Patrick Centre, Birmingham May 7, 2016
David Mead
Jozsef Trefeli and Gábor Varga may come from opposite sides of the world (Australia and Russia), but both are from the Hungarian diaspora, and in JINX 103 explore their common heritage. All their 20-minute journey of discovery takes is two bodies, one idea, and a roll of red and white striped barrier tape.
It opens with the Trefeli and Varga walking round the audience (seated close-up, circling the performance space) whispering a Hungarian nursery rhyme. I understand the second part of the rhyme translates as, “I do not want anything else, just a slice of bread.” Breaking bread with someone in Hungary means the start of friendship.
Soon the tape comes into play. It’s used to create instant sculptures that disintegrate as quickly as they are made. As the tape is tossed to the side, some lands on the audience. Are the pair marking out their territory, blocking the audience out, or is this a way of metaphorically tying us in?
It’s “JINX 103” because when two people accidentally say the same thing in Hungarian, to ward off bad luck they say “103;” and apparently, in English we say “jinx,” although that’s news to me. In JINX 103, the dance, everything is intentional of course. Sometimes the dancers follow each other, sometimes they meet synchronously. It’s all quite personal. The dancers always have eyes for each other, but not for us. Despite being seriously up close, we are mere witnesses.
The dance slowly gets more complex. Everything is rooted in Hungarian folk dance. A bit if body percussion is tossed in. It’s simple and playful. Before long it speeds up and gets increasingly complex as it fills with lightning feet, limbs that seem to twist in and out, and equally fast, leaps and turns. At one point the pair stop and get really up close, amusing in itself given the disparity in height, and there’s a sense of a bit of a power play going on. But it doesn’t last long and the light-hearted, good natured competition soon returns.
All told, JINX 103 is an engaging and more than interesting take on the idea and on folk dance, with the energy and the dancers’ togetherness top notch. The more I think about afterwards, the more I would like to see it again, and see it developed. It is, though, a piece I suspect work betters outdoors in a totally non-formal setting.
Unfortunately, Hungary-based Csaba Molnár’s Eclipse, does not start to approach the same heights. It had little appeal choreographically, and looked like it had been put together quickly, and on a shoestring budget. Apparently it “evokes the improvised masses of the party culture.” On the basis of this, remind me never to go to one of Molnar’s parties. Mind you, he probably wouldn’t want me there anyway!
Remember the audience in Top of the Pops, circa 1970s? It used to be full of people moving in their own space, doing their own thing, all in their own little world, totally oblivious to anyone or anything else. Such is the picture created by Molnár and his cast of 14 women. At least on TOTP, the camera would cut back to the artists. No such luck here.
There are a couple of times when the dancers line up for some not entirely convincing unison, but mostly what looks like improvisation goes on and on for a good 25 minutes before anything much develops. The programme note calls it a “rave” and the whole piece a “comic-like world.” Er, not really – on both counts.
After a short spell when quite literally nothing happens other than the lighting changing frequently, we are treated to a series of songs cut into one another, to which different dancers mime. Whether it was supposed to be amusing (it wasn’t) or meaningful (if it was, it was lost on me) is unclear.
As usual, Eclipse was staged with a group of local dance students and artists. One cannot fault them, who presumably produced just the effect Molnár was after. One or two even managed to stand out and transmit presence, and that took some doing; one in a white shirt and red shoes in particular. Maybe it feels much better if you are in it. Maybe there’s some sort of ‘group flow’ to use a psychology term that gets going. But it is far from great watching. Very disappointing.