Schauspielhaus, Stuttgart
July 12, 2024
With the 1950s modernist building of the Nationaltheater Mannheim presently being refurbished, a process not due to complete until 2028, its companies are presently having to make do with alternative, smaller venues. Recognising that to keep the theatre’s dance ensemble performing at the highest level it needed a big stage and a large audience, Tamas Detrich, artistic director of Stuttgart Ballet and colleagues did a little rejigging, allowing the company a few dates at the city’s Schauspielhaus.
In SCHWERE los (Weightless), artistic director of NTM Tanz Ensemble, Stephan Thoss, sets out to explore the order and limits of dance, and attempts to describe a gravity-less state. I’m not entirely convinced but perhaps it’s best not to overthink it and rather just sit back and enjoy the fine dancing and the many nuances in the work’s sometimes strange imagery. While the work may be a little odd and mysterious, and a bit of a mix of movement styles and ideas, it is rather appealing.
Musically, Thoss also opts for contrasts. After starting with the grating near-industrial sounds of New York composer Annie Gosfield, once dubbed “a one woman Hadron collider” by the BBC, there’s a string quartet by Norwegian composer Kjell Mǿrk Karlsen, and finally the Adagio from Bach’s Concerto in D minor, BWV 974. While the music and dance sit happily together, never does one overly depend on the other.
While gravity being missing is doubtful, the dance certainly seems to finds itself on another planet. The opening includes a strange duo that look like a cross between yeti and orang-utans, but with patchy hair that makes them look like they have a serious alopecia problem. A similar but rather brighter duo appear later, who look like they’ve been diverted from some ancient folk ritual, their bodies seemingly covered with moss and flowers of multiple colours.
Elsewhere, the dancers are definitely humanoid, if not always quite human in nature. A duet by Albert Galindo und Arianna Di Francesco in shiny gold leotards is clear and precise. Their movement has a superb edgy, quasi-reptilian quality.
A weightless moment comes in a trio for Shaun Patrick Ferren, Nicola Prato and Paloma Galiana Moscardó, in skin-coloured body suits, and in which the latter is carried as if walking on air. As she continues to be held, lifted and supported, her movement ripples sinuously through her body.
A solo by a man in black waistcoat and skirt is fiery and powerful, and features much kicking out. Two very watchable duets towards the end are loaded with sharpness and big extensions.
In Kosmos, created in 2014 for Les Ballets Jazz de Montréal, Andonis Foniadakis takes inspiration from everyday urban life. It is certainly frenetic with many and constant entrances and exits.
As the work pounds along to the percussive sounds of Julien Tarride, the dancers produce not so much a flurry of movement as a blizzard. In a work of mostly ever-changing duets and solos, limbs circle to the maximum. In their dark blue tops and trousers, the dancers’ loose hair flies, adding to the dramatic picture.
“Now all I can see is chaos, confusion and panic,” we hear in the soundtrack. Well, yes, but Foniadakis does have it tightly organised, and the dancers’ timing is spot on throughout.
The end comes as a surprise. In a total change of mood and on an otherwise dark stage, Taride, also set designer and videographer, transforms the dancers by projecting flickering lights onto their bodies. Twinkling stars maybe, but given the work’s theme, more likely city lights?