Simon Le Borgne & Ulysse Zangs: Ad Libitum

Le Skyroom at L’Alliance New York
October 8, 2026

The space is intimate. The 8th floor Le Skyroom of L’Alliance New York, a not-for-profit organisation that programmes a diverse range of arts that celebrate Francophone culture and creativity, has seating for just sixty or so, most on a circle of chairs, a few on cushions in front.

Former Paris Opera Ballet and Tanztheater Wuppertal dancer Simon Le Borgne, and Ulysse Zangs, a French artist working at the intersection of sound, movement and nature, are on opposite sides of the room. Le Borgne is prone, Zangs standing.

There’s a distinct sense of anticipation even before Zangs starts to breathe slowly, deeply into a microphone, the sound filling the space. Le Borgne begins to shift. It’s slow, precise, controlled. Little movements at first before he edges into the middle of the room, drawn inexorably it seems by Zangs, who also coaxes gentle sounds from his electric guitar. A recurring motif starts to appear. A hand over the mouth or eyes.

Le Borgne has explained that Ad Libitum was born from his desire, his need to step aside from his ballet career, both from the art form itself and from the Paris Opera as an institution, a place he had been immersed in from childhood. A Latin expression, literally meaning ‘in accordance with one’s wishes or until completely satisfied’, Ad Libitum is about the desire to create, to step outside oneself, to expand. And that’s precisely what it delivers.

That both are classical trained dancers is occasionally obvious in the choreography. As the couple reverse roles, Zangs, who also trained at the Paris Opera Ballet School and then Palucca in Dresden before joining the Dresden Frankfurt Dance, where he danced until 2019, almost immediately presents classical poses before launching into a more expansive sequence that sees him use the whole space, constantly changing direction.

It’s as if he has suddenly been freed from some sort of shell or outer skin that was previously restricting everything, holding everything hidden. Restricting him. It’s beautifully smoothly performed although when there’s a moment of silence, the sound of his breath tells us there’s actually a lot of effort involved. It’s a fascinating mix. It’s free, but the trained dancer, the trained body is still there for all to see.

And those of us sitting opposite the huge window are lucky enough the get an alternate aspect as the performers are reflected in the glass, the angle of the panes providing an overhead view.

Swapping roles again, when Zangs uses his brush on his drum set, it’s as if you hear the movement, see the music. Balanchine might be pleased! Zangs composes live, weaving a soundscape in constant interaction with his friend. Sweeps are met with sweeps, speed with speed, softness with softness, breaths with breaths, sudden bangs or beats with equally loud, powerful movement.

There’s clearly an element of improvisation in the piece in Le Borgne’s choreography too, which he adapts for the different venues. When he sits on the floor next to an audience member it feels like he’s taking refuge. He puts a hand on another’s knee. Hold his hand out to others. Even sits on someone’s knee. Is his looking for support?

The whole thing feels like a sort of baring of the soul, a sort of settling of a debt with the academic dance learning that shaped them. It’s a stripping away, as much as is possible, a deconstruction, a search for freedom.

Slowly, things get more and more dynamic. The dialogue between the pair, there throughout, ramps up even more. Le Borgne appears totally caught up in the music. It and he are as one.

The effort and intensity throughout from both really was something special. At times, you could see Le Borgne trembling. Perhaps not only the effort of the movement, but that of breaking free.

The end is loud. Very loud. Drums thrash. Zangs is a tremendous percussionist. Le Borgne’s arms whirl. As he runs around the space it’s almost ecstatic. One senses it has not been easy, but free at last.

And then silence. They look at each other. They smile. They embrace. A long embrace.

And then, after the applause and they had left the space, something odd. Looking at the now empty scene, it felt like, while they had left physically, their spirit was still there. There was still a trace.

Supported by Dance Reflections by Van Cleef & Arpels, Ad Libitum was presented as part of L’Alliance New York’s Crossing the Line Festival, which the previous weekend included a site-specific adaptation of choreographer Léo Lérus’ Gounouj in Situ in an outdoor performance on Governor’s Island.

Inspired in part by the Guadeloupean Gwoka music tradition, Gounouj in Situ brought together dancers Asha Thomas and Robert Cornejo in a dance about communication across generations. In the short twenty-minute piece, their physical dialoguge became a conversation in movement between them, and with the environment around them. More than anything, it delivered a message of hope for a positive future.

For more on Crossing the Line, click here.