dance & aesthetics, mostly
“You had leaned over the still pool of some Greek woodland and seen in the water’s silent silver the marvel of your own face. And it had all been what art should be–unconscious, ideal, and remote.”
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, quoted in the programme notes for Cie. Daniel Abreu’s Equilibrio
The stage is full of trees. They stand tall, ancient and immobile, or maybe swaying a little. But are they trees, or are they people? Or perhaps microphone stands? A woman slowly prowls on all fours, hunting. A woman rushes in, looks around, hunting. And what is that sublime music?
This is George Balanchine’s Serenade (1935). Or maybe it is Cie. Daniel Abreu’s Equilibrio (2010). This is the beginning, or the end. A journey through nature, or a becoming nature, an already-being nature. A cerebral animal. A migratory bird. Something human, or perhaps not.
Serenade states its case plainly, but there is something about Equilibrio that seems to fall into muteness, like the mute stare of a dog, a silence that conceals the world. A world that is always just a little bit further on, through the trees, a rustling of leaves, a perfect balance, a perfect equilibrium. Read more of this post