Gymnastics of the mind

Residencies

  • 08.08 > 13.08.2022
  • 28.06 > 04.07.2021

1. How a book can be a sta­ge
In uncer­tain times when live per­for­man­ces still seem a dis­tant pro­spect, dan­cer and cho­re­o­grap­her Femke Gyselinck has tur­ned to ano­ther, two-dimen­si­o­nal medi­um: she has made the book her sta­ge. However, a book func­ti­ons dif­fe­rent­ly from a sta­ge. What trans­la­ti­on is nee­ded if you want to cap­tu­re move­ment in a book? If dan­ce is a form of lan­gu­a­ge, what might its buil­ding blocks look like? Starting from the­se ques­ti­ons, she devel­ops a dan­ce alp­ha­bet with the paper page as the spa­ce to be cho­re­o­grap­hed. The time the rea­der takes to leaf through the book deter­mi­nes the dura­ti­on of the per­for­man­ce.”

In the research pro­ject Gymnastics of the Mind, Femke depicts her dan­cing ana­ly­sis of the alp­ha­bet in a pho­to­grap­hic series. The poses seek a balan­ce bet­ween sty­li­zed move­ment and care­les­s­ness. How can a moving body find phy­si­cal expres­si­ve­ness and give sha­pe to the buil­ding blocks of lan­gu­a­ge? The star­ting point is the alp­ha­bet, a col­lec­ti­on of let­ters, from which Femke shifts the ten­si­on bet­ween the con­cre­te­ness of repre­sen­ta­ti­on to the abstract­ness of pure phy­si­ca­li­ty. Translating move­ment into the two-dimen­si­o­nal page see­ms para­doxi­cal by defi­ni­ti­on. To tac­kle this con­tra­dic­ti­on, an inter­dis­ci­pli­na­ry dia­lo­gue is ente­red into for the pur­po­se of the publi­ca­ti­on. Filmmaker Robbrecht Desmet explo­res the pho­to­grap­hic repre­sen­ta­ti­on of gestu­res and forms in the ten­si­on bet­ween move­ment and pose. This rela­ti­ons­hip is con­cre­ti­zed in the pre­sen­ta­ti­on as a sequen­ce: the ima­ge free­zes, the vari­a­ti­on cre­a­tes rhythm.

2. How a book can be trans­for­med by the sta­ge
Following the publi­ca­ti­on of the dan­ce alp­ha­bet, Femke Gyselinck intends to use this alp­ha­bet, a col­lec­ti­on of buil­ding blocks, as the star­ting point for her next sta­ge cre­a­ti­on with dan­cers Sue Yeon Youn and Luka Švajda.
How do you unfold move­ment research that has ended up in book form back into the form of a live per­for­man­ce? The eclec­tic com­po­ser and musi­cian Liesa Van der Aa has been invi­ted to give this spa­ti­al trans­la­ti­on a musi­cal voi­ce.

The visu­al lan­gu­a­ge of the dan­ce alp­ha­bet devel­ops into a cho­re­o­grap­hy that moves bet­ween abstrac­ti­on and repre­sen­ta­ti­on, iden­ti­ty and other­ness. Three dan­cers per­form the cho­re­o­grap­hy with three dif­fe­rent accents, like a dia­lect’ of the same for­mal lan­gu­a­ge. Liesa van der Aa trans­la­tes this cho­re­o­grap­hy into a grap­hic sco­re: eve­ry vari­a­ti­on and inten­si­ty in the dan­ce beco­mes audi­ble in her music and use of voi­ce. The move­ment lan­gu­a­ge evol­ves from for­mal abstrac­ti­on to ecs­ta­sy and reso­na­tes with the sco­re, which moves along the boun­da­ries of clas­si­cal strings and con­tem­po­ra­ry pop music.

The per­for­man­ce chal­len­ges the idea of com­po­si­ti­o­nal cho­re­o­grap­hy and mutu­al artis­tic depen­den­ce in order to expe­rien­ce each other’s lan­gu­a­ge first­hand. This inten­se exchan­ge bet­ween cho­re­o­grap­hy and musi­cal com­po­si­ti­on cul­mi­na­tes in a feed­back loop with unpre­dic­ta­ble results.