Page 1



Edition 1; Issue 1

Monday, August 10. 2009


There are no easy ways to chart a career in dance and choreography. It is better to acknowledge this phenomenon not as a limitation but as a source of radical possibility. As easy as it is for someone to ask a dancer “What kind of dance she or he does”, the response of what kind of dance this might be proves inversely difficult to provide. The frustrating predicament leads to facile answers that may or may not be adequate, true or of any service to either party. If we speak directly about what it is that we have done on a given day, “moving from my sinovial fluids” or “flying low”, we can snub out the conversation faster than a cigarette after a good rehearsal. However, we can’t give up on each other so easily. Quite often too, reciprocity stumbles in performance. What is sincerely proposed or deeply experienced by a performer can so often go over the heads or under the heels of a public, who, in attending the performance can believe that “attendance” constitutes its role at performances. This assumption falls short, at times, of the powerful realization in having chosen a performance at all. This performance might address the society it comes from or suggest an alternate to what is known and normalized. In response, what any single person might learn, reject, promote or criticize is vital to this exchange. The point is, there are many more options for engagement than we have been led, and continue to lead ourselves to believe. At another end of miscommunication, a choreographer believes that this movement or that concept should be perceptible or meaningful to the set of people who are present. Often, this does not come to pass. Globally, newspapers are printing fewer pages on dance for fewer readers. The point is not getting across, and discourse is withering. Don’t we want to fly into the hearts and heads of others, in mutual communication, rather than, in the most disappointing sense, be looked over? We are not writing to point out the exact causes for either side of this communication failure, but rather, how the breakdown provides fuel for braver questions about our intentions, freedoms and responsibilities in choreographic exchange. The Village Voice newspaper in New York City has a “Missed Connections” classified column. Someone

Image submitted by Ralo Mayer

can post an anonymous message to another person that may have wandered past in the subway, once upon a time. The writer attempts to establish grounds for reconnection by identifying any number of details of the moment they shared i.e. the “shoes you wore”, “I sold you the Novemeber Issue of Vogue Magazine” etc. These details are always elliptical and fractured, but they are also an attempt at communicating a larger world, a broader experience that is beyond language. The success of the “Missed Connection” post lies precisely in how these details manage to mobilize the other, who is both audience and potential correspondent. Choreography has this hope for communication as well. Both the choreographer and the “Missed Connection” author believe in recognition, which is different from fame, of course. After these chances have passed,

the risk of having said something, some embarrassing, crass or inspiring gesticulation would have settled than having said and done nothing at all. “We met in Anthropology class at Hunter College back in 1999. You worked at the Elephant,” (, August 1, 2009. Posted by Anthony Gonzalez, age 34). After a missed connection comes the waiting period. One never knows how willing the other is to listen at the moment of mutual attendance. And years later, in ever widening circles of silence? This is another condition entirely. While in creative exile a choreographer can still produce a gesture, much like a “Missed Connection” that suggests compatibility and creative potential. For example, The Village Voice also temporarily eliminated its dance section. It then became useful to consider looking elsewhere, but still within The Village Voice, for reliable sources of choreographic information. The possibility that attention can hold so far afield is the determination of contemporary choreography. Those who have gone missing can also choose to reenter and re-propose dialogue. When

the choreography of a missed connection reappears, extemporaneous and expectant, on the horizon, it is nonetheless given to producing a reference point to time, place, self and other, on whatever terms it is able to muster. These are among the fundamental questions for choreography. Martha Graham said it takes ten years to make a dancer. Mr. Gonzalez is ready for his close up. If and when we outdistance Ms. Graham or each other, we are not necessarily out of range. Now and then may not matter, like a newspaper that is five issues long - it is a journal of the current moment and a future artifact of outdated connections.

It has been useful for choreography to wade into an undertow of stronger forces at work. The Inpex is brimming with these missed connections, fragments of communication, choreographies that could have been and might still be, projections, masquerades, demonstrations and hopes that insist there

are new futures for the field. These are connections not only for choreographers to pick up, but for anyone that might understand an anonymous sentence as self-realization, a newspaper as dance, choreography as news from abraod, or business model, or horoscope. The Inpex is a self-organized publication by artists working in the field of dance, who, while identifying ourselves as part of a professional field, resist the stultifying associations of upward mobility, fiscal solvency, asset management, competency and productivity that are assigned to climbers on “the professional ladder”. In resisting being professionalized, we do not intend to undermine the facility with which dancers and choreographers are able to accept and, in the best cases, work erasure. We believe this acceptance can lead to source material, language and a new positioning that are our ways through and, if need be, out of our current professional walkabout. We insist on vocation. [INSERT HERE ], PAGE 2

Table of Contents p.2 EDITOR’S WHITEBOARD: Egle Obcarskaite: When Description Meets Position – Articulation in choreography Jessyka Watson-Gailbraith: Things Don’t Die, They Adapt p.3 NEWS: Politics and Society; Louise Hojer on Matsune and Subal installation at Kunsthalle Wien Ethics: Emma Kim Hagdahl on Lab/p Dance

p.4-5 CENTERFOLD: Emma Kim Hagdahl: Look Who’s Talking, dance makers on themselves p.6 INTERVIEW: Louise Hojer meets Hybris p.7 REVIEW: Will Rawls on The Swedish Dance History COLUMN: Marten Spangberg: Long Live The Premiere

CONVERSATION: Jessyka Watson-Gailbraith at the ImPulsTanz office p.8 MISCELLANEOUS: Kroot Juurak: Script for Small Talk OVERHEARD IN VIENNA… BULLETIN PREVIEW: Marten Spangberg on DARK CALENDAR: Upcoming events

A crash course in journalism Photo: Egle Obcarskaite


Monday, August 10. 2009

When Description Meets Position EGLE OBCARSKAITE

The question, where does one begin to make dance, isn’t necessarily trivial. Is it the moment one starts to move? The moment one sees a dance? Or the moment one decides to become a choreographer? Any of those scenarios contain the moment of first position, and the need of a certain declaration (conscious or subconscious): I am the choreographer, and this is the dance I make. This need to position oneself in the current context of the dance field is problematic. The problem is caused by the difficulty of using language to express what essentially can be expressed through movement. Just look at the way one usually puts it: how do I describe what I do, and what do I actually do?

And other unwieldy questions remain in the background: how do we position ourselves, and what language do we use? And, more importantly, how does this language change us and what we do? This structure of relations and questions is heterogeneous in nature. It connects and disconnects. Description and position overlap. The relation of these two suggests, that the very moment of conflation generates the immediate divergence. The description of dance through language could be directed to state the position of what dance is, but at the next moment it abandons any kind of meaning, staying just a language game created to satisfy systems. Systems empower themselves through empty descriptions.



If New York City was a melting pot in the 60’s and 70’s, what kind of melting pot are we experiencing today? The locality of the Internet is global but it’s also in my living room. This means that I can now access “New York City”, without being there. I know more thanks to Facebook about what performances are on abroad than in my hometown of Stockholm. I know about a performance in an abandoned factory in Zagreb but no idea what’s going on in Dansenshus, the largest stage in Stockholm for Contemporary Dance. My practise is changing due to technology and advances in communication; things don’t die, they adapt. I am not moved by in the importance of style as meaning, the immediate transfer of the kinaesthetics of dance, imagery as an essence of the meaning of dance and so on. It is more radical that I can create a completely new framework for choreographies. I can publish work for free via the Internet in a very short space of time to an enormous audience. I can bypass old economic systems completely. This mode of working does not at all take away the need to still work and discuss choreographies locally. Because of this technological shift, we are in unchartered territory. Contemporary production of dance, for


me, relies a lot more on language than movement. The words I use to construct my dances are changing all the time. This year I have written 23 Facebook descriptions for dance events, I have updated websites, made my own website, written countless YouTube, and vimeo descriptions, Skype’d forever about how show’s have gone on distant places and how processes are going in new projects. It’s not so theoretical, but it’s how I engage in the field. This language is mostly specific to the Internet and to which interface I am using. There is no business model for this type of production, it’s almost impossible for it to be presented through old institutions or even validated as work. The more things I learn that enable me to take more control over how I can build an online identity mean that it’s getting easier to come up with ridiculous schemes for performances and choreographies. I watch So You Think You Can Dance and I am so excited. I am so happy that someone else is taking over the traditional mode of dance performance and that they are doing it with such gusto. They can have it, there are other things I am more interested in. The way I am working enriches the experience of when I see people


The Inpex is a free, daily newspaper. Initiated by International Performance Exchange, INPEX, with its head quarter in Stockholm, NGO supported by the Swedish Arts Grants Committee. Vienna, August 10-14, 2009. For more information: PEOPLE Editorial team: Louise Höjer, Emma Kim Hagdahl, Egle Obcarskaite, Will Rawls and Jessyka Watson Gailbraith Editorial support: Kim Hiorthoy, Anders Jacobson, Tor Lindstrand, Mårten Spångberg and Johan Thelander Design: Kim Hiorthoy Layout: Jessyka Watson Gailbraith Print: Goldmann Druck, Vienna Circulation: 700 Thanks to all contributors. DISTRIBUTION If you want to order copies, please contact: INPEX, Konstnärsnämnden, Stockholm +46 (0)735 465638 An online pdf version will be avaliable at:

It is hardly possible for a mind, constituted through concepts, to overstep the structures of language. The awareness of langauge, and what contradictions it creates, could be the way to deal with it, and possibly to make use of it in the field of dance. The romantic, or modern, image of language as signfying reality as it is, is over. At this point language rather implies the emergence of simulacrum, the reality which is more real than the real. Definitions of choreographies in these terms don’t signify anything else but are themselves merely articulations of the necessity to define. Thus the urgent need for positioning oneself arises. The role of a choreographer loses it’s a priori given identity, and is put thrown into a process of constant re-invention. dancing live or dance myself. It’s a more acute opportunity to clarify my position in relation to the notion of choreography and it’s relation to developments in society, the body and movement. It’s giving the body a more specific and critical place to be as well as changing my relationship to the understandings of bodies that

I watch So You Think You Can Dance and I am so excited. already exist. It used to be necessary to be local, because we couldn’t move around so much. Places became important because something developed there. If you managed to get there you could be a part of it, or things slowly trickled down and were assimilated into new environments. Tourism has changed for now that is for certain, it’s cheap as chips to fly to Vienna for a festival or go on vacation in Sardinia. But they say that oil will be scarce in 20 years. When we can’t travel to confirm what we share online, what then?


Dance Terminology First steps towards a new situation We come to Vienna to oil the juices of our creation With the promise of fleshy parties And the daily dose of healthy pilates Questioning words that we don’t understand Listening to dude’s whose practise sounds quite bland But it’s the promise of radical new spaces That is not exclusive to the familiar faces It’s there for the one’s in the back row of repertory If you’re not so good at that, don’t be a victim of the familiar story Work out quick smart what interests you in dance Forget the rest and take a stance We decide what the topography is Whether it’s grey, stripey or bubble gum fizz Find a channel to say it loud And The Inpex promises to bring you a crowd

Glossary for The Inpex EMMA KIM HAGDAHL

caesura any interruption or break crusade an organized campaign concerning a political, social, or religious issue, typically motivated by a fervent desire for change neoliberalism relating to or denoting a modified form of liberalism tending to favor free-market capitalism. anomaly something that deviates from what is standard, normal, or expected


The Inpex is a question targeted at heights and hierarchies and a statement of depth and breadth. Choreographers have more to ask of themselves than to fulfill the general biography of a professional-whoachieves. It is vital that we, within and without this field, look at what we are doing and articulate this, lending it a name or a practice or a relationship with our surroundings. It has been useful for choreography to wade into an undertow of stronger forces at work. Consumer marketing structures that propagate generations of products and services define the world at large, precarious and bold as it is, into which our choreography is trying to emerge, precariously or boldly as it may. This presents the challenge of reaching past the known (the marketplace, the ageing critical dialogues, the headlines) to bring new information into the world, to choreography to life. What would Jesus do? Did anyone know what he was talking about at first? We can’t know what exactly his intentions were, however his determination was undeniable, his vocation self-determined, his examples and attempts many, his discourse tangible and pervasive, his sacrifices ultimate. The word made flesh. It still can.

petting engage in sexually stimulating caressing and touching ubiquitous present, appearing, or found everywhere proficient competent or skilled in doing or using something inversely opposite or contrary in position, direction, order, or effect wieldy hold and use (a weapon or tool) have and be able to use (power or influence) conflation two or more sharing some characteristics of one another, become confused until only a single identity — the differences appear to become lost divergence develop in a different direction snub rebuff, ignore, or spurn disdainfully

Monday, August 10. 2009





When Posers Do Politics NO TOUCHING Michikazu Matsune and David Subal’s installation at Kunsthalle Wien

The Ethics of Lab/p Dancing


On Friday night a lap dance performance took place in the ImPulsTanz Festival Lounge. This year the Lounge is situated in the Novomatic Forum a space that looks like a fancy hotel bar. It feels so Stockholm 2002 and it smells of longings for money and success. Upstairs there is a VIP bar where the performances took place. It was in fact a work in progress, a showing of the Lab/p Dance ProSeries research project initiated by Katherina Zakravsky and Anne Juren. ‘No touching’, although it is not being told as a rule in relation to the performance, it is explicit. We have seen it on film and in reality. It is the same case here that is, the lap dance is real. Through placing the performance in a bar and not in a theatre, the diversity of views is wider, more unpredictable and there are no conventions to subscribe to. This makes the situation even more complex in terms of what the performance produces. The announcement of the performance was on posters on the wall of the foyer. We could choose from lap dances such as bag lady, meet J-LO, deep-sea monster etc. Once a choice had been made we were asked to make arrangements with “Miss Juren and Miss Zakravsky.” However “Miss Juren” was the one in charge of the situation whilst “miss Zakravsky” acted nonchalant and distracted without any sign of being responsible for anything. When I arrived at the second floor where the VIP bar is situated and where the performances were to take place, there was quite a crowd. After only a few minutes of waiting for ‘my’ lap dance, a situation arose just

One hour standing for what? is my first question before I have even seen Michikazu Matsune and David Subal’s One hour standing for. The four-day installation is part of the ImPulsTanz festival and on view at the Kunsthalle Wien. It consists of 24 plinths, covered in white cloth each with a TV screen placed on top. They are installed in a square formation bringing to mind a generic public space in more or less any city in the world. The screens feature Matsune & Subal’s performances. They stand still for one hour as if posing for a photograph in front of famous tourist attractions in 24 cities. It is a weird twist of the living statue phenomenon, loved by tourists around the world. Mimes dressed as the Statue of Liberty, Apollo, and Dorothy’s Tin Man have become ubiquitous to the tourist quarter of every major city. In their filmed performances Matsune & Subal wear the garb of the tourists themselves and perform this fairly comic figure into a living sculpture. The result is quite funny. Many people that would normally have stopped, applauded and given money to the bronze painted historical figure in living form just walk past Matsune & Subal. They try not to notice. Walk quickly past. There are of course others who interact, who see it as an opportunity to join the show, who play up to the camera. Would these passers-by join the performance if the camera weren’t there? Of course it is different to witness the still dance of Matsune & Subal on the TV screens than if one had encountered them on the street. In this mediation each performance is presented on the same terms and under the same conditions. Every screen shows a different image but in this standardized presentation they become totally homogenous. Matsune & Subal might as well be cardboard cutouts placed in front of each famous monument. But then actually, no. Being that they are films and not photos you see the small shakes of the legs, the twitching of the muscles around the mouth, the physical effort of trying to stay still. It somehow becomes a test of endurance. And with this manages to capture a moment far better than any photo could. It extends and expands the moment. And at the same time every moment runs into the next. Are Matsune & Sabul’s re-enactments a celebration or critique of tourist momento/memento photography? It begs questions surrounding our ever-growing traveling culture. More and more people from every corner of the world, can hop on a plane, go to another corner of the world quickly and affordably. The event is captured in a mechanical or digital box and brought back home. Consider that the same image exists in a million homes, in a million different locations around the globe, the only difference being the individuals posing - peace signs and smiles at the ready. The tourist industry is a search for familiarity rather than the experience of difference. Every tourist, no matter where they are from, behaves

the same. They read the same guide books, go to see the same sights, eat at the same restaurants, get drunk at the same bars and misbehave in the same clubs. We live in a world where everything is becoming increasingly familiar. That doesn’t mean that everything and everyplace is the same everywhere but we treat them as if they were. We don’t want to feel out of place. We don’t want to be the one who has to ask for directions. We want to feel comfortable. We want to feel at home away from home. Through our innocent wish to understand the other we also limit them. We confine them by making them part of our world. The tourist photo captures the meeting and steals the moment, frames the event. The camera functions as a protection shield from actually meeting what is different. We hold the experience at a distance physically through putting the camera in between us and the moment. We distance the event conceptually though framing it as exceptional. The photo claims it as out of the ordinary. Or at least this is how it used to function. With the abundance of digital cameras and camera phones they are able to capture every single moment making each moment equally significant and

make a protest against the speed through which we travel through the world without stopping to actually experience it


next to me. One of the performers –lap dancers, was talking to a group of audience members – customers, who wanted a dance from her. She repeatedly told them that they needed to sign up. It was obvious that they didn’t listen to her. They were closing in on her. As they started touching her I felt I had to take on a responsibility without being asked. How can they put their performers in a position where they expect the audience to look out for them? And what would happen if I were passive?

Downstairs the dance floor is boiling with adrenalin and alcohol. It is a performance that has to be performed together. They need to have a stronger protocol in order for that to happen. It’s not a question of where it starts or where it ends, it is a continuous state that is activated by us being there: performing the audience performing the patrons performing the audience performing the patrons performing ourselves performing We are passing through different attentions, witnessing lap dances from a distance or in a private space, exchanging looks with people around us and observing people downstairs, still dancing. What I found interesting in this situation is how we can choose to go along what we imagine to be the intention of the lap dance and construct our feelings and emotions in order to try to get a fuller experience and a deeper understanding of what the lap dance performance is producing.

insignificant. We enter a constant stream of ordinariness. In their attempt to stand still Matsune & Subal bravely inhabit a moment; make a protest against the speed through which we travel through the world without stopping to actually experience it. However, the experience of Matsune & Subal’s installation is one of walking past and standing in front of screens, listening to a soundtrack of generic urbanity. Unfortunately, this is an experience I am all too familiar with. And although technically proficient, the experience itself is not more interesting than having to sit through a friends endless holiday snaps. In an attempt to properly experience the installation, I stood still for several minutes trying to take it all in. However the gallery guard noticed my suspicious behavior and kept looking in, checking up on me as if to say: What are you standing around for?

Un-named dancer, to be credited later, performing a lap dance in the VIP bar Photo: Jessyka Watson-Galbriath


A re-call for the knife JESSYKA WATSON-GALBRAITH

The teacher is walking around adjusting people’s lower backs whilst they are in downward dog. If I take the liberty to be poetic, looking down on aspiring dreams and facilitating a potential journey towards greatness. Auditions are great. They are a fantasyland, a place where dreams of cinematic like discoveries still live in the contemporary dance world. Hallelujah. Money doesn’t matter in auditions. Not until you are cut anyway. If there is an audition it’s like a promise of a safe place. Auditions are about giving. They are also a place where we can, without feeling corny, really say things such as I believe in myself. If we believe this at the beginning of the audition, we should believe it at the end. In A Chorus Line there was a line up. The director Zach, (Michael Douglas) wanted to shake the dancers up. He wanted to get personal. I appreciate the intention, but it’s time to get real and cut to the chase. There is very little chance that someone is going to be calm enough to act intelligently. For those giving auditions. State what you want, be brutal, if they don’t have what you want, get rid of them. Baiting dancers by pretending to be interested in who they are as people is just insane. If you want to get to know them, take them out to dinner. Auditions are a necessary evil only when the intention of those holding the audition is so fuzzy. It’s not the dancers that need more confidence, it’s the choreographers who should step up and be clear. I visit the Ismael Ivo auditions in Vienna. He is looking for old school. Explosive dance. Jessica and Isa have made it to the third round. When I try and say that auditions are crazy, Isa responds with it’s not crazy, it’s interesting to feel nervous but it’s a good sensation. It is difficult, but I feel stronger if I do the audition. I am with you Isa. Apart from the fact that they are completely inhumane aren’t auditions wonderful.


Monday, August 10. 2009

LOOK WHO’S Dance makers on themselves Words by choreographers mapped by The Inpex EMMA KIM HAGDAHL

Tino Sehgal Constructed Situation Not a performance Anne Juren Endurance Slight difference Continuous Keith Hennessy Experiments with dancing Queer shamanic potentials San francisco hybrid Great legs

Xavier Le Roy Experimental Transformation Different

Doris Stelzer View Necessary Questioning

Louise Höjer Totally unerotic Bellydance Beutiful boys

Linda Adami High ceiling Freedom Well paid

Krööt Juurak Creative Flexible Exploitation-willing Autodomesticable

Christine De Smedt Motivation of not knowing I am not I Use the power from your sex

Will Rawls Bow and arrow The unicorn was there Swimming and cooking

Gabriel Soland Schenner Carneiro Da Cunha History Politics Collaboration

Doris Stelzer View Necessary Questioning

Philipp Gehmacher Gesture Absence Meaning

Jan Fabre Beauty Poetry Loyalty

Jessyka Watson-Galbraith Celine Mariah Barbra

Loïc Touzé Responsibility Poetry Breathing

Trajal Harell Lion Tinman Scarecrow

Miguel Gutierrez Fuck Me Harder

DD Dorvillier Fun Loving Fun Kasper Vandenberghe Honesty Different Fragile David Dorfman Radical Humanistic Sweet Non irony

Olive Bieringa & Otto Ramstadt A space in between; changing tone Collaboration Kinestetic empathy

Tim Etchells People Time Event

Jennifer Monson Wild systems Phenomena Extending

Jefta Van Dinther Doing Self-sufficiency Substance matter

Jo Pollitt Response Liveness Proximity Engagement Vulnerablibity Humaness Energy Imagination Accessing history Cultivating availablity to the unknown Liveness (again)

David Zambrano Eat Digest Shit out

Simone Truong Identity in motion Universal / Relative Reduction / Action

Monday, August 10. 2009

TALKING... Moriah Evans Discussions in action that create fluid spaces for perceptual inquiry If training is creating, if practice is performance, and performance is discourse, where are we and in what kind of space? Subjectivity, sexuality, vulnerability

Jefta Van Dinther Doing Self-sufficiency Substance matter Eszter Salamon No brand thanks No brand dance Beauty Desire

M책rten Sp책ngberg Weak Inautonomous Fairly sexy

Jennifer Monson Wild systems Phenomena Extending

Siegmar Zacharias Sensual Powerful Persuasive

Egle Obcarskaite Disco Broken bones Ultimate inspiration

Steve Heather Totally Fucken Rocken!

Antonija Livingstone inquiry of solitude wonder gratitude courtship display loveliness homeopathic terrorism temporary utopian community rendering openendedness

Emma Kim Hagdahl Insisting on insisting No god Love all over

Tor Lindstrand All Over Engaging Disco

Siegmar Zacharias Sensual Powerful Persuasive

Chase Granoff Citational work Choreography as a platform for production Performance as distribution

Diggapony Against hierachical structures Active discussion with society Change reality

Jennifer Monson Wild systems Phenomena Extending




Monday, August 10. 2009



With admirable urgency the Swedish duo Anders Jacobson and Johan Thelander (Hybris) are taking on the mean (and, honestly, seemingly boring) feat of choreographing change into administrational bodies. They are vigorously trying to shake up institutions and organizations to make them relevant to the goals of the artistic community. Both successful dancers and choreographers, they have, at least for the moment, traded their physical virtuosity for boardroom haggling. Louise meets them over skype in between Anders’ coffee rendezvous with his mother and Johan’s seemingly countless rehearsals and performances (yes he still takes to the stage every now and again….). It is not immediately evident exactly what Hybris is. They explain it as an art production company working with choreographic production, organization, culturalpolitical discussions and strategy development. The fact that this sounds more like a business consultancy than choreography is of course also the point. The means that enable artistic production, to a large extent, also forms and shapes the production itself. Lets not pretend differently. Rather than desperately trying to escape this truth the boys take the administrator by the hand. Not many of us would go there, but then again lets not deny the sex appeal of the photocopier, boardroom and filing cabinet. Louise: Are you there? I still need 10 mins. Hybris: Sure, Anders is about to have a coffee with his mother, so maybe in some 20 mins, ok? Louise: Perfect. Hybris: We’re ready Louise: Good. Good. Let’s go. In your explanation of Hybris you speak of using choreography as an analytic tool? Could you explain that further? Hybris: We’ve been discussing different ways of expanding the notion of choreography, in order to search for new ways of considering movement in relation to organization. Is what we do choreography? Or are we using choreography as metaphor? At the moment, the “analytic tool” feels like the most productive way of thinking choreography for us. Louise: A way of looking at things, at the world as a form of movement? Hybris: In its most condensed form we could say that choreography is the organizing of activity in other words the production of movement. In this sense choreography becomes a way of looking at things rather than a way to produce something that we recognize as dance. Louise: To see organizations, businesses as moving structures? Hybris: In a way, yes, moving structures in the sense of having the capacity of change or elasticity, in opposition to rigidity. But also ways to move within and pushing structures and frames. Like, we need this kind of space in order to move further or something. What ways of producing produces movement that is proactive and enables many different possible directions and strategies? When we think of how we use different economies, to discuss what choices would produce what kind of potential for movement: political, economical, artistic etc. Louise: But in this sense the consulting or other “services” you offer organizations (primarily governmental, right?) is also producing something.... If it isn’t making organization into a dance, then what would you see your interaction as producing? Hybris: Is your question about how we would label what it is that we produce? Louise: Yes. Hybris: Consulting is often about being critical to the organization but

also to propose how to make things happen. We believe that we - the doers - need to be present within administration or bureaucracy in order to produce engagement for where we want to go. Louise: Is there a danger that you become a tool of the organization in question? Or is this unproblematic for you? Perhaps even a goal? Hybris: In that sense, we are definitely a tool, and by being that tool we can create change in the way that we would like. Offering yourself as a tool that knows what it wants is different from being used as a tool for someone else. Louise: So this new form of engagement with funding bodies becomes your practice. Is the goal somehow that the organizations in question will provide a better service for people that want to produce “conventional dance” i.e. performances? Or would you like your practice to encourage others to become more directly involved in political institutions? Hybris: We don’t only meet funding bodies, it could be local dance administrators, venues or smaller organizations, but yes, we think it would be a good thing if more doers were more

the suit is a state of mind... involved in the decision-making and policy production. This doesn’t mean that everyone should change their practice into becoming mainly that, but rather to recognize the need to engage in many different ways and not see political activity as something separate from performance making. Our practice as a whole has no lower ambition than to rethink how we can function within our present forms of democracy. Louise: How do you feel about the idea of art as autonomous? Hybris: We don’t believe in autonomy as such, but we do believe in small strong entities that support each other. A danger to think of art as autonomous is that it becomes more isolated or marginalized, and to a certain extent looses influence. Though, to think of art as autonomous has been a necessary tool to define possible functions of art in society. Fooling yourself that you are autonomous and independent is quite silly. On the other hand the idea of autonomy produces a healthy engagement

Potato Country by Gunilla Heilborn that Johan performed in during the interview. The piece plays at HAU in Berlin 5-6 October. Photo: Mårten Nilsson

in relation to challenging the existing hierarchies. That’s probably how we feel about it at the moment. Louise: Would this eventually lead to a society where art as a category would disappear and instead lead to a world where art and life would be one and the same? Hybris: Yes, well the ideas of anarchists like Morris - “everyone is an artist” - are very inspiring. It means challenging concepts of quality who has access to art making? What is considered as professional? Etc which we constantly need to engage in. At the same time it’s really cool that we do have art as a category, where people are encouraged to engage in extremely specific practices, and allowed to build some kind of expertise. Louise: Hmm. This is interesting because I think in our generation (used loosely) the idea of the expert is disappearing. Is the expert still relevant to society? Somehow I feel your practice is suggesting no. Hybris: Yes, the question of expertise as notion can be discussed from so many perspectives. The idea of the expert is definitely being re-negotiated. Maybe we could shift the attention to the translation between different knowledges? If we think of an expert in a traditional or educational way, where knowledge is supposed to be transmitted from one person to another without being altered, expertise produces inequality and in the next step inaccessibility. Louise: So you’re interested in an exchange of knowledge? Hybris We believe that different knowledges can be appreciated because of what happens in the interaction between them. We don’t need to be experts in making a book in order to make a book, but we do have other knowledge that could change the way a book functions. Louise: Maybe we leave the notion of expertise there because I feel that it could really become a discussion in its own right. And if we instead flip the coin for a moment, what do you think

We don’t believe in autonomy as such, but we do believe in small strong entities that support each other. organizational or business models can give choreography or dance? Hybris Choreography, business etc simply provide us with paradigms to think along. They’re not that different in nature. Business can basically mean to be smart with the resources you have, building economy that is not completely depending on one source, knowing (and making) the game rules in order to achieve what we want. It can really be super simple things like if funders know that you can handle a budget and clearly show how money was used and why,

you build some kind of trust. Louise: Has the language you use changed through your collaboration with bureaucratic organizations and businesses? Have you adopted new terminology or have you seen a change in how they express themselves? Hybris: Probably the terminology changes in relation to bureaucracy, business etc, in the same way as it

In that sense, we are definitely a tool, and by being that tool we can create change in the way that we would like. changes when we read philosophy or stumble upon a concept that is new to us and makes us think in new ways. Louise: I think a lot of people working in artistic production feel that there is a disjunction between the language funding and governmental bodies want us to use and how we would like to express what it is we do.... We are forced to define our practice with clear objectives, assess it in terms of result, figures and numbers... Hybris: Of course integrity is essential in terms of refusing to tell people what they want to hear, funders or others, using the current political buzzwords etc, if you don’t submit to it. An application form is quite an excellent place for this kind of discussion, but many artists are keener on making their next production than taking the risk of being “application activists”... If we insist on ticking the box that is not in line with our ideology, things will not change. Louise: And we don’t really have the space there to talk about our practice in terms of the human experience. Hybris: For sure can’t human experience be articulated as both an objective and result? When it comes to the numbers, we need to find ways to challenge and sometimes refuse to submit to the intention of these numbers. We also need to recognize and use the possibilities that do exist outside of the given forms to articulate why we do what we do, in order to create opinion. Louise: I would suggest that your practice and also this newspaper are symptoms of or rather indications of a certain urgent need to redefine the field - to assess and articulate our relevance as artistic producers. Do you agree and if so, why now? Hybris: Definitely. Perhaps we are currently in a position where structures and organizations have been built, concepts formed, certain ways of producing have been established and so on, to a point where we want to rethink how we can use and develop them. Many of these things have been built in times when society looked different, and many estab-

lished strategies are not applicable today. You need only to look at what impact new technology, internet, the ideas of sharing, creative commons etc has on the way we work, produce and engage differently than we did only ten years ago. In that sense it is a generation shift that is creating super interesting friction at the moment. Louise: And here are some quick short-fire ones. Who inspires you? Anders: Bahamadia and my mother. Johan Lars Rasmussen and Jens Rasmussen Louise: Both of you are trained dancers but your practice is moving away from this. Johan you just went up on stage so maybe this question is more directed at Anders. Do you miss dancing? Anders: Not onstage, no. But dancing in itself is fantastic and I still do it (in clubs, my living room and sometimes in some small art gallery in a village outside of Stenungsund, which is a small town outside of Gothenburg). I don’t feel like some dancers that “If I don’t dance I will die”, but I also don’t feel like I have “quit”. I’m also working with Live Art Collective MELO, a constellation of dancers, musicians, architects, technicians and video artists that makes stage works, concerts, fanzines, street gigs and installations. That specific group of people and way of working gives me something that is very important to me on a different level than the work we are talking about here. I think it’s healthy to be in many different contexts. Louise: Will the two of you be sporting suits anytime soon? Anders: No. Johan: Yes. Anders: To Johan the suit is a state of mind...

Hybris Konstproduktion is the label of an artist-run organization that hosts several different initiatives, constellations and projects, such as PRODUKT, möte09, PRAXIS, and PROTOTYP. Hybris is an “invisible” name and has previously been only the legal name under which each individual project has operated in terms of funding. This is its first public performance. The organization was initiated in 2005 by Anders Jacobson and Johan Thelander, who continue to run it, although many other people are involved and connected to its activities. PRODUKT is primarily engaged in cultural political activities such as writing and consulting, PRAXIS is a discussion forum, möte09 is a project that took place during Spring 2009, involving some 40 artists. PROTOTYP is their current project that will engage in investigating how dance artists organize themselves and how this form of organization is connected to artistic practice.

Monday, August 10. 2009


A review of The Swedish Dance History WILL RAWLS

History publishes a statement of purpose announcing that this volume is “blurred and backwards. But it also comes from a desire to claim the right to history… a history that says goodbye to last Friday and looks forward to another end of the world.” Inserted within this two-page statement is a hand-drawn diagram of the process through which authors were exhorted to contribute writing. This diagram is either of a toilet, a water fountain or some combina-

Sweden that lies somewhere northwest of Hyderabad and east of Saskatoon tion thereof, with words attached to various sections of the plumbing. The History appears at one extreme end of the plumbing. In this position, the book’s likeness serves as the reservoir into which the run-off from the pipes of history flows, history as backsplattered, the dredged and recomposed. Or, reading right to left, if knowledge can flow uphill and backwards, The History is the source from which these discussions course into the other end of the diagram, labeled, “the existing history of dance”. The History is a demonstration of a future imperfect, a scrappy and determined stroke along the anti-clockwise grain.

Without a table of contents the reader inevitably plunges into The History, takes any page as the begi nning, the spark of the historical course, and from there, chooses her own path. After thumbing through this book one is not led to believe that a “dancing Sweden” exists on any map. Nor do the editors and producers wish to demarcate this kind of Sweden. An international cast of guest writers scrambles how the content belongs to Sweden; each writer is invited to consider choreography within an extended field of concerns, theoretical, practical, marginal, comical, institutional, interdisciplinary, extracurricular and postmortem.There’s even a fairytale or two. This plucky compilation of texts choreographs and coordinates a Sweden that lies somewhere northwest of Hyderabad and east of Saskatoon. It is potentially more populous than the United States and is probably closer than Narnia. As a concept, “Swedish Dance History” relates sympathetically (and charmingly) to a generic brand of stylized, choreographic internationalism, the way a Bento Box frames the California and Dragon rolls, or a smorgasbord frames Scandinavia, e.g. “This festival is a real Swedish Dance History, a Pu Pu platter of artists.” Bring your Barthesian chopsticks. Look forward to The Swedish Dance History book release (Vienna) party on Thursday, August 13. Details to follow in this week’s The Inpex.


Organising Lives An interview at the Impulstanz workshop office with Ruth and Annika. JESSYKA WATSON-GALBRAITH

Ruth: The thing is, the people we can remember by names are the people that make problems. If someone comes and picks up his workshop pass and says thankyou, we never see him again. People who want to cancel workshops, want to change workshops, there are a few names where I know which workshops they do, what they change. Annika: But on the other side we also we do the bookings weeks before the festival starts and sometimes you keep names in mind before we even see the faces. Some times we are laughing about funny names or so and you suddenly see the face of the person, which is really nice. This is really good, there are thousands of names. Shall we say a name? I don’t think so. R: A girl in the US cannot pay with her credit card and she is writing just messy emails to us “how can it be?”

“I have never been to Austria, I’ve never been to Europe, please help.” “how can I pay?” “please confirm the payment” and you write ten emails about the payment so of course you remember the name. And then she’s here and then she’s the girl that’s standing in the Museums Quartier in the wrong place and I have to call a cab to bring her (to the workshop).




When my editors first assigned me to review The Swedish Dance History, I was obliged to dig up several books for ready reference while reading: The Choreographer’s World Atlas, YouTube for Professionals, Bodies That Mastermind, Pride and Prejudice and Telepathy, Pippi and the Public Interest, and a number of other texts that immediately came to mind. The project of historicizing Swedish dance is about as possible as inventing an imaginary book title, which is to say: an entirely possible and purely creative act. International Performance Exchange (INPEX), “a Sweden based operation working for expanded international exchange in performing arts,” culled its members’ contact lists and Facebook friends to quite literally make history by supplying writing. The resultant 1037 page text, collected and laid out on International Dance Day, April 29th, 2009, represents the work of over 150 “makers and doers” in the field of dance. This history claimed that moment as historical, composed of a subjective and circumstantial team of first-responders. It is both an incomplete and imperfect composition of history and as INPEX would suggest, it is the brash, multitudinous gesture required to activate the dance field. The History is bound in silver foil stock paper that adopts the beholder’s likeness and fingerprints too well to be ignored. Reading also serves as imprint. In lieu of a table of contents, The


J: So you are like organising people’s lives as well. A: Somehow and ours. R: And some are very nice, one guy pumped up the wheels from my bicycle and than he brought us some strawberries, himbeer. J: Sounds like he like’s you. R: Yeah, I mean… A: I really made friends with a few people, but you cannot say anything general about people, there are very

And some are very nice, one guy pumped up the wheels from my bicycle and than he brought us some strawberries, himbeer. nice one’s that you meet in the evening when you are having a drink and then you get to talk to them. R: And if you are on Facebook as all the others are, I am not on Facebook. A: I am, yeah you are really starting to connect. J: And are they local people? A: The local people, no, I mean they are somehow so normal (laughs). We know a few of the local people that come, we knew them before so they don’t really mix up that much with the festival people, it’s more the in-

ternationals. Because I think the local people are just living here, they are not so interested in getting in to contact. R: This is not very local, but just read, it it’s funny… Text reads: How are you? The mail that sent previously Me the Harwood it drew out from the previously mail and multi it cancelled and it requested and I requested... and so on. (The text has obviously been put into translation software.) R: Claudia received an email that said, “I have never been to Austria, I’ve never been to Europe, please help.” J: (Gasps) This is like really basic stuff. That’s amazing. A; Sometimes yes. J: And what’s your normal line of study or work? A: I think you don’t want to hear it now. J: No no no, tell me. A; I was also working as a journalist. J: Uh huh. That’s ok I am not pretending to be real. Do you want to help us? A: I just know it’s sometimes making me feel nervous if I have to interview another interviewer. No but I am also doing my PhD on Anthropology. J: Which area is your interest? A; Refugee studies. J: Cool. And what about you? R: I am also doing my PhD. It’s theatre theory that I study. And next to theatre theory I do a lot of other things, so I don’t know if I am going to finish this PhD.

Long Live The Premiere This is a celebration that starts in minor. It’s a premiere party to come, but first let’s start in the foyer with some serious discourse. MARTEN SPÅNGBERG

… and we sit there in the studio after the showing and try to come up with something to say. Time crawls slowly like a turtle, and nobody says anything. Silence. A necessary silence, a caesura there in order to breathe aura into the form not yet achieved, but there as some kind of immanence. For half an hour politeness pours out of us: protecting the maker and defending our shared territory, as well as understanding of what dance and performance is, or should be. Leading questions are being asked to the maker, who when the questions are too banal distribute them to his or her performers. The next hour is even worse. At this moment the group is smaller (a friend with a weak connection to dance sneaks out together with the dramatrugy’s boyfriend), so that politeness can continue but now in an uncontested critical manner, i.e. freebasing more or less elegantly on philosophical concept that would be better of without being translated or turned into movement metaphors. What is actually good with showings? Of course it is good to receive feedback halfway through a process, and find out where the piece is failing to achieve what it desires. Of course it is good, in particular for students, to engage in articulating their work in language. But is it really so good to get feedback, and what authorizes our friends, schoolmates or competitors to have ideas of what a piece does or not achieve? Especially considering that you might have been busy with a set of ideas for half a year and your feedback panel rushed in ten minutes late dressed in an oversized Vespa helmet and on the phone. By the way, why just halfway? Why not, as is current in many high-class dance and choreography schools/educations: half, quarter, three quarter way and a bunch of times before the big day. With all that feedback it is almost impossible to make a shit piece, but equally impossible to make a piece that doesn’t look like all others. Why? Because, as part of the feedback staff I’m supposed to get it, grasp it, understand it. The instant your proposal is out there and I can’t articulate it, I will unavoidably force it back into canon and the already known. This is not evil or ill willing. On the contrary the argument is well meaning and intended to prevent you, the maker, from making a fool out of yourself. Which of course also implies to make a fool of the feedback panel. You, the panel, didn’t manage to make the artist make a good piece. No, this is not cynical. It might sound like it, but in fact this is a matter of a structural anomaly and is nothing personal. It is just the way things go, and we are all part of the same landscape wanting to preserve identity. Indeed, the reason for showing is not to test material, or a curiosity for what our colleagues thinks, it is about securing identity. We test our material in order to make sure we don’t engage in something that can threaten identity on micro and macro level. We talk about taking risks, experimental practices and the importance of asking questions, but isn’t showings with the obligatory discussion exactly the opposite something that in business is known as risk assessment. Showing is another word for business as usual. And the way we speak karaoke criticism.

But is it really so good to get feedback, and what authorizes our friends, schoolmates or competitors to have ideas of what a piece does or not achieve?

Oh yes, It get’s worse. That independent choreographers do showings is one thing, perhaps they don’t know better. But when schools and educations institutionalize showings concerning “personal work”, there is nobody to blame. In educational contexts showing must be understood as a panopticon, a selfperpetuating surveillance machine, i.e. a means to secure that not a single students makes personal work, but graciously (as in authentic movement) join the crusade of authorized well-intended differentiation. Or even better, the co-producing programmer that after pre-premiere showing innocently but with a pained face says: it’s very long… but of course we will never make piece that are too long since they have already been through half, so don’t worry. In short showings is suicide for any kind of radical change and the redistribution of power to all those who hasn’t done nothing at all. Or said in a slightly more dramatic way, showings are perfect neo liberalism: minimum intervention for maximum revenue and the support structure of excessive conservatism. Let’s instead reintroduce the premiere. Premiere is a gesture for the brave and the courageous, a moment when the whole world can fuck up, shit hits the fan and it might just be that Elvis will leave the building. Let’s screw the showing, which is like petting in the backseat, and celebrate high risk freaking premieres. Come on why are we in dance in the first place? To play it safe? Seriously, if that was the case, shouldn’t we ask for a raise? In order for dance to maintain it self as the celebratory art form it is we must turn to the premiere. Who, and I’m serious, has ever heard about a showing that ended up in a scandal. No way that’s reserved for the premiere at Theatre Champs Elysée. The Inpex, the worlds first dance newspaper, is the premiere I have been waiting for since the moon landing in 1969. Long live The Inpex, life without safety net, published without authorization and with a courage that can move not just mountains but the whole god damn chebang. This is PREMIERE and I like it.


Monday, August 10. 2009



(for performative reading out loud 3 people) KRÖÖT JUURAK

a: oh hi b: yes, hello. a: so, say what’s your take on language and positioning? b: häh? a: did you know, today’s issue of INPEX (the worlds first dance newspaper) is on “language and positioning” ? (short pause) b: is that a fact. a: yes, i think they are trying to create some new discourse on dance and performance. something that would be more adequate and perhaps also less boring. b: umm interesting. indeed the existing discourse is -a: but on the other hand even if they succeed the paper don’t really make us like suddenly change or something-- think and speak in a totally new way i mean. b: unless it would be read out loud, of course. but that is obviously too simple. c: indeed. it can’t be that easy. my theory is that we always try to make people think as WE do even if it’s not our own thoughts. (pause) c: like say where do you guys get your personal opinion? newspapers? b: other people obviously. personally i don’t give a damn. a: it’s beside the point- the age of personal opinion is over. (louder) we have arrived at the dissolving of the body. the revolution is over and thus about to begin. omg- it’s like a daily paper. c: INPEX is using the most traditional format in order to get something new going. is that a bad idea? a: i think it’s smart. newspaper is over-conventional - but then again it’s trash waiting to happen. c: haha- as bergson describes all material history-- a ruin to be b: exactly. b: they say they will “dig deep into dance culture, rethink performance, interview the new cool, uncover uncomfortable secrets, report from the wee hours and fabricate scandals”. (pause) a: would you say the INPEX robots are ruining the scene? b: i think they make a hype out of themselves a: maybe b: it’s interesting - self-hype is of course embarrassing when you are serious about it. but they aren’t - are they? a: i wonder c: but coming back to the topic maybe the embarrassing is the new cool? a: ahahaha b: hm- but isn’t it at least important to try? or keep trying? or shall we all just lie down and die? c: o, i better get going. thanks. a, b: see you tonight! Any resemblence to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.


Ballet in the dark. Point shoes is back in Impuls Tanz accompanied by Hans Zimmer’s film music and sad wall made of cardboard boxes. Emma Kim Hagdahl and Elizabeth Ward in DARK created together with Mårten Spångberg.

DARK ASS BALLET It’s DARK times not only for automotive industry. Right now dance is also taking side with the dark forces. Emma Kim Hagdahl, Mårten Spångberg (both from Sweden) and Elizabeth Ward, based in New York, hasn’t exactly taken up the light saber next to Darth Vader, but has put on their pointe shoes in a piece that explores dark energies with their first shared production. Experience the shadows in DARK at TQW at midnight 10 August. MÅRTEN SPÅNGBERG

I automatically turn around again when entering the studio. This can’t be the right address. In front of me sits a rather sad and not exactly wellmade wall constructed out of cardboard boxes. Déjà vu, the opening scene of Stanley Kubrick’s “Barry Lyndon” (1975), where two men in white fluffy shirts duel at dawn behind just such a wall, except it is not made of cardboard boxes and packing tape. Suddenly one of the performers brings me back from daydreaming, and I realize that the studio, which is also where the performance will take place, is the right place. It has a green floor upon which two dancers in point shoes appear to be engaged in something that easily could have been brought out of an epoch movie, especially since the dance is accompanied by high-tech soundscapes by Hans Zimmer, known for soundtracks to The Lion King, The Gladiator, The Da Vinci Code and so many more. With sky-high intensity and ice cold gazes the dancers glide over the floor and when the light changes to a deep red the cardboard wall shifts into a landscape where everything seems possible. DARK is the result of a brand new collaboration, however this is a term that the three members reject in favor for team. Emma Kim Hagdahl, Mårten Spångberg and Elizabeth

Ward have danced together before but DARK, realized at PAF, St Erme, is their first production. It’s a strange combo, no doubt, but the three find their positions elegantly. What has brought them together is an interest in rethinking ballet, it’s techniques, modes of production and obviously also its production of lifestyle. The gang I meet in the studio certainly doesn’t look or behave like a ballet company. Here classical discipline and its code of conduct have been interchanged for a generous atmosphere where difference in skill and ability is an opportunity. DARK, and our way of working together, is not a matter of questioning ballet, says Emma Kim Hagdahl, on the contrary it is about constructing new and alternative modes of producing in respect of a specific body technology connected to contemporary aesthetic consideration and discourses. Our work, as far as we understand it, is a celebration of ballet, continues Elizabeth Ward, not the representation of the ballet machine with its repressive culture and nostalgic costume symbolically speaking, but ballet as an expression with extraordinary potentiality. We want to rescue ballet from its history and give it back something of its vitality. When I ask them about deconstruction in contemporary ballet, one of

the group’s members describes how deconstruction break open ballet but never the less honor its traditions. Deconstruction outside philosophy must fail, says Mårten Spångberg, precisely because it knows its history. We also know our history, and in order to rid our selves of its grip, enabling it, we must confront it with modes of production that we can’t determine. In our conversation Samuel Beckett is repeatedly mentioned. In one segment of the ballet the dancers recite a late text of the Irish author internally. The text is an inquiry into energy, light and spatial understanding, which is completed by the choreographic method borrowed from Beckett’s score Quad, where four performs exhaust what at initially appear as a simplistic movement pattern. Exhaustion is not the same as getting tired but could be compared with emptying something of meaning. It is as if I’m seeing the choreography backwards, instead of coming to an end and being actualized, it seems to evaporate and instead of coming to an end opens for a countless number of possible choreographies. DARK is not this or that ballet, it’s whatever ballet and it seems to take place in my head. Mårten Spångberg who is not dancing but has functioned as “ballet master”, tells me that the piece is

CALENDAR 10.08.09 / DARK Performance by Emma Kim Hagdahl, Mårten Spångberg and Elizabeth Ward / Tanz Quartier Wien / Midnight 11.08.09 / The Inpex Release Party Schnapsloch 12.08.09 / The Swedish Dance History Book Release Party Vienna - Schnapsloch

at The Inpex Editorial Office...

If I could just have sex with his spirit then I would totally go for it. at Schnapsloch...

Go home! But the question is if you’re gonna come with me. at the Festival Lounge

Regarding stolen wallet. I think it’s a north African man. But he’s very well dressed.

“AND THAT’S THE WAY IT IS.” Walter Kronkite

LOCAL NEWS Swine Flu almost wipes out Arsenale Three Swedish dancers with slight colds on arrival at Schwechat airport discovered that it was the deadly Swine flu virus that had a hold on them. After not being able to attend their workshops on the first or second days, they whisked themselves off to hospital where they were quarantined for five days. They were then send home to Sweden, where their full recovery has taken place.

Missing Toe LOST – Tiny little toe ring. If you found it please give it to the office or call Lua 0043 650 362 6868. She’d be so happy to have it back.

Warning Thieves are around. Two wallets were stolen at the lounge on Friday night. One wallet was found, no cash inside. The other never showed up. We hope the hefty sum inside was spent well.

Love blossoming One of the staff of the Arsenale Cafee was invited by a French dancer to see the Jan Fabre/Troublelyn performance. When asked what the future of this relationship his answer was she’s gone back to France now and I have another date on, when is it? Yeah Wednesday.

informed by moments when time is assigned but has no signifiers, about durations that does not take time but spread out. I ask him for an example and he mentions the moment in funerals when each person says a last good bye. It’s not the action but the time afterwards, when others say their last good bye. A time where you can’t do anything, as it would be somewhat disturbing – like starting the to send a text message, think about sex with a cousin - and still you are there. What happens with us in those moments, when time is something but not some thing, when it passes but cannot be measured? The performance is set up with small lamps on the floor, without theatre technology, and the audience is supposed to lie around on blankets. The trio emphasizes that sleeping, cuddling or small whispers are perfectly okay, and that the piece, however dramatic in expression, is less a dance than a thinking machine where everything is visible and transparent. The only thing we ask our public is to accept the situation, and let it happen. It’s all there and nothing unconventional will happen. This performance is about the ability give in, to give something of one self up and be DARK. DARK follows up a tendency in contemporary dance with a hang up on affect. Affect means that the spectator rather than interpreting the work and confirming it’s meaning is engaged through sensibilities that function as irritations on the body. Irritations that make the spectator think, and in that sense rather then telling the spectator to emancipate him or herself, is offering the possibility for emancipation. DARK doesn’t make you busy; it makes you want to busy yourself. It is a performance where almost nothing is happening and when it does, it’s nothing special. Still, at the premiere, I was so busy that I hardly had time to look at the piece. But then it happened to me, DARK is a tribute to Michael Jackson, a time to remember things we didn’t know we had experienced. DARK is like walking backwards out of the future in to now, a now that I can hardly recognize but I know here is here and now is now. It’s DARK.


“COME THE FUCK ON.” Emma Kim Hagdahl

The Inpex - Edition One  
The Inpex - Edition One  

A free daily newspaper The Inpex is being produced, published and distributed in Vienna. The Inpex is a means to produce and distribute news...