iCoDaCo 2018

What does 'it' mean? by Zsuzsanna Komjáthy (Hungary) by Israel Aloni

Original text in Hungarian below.

What does ‘it’ mean?

“>>It<< makes a move. >>It<< could be a man, a woman, a louse, an elephant.”

Gilles Deleuze & Felix Guattari

It will come later – after seeing the latest work-in-progress performance of iCoDaCo in Budapest, this title makes me wonder: what might come later? The premiere, the moment we recognise a message behind, the dance itself, or something else? 

What might come later? What might be hiding behind, or rather, between and beyond the words? What does ‘it’ mean? 

The questions are tempting yet challenging to answer, as the field where we can seek for the explanation – i.e. both the environment that is evolving onstage and the context wherein the whole project is embedded – is a transforming space that does not have an exact, final shape. Moreover, it is an ephemeral, precarious mutability, "a becoming-space of the body, and a becoming-body of space, a becoming-thing of the organic, a becoming-organic of things.” (Lepecki 2016: 181.)

On the level of iCoDaCo project, ‘it’ engages itself in a critique towards the concept of interculturality that stems from island-premiss, and relies on “the separatist character of cultures” (Welsch 1999).  Instead, the project proposes the concept of transculturality that proclaims that “authenticity has become folklore” (Welsch 1999) and entails a more hybrid and constantly forming approach (becoming-space) both on the macro-level of conceptualizing and on the micro-level of working. 

It is not unintended that Israel Aloni, the leading producer of iCoDaCo, suggested ‘Transformations’ as a working title. Here, six artists from four different countries that faced with a serious social challenge at the beginning of the project in 2016 (the fundamental principles of democratic model has shaken somehow) meet and share their energies to bring a virtual level of creation to existence. They gear together and compose a new surface that has neither a starting nor an ending point – only the middle. 

‘How do you make decisions?’ I ask them.

‘Collectively,’ answers Imre Vass and laughs. I laugh back at him, however, I know, it must be true.

‘We do not work separately on our own. Regarding the creating process, we do everything together. We start floating our ideas, and see how they develop. Sometimes, one movement transforms into something new and we are surprised and flattered like children. We experiment, and then we see’ explains Lee Brummer (not with these exact words).

Besides this permanently renewable democracy of creating, the milieu as the environment of creating also changes constantly. All the participants spend two weeks in each other’s native country and through workshops, work-in-progress performances, artist talks and so on, they engage with the local people. By each gathering, at each stage, the production transforms and develops by the effects and experiences.

So we can say, that on each plane of creating:

1th plane: macro level of context (countries);

2th plane: micro level of context (locations);

3th plane: macro level of creating (working),

there are similar assemblages in the proximity, and the only ‘fixed’ line that intersects them is transformation itself. It is a ‘following’ approach (i.e. it engages in a continuous variation of variables), where planes intersect each other through transformations to form a shared, smooth surface. This process points toward an abstract labour, a vortical flow or an itinerant line that always escapes from us when we try to define it. 

But what might ‘it’ mean on the level of performance? What might lie/hide/escape in the middle of the 4th stratum (micro level of creating)? - A kind of danger, one might say and s/he would be certainly right as ‘it’ feeds from that becoming-space that we endeavoured and failed to name above. 

In the middle of the middle, there is a white, semi-transparent curtain hanging on the stage. 

‘Watching the performance I tried to unravel the whole time what might the role of the curtain be’ – says Dorottya Albert (dance critic), a guest of the work-in-progress performance, and her words made me wonder. Is the curtain symbolizing that ‘it’? Or being exterior to resemblance, is ‘it’ the curtain itself?

For me, the curtain assigns that ‘itinerant line’ (or ‘line of flight’) that I have referred to above. It connects, mobilizes and sometimes obscures events that are developing onstage, and creates “indivisible distances that are ceaselessly transformed, and cannot be divided or transformed without their elements changing in nature each time”. (Deleuze–Guattari 1987: 31-33.)

In this ceaselessness, there are the six dancers moving or rather being “moved by some thing”. (cf. Lepecki 2016:  60-70) The movements are strange, quite apersonal and obsessed as if they did not belong to the performers exactly. As if they were constantly being overwritten by the becoming-thing they convey, and in parallel, as if they were also overwriting that becoming that bears them.

Sometimes, the performers shudder in cramp performing subordinated muscle-statues that are seemingly moved by against their will. In other cases, they coagulate (even though distorted) trying to be that intensity that make thing(s) happen. What could that all mean? Where does this conjunction point to?

Following André Lepecki’s argumentation on understanding “being moved by a thing”, we can say that this process might mark a point of singularization. A critical move that glimmers on the edge of subjectivity, and opens up a more radical assemblage in proxy: a moving-towards-impossibility, or a moving towards moving-as-thing. 

But this, as far as I know, will come later. Moving-as-thing will come later. Once it is here, we can say that we have transformed into that beast or that machine that can dance gracefully. Since the goal might have always been this: to dance gracefully.

Zsuzsanna Komjáthy

References: 

André Lepecki. Singularities: Dance in the Age of Performance. New York: Routledge, 2016.

Wolfgang Welsch. Transculturality - the Puzzling Form of Cultures Today in Spaces of Culture: City, Nation, World, ed. by Mike Featherstone and Scott Lash, London: Sage 1999, 194-213. <http://www2.uni-jena.de/welsch/papers/W_Wlelsch_Transculturality.html, 01/12/2018.>

Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis, 1987.


Mit jelent “az”?

“>>Az<< tesz egy mozdulatot. >>Az << lehet egy férfi, egy nő, egy tetű, egy elefént.”

Gilles Deleuze & Felix Guattari


It will come later, magyarra fordítva: [Az] később következik – sokatmondó cím. Az iCoDaCo legutóbbi, Budapesten tartott munkabemutatóját követően pedig egyre csak azon tűnődöm: vajon mi következhet később? A bemutató, a pillanat, mikor felismerünk egy rejtett üzenetet, maga a tánc vagy valami egészen más?

Mi búvik e szavak ([Az] később következik) mögött, között és azokon túl? Mit jelent “az”?

A kérdés csábító (szinte szükségszerű) és egyben roppant komplex is, nehéz egyértelműen megválaszolni. Hiszen a mező, ahol bármiféle válasz után kutathatunk, vagyis mind a színpadon kibontakozó környezet, mind a kontextus, melybe a projekt beleágyazott, egy folyton alakuló, változó tér, melynek nincs egzakt, végső formája. Valójában egy illékony, ismeretlen kimenetelű változékonyság, „a test tér-leendése és a tér test-leendése, a szervek dolog-leendése és a dolgok szerv-leendése.” (Lepecki 2016: 181.)

A projekt szintjén “az” egy kritika felé mutat, méghozzá az interkulturalitás eszméjének kritikája felé. Az interkulturális ugyanis alapvetően az elszigeteltségben hisz, és „kultúrák elkülönülő karakterén” nyugszik (Welsch 1999).  Az iCoDaCo ezzel szemben a transzkulturalitás koncepcióját követi, mely szerint „az autentitás ma már folklór” (Welsch 1999), és egy hibrid, folyamatosan változó (tér-leendés) megközelítést képvisel, mind a projekt makro-, mind a munka mikroszintjén.

Nem véletlen, hogy Israel Aloni, az iCoDaCo vezető producere munkacímként az „Átváltozások” szót választotta. Itt, hat alkotó négy különböző országból egyesíti az erejét, hogy valami újat (mást) létrehozzon. Összekapaszkodnak, és egy új felszínt, új síkot kreálnak, melynek valójában sem eleje, sem vége nincsen – csak a közepe. Beszédes, hogy a választott alkotók/táncosok egyenként olyan helyről érkeztek, melyek a projekt kezdetén (is) komoly társadalmi kihívásokkal néztek szembe (a demokratikus működési modell megingott). 

- Hogyan hoztok döntéseket? – kérdezem.

- Közösen – feleli Vass Imre, a projekt magyar résztvevője, majd nevet. Visszanevetek rá, jóllehet tudom, igaz lehet.

- Nem dolgozunk csak úgy magunkban. Minden közösen csinálunk, már ami a projektet illeti. Bedobjuk az ötleteinket, és megnézzük, hová fejlődnek, mi lesz belőlük. Van, hogy egy mozdulat hirtelen egészen mássá válik, valami újjá, ilyenkor persze nagyon örülünk, hogy rátaláltunk erre a mozdulatra. Kísérletezünk, és aztán valami lesz – fejti ki részletesebben Lee Brummer (nem szó szerint ezekkel a szavakkal).

Az alkotás folyamatosan megújuló, demokratikus munkamódszere mellett maga az alkotás miliője (mint környezet) is állandóan változik. A résztvevők két-két hetet töltenek el a másik bázis országában, és ott workshopokon, munkabemutatókon, artist talk-okon stb. keresztül a helyiekkel is kapcsolatba kerülnek. A produkció minden egyes állomáson, minden egyes alkalommal ezen tapasztalatok, ezen benyomások és visszaigazolások szerint változik, módosul.

Tulajdonképpen azt mondhatjuk, hogy az alkotás minden síkján és szintjén:

  1. sík: a kontextus makroszintje (bázis országok);

  2. sík: a kontextus mikroszintje (alkotás helyei);

  3. sík: a létrehozás makroszintje (munka),

hasonló elrendeződéseket követ a projekt, és az egyetlen „fix” dolog, mely mindegyiken keresztül fut, az maga a változás, a leendés. Ez egy „követő” stratégia (az „utánzó” helyett), mely a változékonyság folyamatos variációja felé kötelezi el magát, és melyben az egyes síkok éppen az átváltozások által metszik egymást, hogy aztán a metszések és mutációk által egy sima, új felszínt alkossanak. Ez a folyamat pedig egy absztrakt munka felé mutat, egy örvénylő lebegés vagy vándorló vonal felé, mely mihelyst a megnevezésére teszünk kísérletet, kicsúszik a markunkból. Elszökik.

De vajon mit jelent „az” az előadás szintjén? Mi fekhet/rejtőzhet/szökhet az alkotás negyedik szintjén (a létrehozás mikroszintjén)? – Egyfajta veszély, vághatnánk rá, és nem is teljesen alaptalanul. Mert hiszen „az” abból a tér-leendésből táplálkozik, melyet az imént hiába próbáltunk megnevezni.

A közép közepén, a színpadon egy áttetsző függöny lóg. 

- Az előadás alatt végig azt próbáltam megfejteni, mi lehet a függöny szerepe. – mondja Albert Dorottya (tánckritikus) a munkabemutatót követő beszélgetésen. A szavai pedig elgondolkodtatnak. Vajon a függöny szimbolizálhatja „azt”? Vagy, a hasonlóság modelljén kívülre helyezkedve, talán úgy kérdezhetnénk: vajon a függöny „az”? 

Annyi bizonyos, hogy a függöny valahol annak a „vándor vonalnak” (vagy szökésvonalnak) a helyét jelöli, melyről fentebb beszéltem. Összekapcsol, mobilizál és néha elrejt dolgokat a színpadon, létrehoz egy „oszthatatlan távolságot, mely szakadatlanul átváltozik, és melyet lehetetlen szétmorzsolni vagy megváltoztatni anélkül, hogy az elemei természetükben ne változnának minden egyes alkalommal” (Deleuze–Guattari 1987: 31-33.).

Az előadók pedig ebben a szakadatlanságban mozognak, vagy inkább vannak „mozgatva egy dolog által” (vö. Lepecki 2016: 60-70). A mozdulataik idegenek, személytelenek és megszállottak, mintha nem hozzájuk tartoznának egészen. Mintha a mozdulatokat állandóan felülírná az a dolog-leendés, melyet magukban hordoznak, és ezzel párhuzamosan, mintha ők maguk is folyamatosan felülírnák az átváltozásokat, melyek őket hordozzák.

Van, hogy a táncosok görcsös, valamiféle furcsa uralom alá vont izom-szobrokba rándulnak, melyek láthatóan az akaratuk ellenére mozognak (vagy vannak mozgatva). Máskor egyesített erővel, torz akaratként igyekeznek azzá az intenzitássá válni, ami a dolgokat, a történéseket előmozdítja. De vajon mit jelent mindez? Hová, merre mutathat?

André Lepecki gondolatmenetét követve a „mozgatva egy dolog által” összefüggéseinek megértésében, azt mondhatjuk, hogy egyfajta szingularizáció felé. Egy olyan kritikus mozgás felé, mely a szubjektivitás peremén cikáz, és mely egy radikális elrendeződést nyit meg annak közelében: egy elmozdulást a lehetetlen felé, elmozdulást a dologként-való-mozgás felé.

De ez, ha minden igaz, ez majd később jön; a dologként-való-mozgás később következik. És ha egyszer itt van, akkor majd mondhatjuk, hogy azzá a bestiává, azzá a masinává változtunk, mely képes kegyelemmel táncolni. Mert a cél sosem volt más: kegyelemmel táncolni. 

Zsuzsanna Komjáthy

(Az eredeti angol, What does ‘it’ mean? című szöveg szerző általi fordítása)

Idézett szövegek: 

André Lepecki. Singularities: Dance in the Age of Performance. New York: Routledge, 2016.

Wolfgang Welsch. Transculturality - the Puzzling Form of Cultures Today in Spaces of Culture: City, Nation, World, ed. by Mike Featherstone and Scott Lash, London: Sage 1999, 194-213. <http://www2.uni-jena.de/welsch/papers/W_Wlelsch_Transculturality.html, 01/12/2018.>

Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis, 1987.

Text contribution by Dylan Huw (Wales) by Israel Aloni

It’s like group therapy almost

On the margins of language, movement and creation


I have no verbs probably to describe what the hell just happened

Lee Brummer, dancer, Wednesday 12.09.18

***

On my first day observing the early stages of the ICoDaCo process in Cardiff’s Chapter arts centre, it is Lee’s turn to propose a group exercise. She would like to probe the meaning of transformation (the project’s “guide word”) more deeply – to question and deepen her collaborators’ assumptions about what it fundamentally means to transform, to be transformed, or to experience transformation. 

The task she sets is simple. Each of the dancers is to sit alone – it ends up being for around an hour – and write about a transformation they have personally experienced, which they then read aloud to the group. They can approach their text, and indeed the idea of “transformation,” in any which way they choose.

I know words better than I know dance; I feel safer, somehow, listening and responding to language. As I observe the dancers writing – sat in separate corners of the room, deep in the strain and internal chaos of personal reflection – I realise this safeness has a more profound dimension than I might have initially assumed. What I am observing is artists at work; producing something (in this case, writing; usually dance) out of the raw material of memory and imagination. Does the specific medium of an artist’s response to a topic, an idea or a memory truly matter that much? A (dance) artist at work is an artist at work. This becomes a central theme of the day. 

Transcultural collaboration in movement, with the goal of creating a group dance piece, which is the premise of ICoDaCo, nonetheless becomes something very different once you reduce (if only briefly) that collaboration to a language-, speech- or writing-based kind. Its intercultural nature is a central part of ICoDaCo’s fabric, but the pleasures or difficulties which we usually project onto intercultural communication are largely absent in a movement-based practice; different languages, accents, worldviews, backgrounds, approaches are elided when a group’s collaboration is so purely physical. Lee’s task foregrounds these elements to the group’s collaborative relationship, introducing the issue of language to the group dynamic.

The individual transformations explored by each of the performers in their responses to Lee’s task range from the banal to the immensely poignant. Joseph reads bilingually, in his native Cantonese and in English, withholding the specifics of his transformation to the rest of us in the room, who do not speak Cantonese. Thus, we only hear about the impact this mysterious seismic event had on him. Eddie’s – also delivered bilingually – is a two-pronged narrative, about a boy in Eddie’s school who replied to a teacher asking what he wants to be when he grows up with “I want to be a horse,” and evokes the story of the martyred Welsh Benedictine monk, Saint John Roberts. Vasi recalls the first time he witnessed contemporary dance – a piece entitled Group Therapy –  and invites us, his listeners, to dream with him, imagining ourselves travelling through time like the figures in Chris Marker’s La jetée. Veronica addresses a rehearsal in which she and a collaborator appeared to switch bodies, a transcendentally intimate experience. “Language,” she says, “seems to poor to describe it.” Finally, Lee opens up with two comparably intimate experiences, exploring what it means to belong to someone in the most primal sense.

After everyone has recited their transformation, one of the dancers verbalises what we are all thinking: this exercise, it’s like group therapy almost.

***

Do we think transformations as necessarily having a before and after? Or are ‘transformative’ events usually more suspended in time? This becomes the defining conundrum of the day, around which all others necessarily revolve. I keep returning to how Joseph kept self-correcting as he read his transformation. Remembering is fluid, and so are writing and reciting. How do we express the act of reflecting, that fluidity, in movement? What rituals, and which details, might make very personal reflections into something collective?

***

The next step in Lee’s exercise is a more challenging one. The dancers are to recite isolated lines from their transformative texts at random, all at the same time, creating a collective rhythm in which their narratives collide and complement each other. They gradually begin to seem to tune into one another.

“We call it group therapy.” 

“Dwishe bod yn geffyl” – I want to be a horse.

“Why does this keep happening to me?” 

“It just felt right.” 

“I was standing stage right.”

“Forgetting is definitely not an option.”

“What a waste of life.”

These phrases, birthed in different languages and from very different contexts, begin to assume the character of a large abstract narrative, an obscure sound essay on the many different voices of transformation, a choose-your-own-adventure story, perhaps.


Someone interrupts the vocal collage to ask: Is transformation always poetic? What does (or how would) non-poetic transformation look and feel like? Nobody has the answer.

***

After my first day with ICoDaCo, snippets of speech from the group voice exercise ring around my head like a stream of nonsense consciousness:

“From outside, there is one noticeable transformation.”

“Sai’n cofio beth wedes i.” – I can’t remember what it was I said.

“I tried to find respect.”

I was struck then – and the sensation lingered – by how easily these alternately profound and life-altering and disturbing recollections were rendered sort of banal through endless repetition, the phrases weaved among one another in so many ways as to make their meanings, well, meaningless.

The transformations the collaborators addressed were all very different, but some pertinent themes appeared in all of them. The voice-collage exercise, in particular, appeared to emphasise the strange continuities in these very different narratives. Almost all the dancers’ transformations addressed an element of being lost – and most of them contained an element of transformation in the sense of wanting to be someone else. Someone uses the phrase “different losts,” a method of making sense of the chaotic disorientation to which Lee’s task gave way.

What better phrase to describe the challenge, the awkwardness, the joy, of trying to evoke transformation in collective movement – or of the act of collaboration itself. We are always in the process of navigating the “different losts” which dictate our lives and creative outputs. Through the kind of collaboration which ICoDaCo enacts, we tread paths that, if they might not show us ways of being less lost, might at least guide us in making those different losts into something beautiful; perhaps, even, something transformative.

Dylan Huw

Text Documentation of presentation in Hong Kong by Israel Aloni

Text Documentation by Israel Aloni

The following text was written spontaneously whilst watching a work in progress presentation of materials that iCoDaCo 2018 has been developing during their residency in Hong Kong (6th - 22nd of August)

iCoDaCo team members who were physically present in the residency and the work in progress showing: Artists: Lee Brummer, Imre Vass, Eddie Ladd, Mui Cheuk Yin & Weronika Pelczynska.
Producers: Gwyn Emberton, Jacqueline Wong, Marta Wołowiec & Israel Aloni.

ArtisTree Hong Kong. 
August 22th 2018  6:45 pm

Presentation

The evening’s background and context is shared with the public by Jacqueline Wong and Gwyn Emberton.
Who we are, where we are from, what we do and what is iCoDaCo.
English then Cantonese then English, then Cantonese…

Introduction of all the present artists and telling about Joseph Lee not being physically present in the residency and presentation in Hong Kong but will join the process in the next residency in Wales. Joseph will meet most of the collective in Tanzmesse Germany next week where we will share information about and some materials from the project with the international dance community. 

Vasi is describing the concept and the stracture of the improvisation. 

7 min

Vasi lays down, face to floor
Stiff
His bright pink top stands out on the black floor.
Attension. Lee & Eddie attend to Vasi. 
Eddie leaves and Lee flips him over. Eddie goes away.
Now Eddie and Mui approach Lee and Vasi and Weronika can not resist and she joins them too.
Vasi, still stiff.
Statue.
The women, like mother apes trying to fix/arrange a baby monkey
Eddie, Lee, Mui and Weronika nurture Vasi like a folk of alpha females. Holding him together, fixing his clothes, supporting him. He remains indifferent.
A child bursts out laughing in the crowd.
Laughter of joy or discomfort?
The child appears male, are they sympathising with the only male appearing individual on stage who is manipulated by all the females?
Vasi must be moved. The other 4 performers carry him to another part of the space. They lay him back down on the floor.
Mui’s head is now covered by the back of Vasi’s jumper.
Their heads are both covered with the pink fabric.
Their image of their bodies blends into one solid silhouette. It is hard to distinguish which body part belongs to whom and whether they each faces the floor or the ceiling.    
Lee exposes Vasi’s head, the difference between Vasi and Mui is now evident again. 
Exchange. Who is lying on whom? Who is seen and who is concealed?
Duplication, replication, repetition.

6 min

Mui is frozen.
Eddie lays black socks over her ankles.
The black socks converse to her black hair which is now messy after being under Vasi’s jumper.
Delicate. 
Sensitive movement. Trying to balance the sock on her ankles, Mui moves slowly. 
The socks become precious and charged. 
They are just socks.
Negotiation. Conversation about rules and boundaries.
What is comforting and what is annoying?
Who is controlling the situation and who is following?
Mui and Lee alone in space.
The light turns blue.
Alarm

5 min

Weronika. Bear
In the middle of the space. 
Vasi approaches suspiciously.
Change of direction and leave.
Lee: “It doesn’t do anything”
Cough
Mui is coughing. Approaching the bear. Waving hello. 

4 min

Eddie went to fetch the fire extinguisher
Weight training
“Carry an object high”
“You do it until you start breathing quite hard”
“Then you start sweating a little”
Bodybuilders
Transformation of a shoe
Vasi is pausing. Nearly naked.
Slight sound from the extinguisher.
Alarm

3 min

Eddie grabs the mic
Carbon dioxide exercise
Breath in … breath out… breath in… breath out… 
Breath sound and movement on stage.
Intimacy
Closeness and experimentation
Introducing your rhythm and your sound to someone else and to the space
The alarm went off but the performers didn’t hear it.
They continue in the task.
An animal. Mui is crawling on the floor.
The sound is still in the room. Eddie and Mui are no longer in it though.
We just hear them breath and talk into the mic but we do not know where they are.
Horror movie.
Eddie: “Go away. Stay away. Leave us alone”
Not here and not now
“Leave me a lone”
Whisper.

2 min

Vasi and Mui start a dance with Mui’s top
Dynamic.
Romantic.
Repetition. 
Longing
Love
Fidgeting
Calming down
Relating
ALARM
Continuing
Stoping

1 min

Thank you! 
That was it.

Conversation with the public

Weronika explains how the collective worked and their approach to the score/improvisation structure
Does anyone have any questions?
I go to join the public discussion…

 

The work in progress sharing was live-streamed online, click HERE for to watch the video on iCoDaCo's Facebook page.