Dancing in your face and lap

In the spring of 2006, as I was walking towards the BAM (Brooklyn Academy of Music) building in New York, a man offered me USD 200 in cash in exchange of my ticket for Israeli contemporary dance company Batsheva’s “Mamootot”. Although I could recall paying USD 36 for that ticket, my mom was a math teacher and I had never heard of Batsheva before, I politely declined that offer and instead rushed upstairs to the Hillman Studio and found myself a seat next to a reserved one which was later used by a dancer. That was also my first experience, and an unforgettable one, watching contemporary dance in the theatre-in-the-round configuration.  

In the years that followed, I have watched Batsheva’s other works in Melbourne, Singapore as well as at their home base namely Suzanne Dellal Centre for Dance and Theatre in Tel Aviv. Back home, I was only able to watch “Gaga”, a documentary film that explains the unique dance language and philosophy developed by the company’s choreographer and former artistic director Ohad Naharin--thanks to the screening by the Israeli embassy here.  

As I was entering a large theatre complex Le Corum in Montpellier last month, I saw a woman holding a sign. My French is as bad as my Japanese but I could guess that she wanted to buy a ticket for Batsheva’s “2019”, the most sought-after ticket in this 42nd annual edition of Montpellier Danse, a co-producer of this work. I did the same as 16 years ago as my excitement rose.

To the audience’s surprise, although the work was staged at the 1,800-seat Opéra Berlioz, our tickets were marked “placement libre” and we could take either the left or right entrance without having to check if our seat number was odd or even. Once inside, we saw that all audience seats were empty and instead we’re led onto the stage area that was set up with a long and narrow platform, a white curtain and an audience stand with only five rows. Thanks to my nearsightedness, farsightedness and astigmatism, I choose one on the front row. 

After a male dancer in stilettos made a pre-show announcement in multiple languages asking us to turn off our mobile phones came another surprise when we found that we’re in a traverse stage configuration and there’s another audience stand opposite to ours.   

In more than 70 minutes that followed, Naharin discussed many issues of Israel and the world through his unpredictable choreography and masterly use of the traverse stage which was not frequently used in either dance or theatre and required high mobility. This stage configuration also meant that each member of the audience had a different view of the performance, the same way we do many other things in life, and those on the front row, of course, needed to turn their heads to the left and right more often than others. Also, from any seat we couldn’t see the performance without seeing our fellow audiences.  

Accordingly, his 18 dancers lived up to this special task in which the audience’s gaze came from all angles. A diverse ensemble including two Japanese and one Korean dancers, they were arresting both individually and collectively and didn’t show any sign of exhaustion as they’re putting on two performances of “2019” in an evening. 

In a scene the pace and tone of which highly contrasted with the remainder, a dancer sang “You, Me and the Next War” as others walked into both audience stands, put on their masks, unrolled duvets they kept under our seats and then rested on our laps. Then, a magical moment that was never repeatable occurred. After turning my head around to see what’s happening at different corners of this temporary theatre, my eyes then fixed on five seats away on my row. An elderly woman was gently stroking the hair of a young male dancer in her lap as if he were her grandson. Without understanding a word of Hebrew in the song, my tears poured down my cheeks covered with a mask. A lot has happened in our lives over the past two years and the world is not the same as we knew it and yet, as Yeats wrote, “There are no strangers here; only friends you haven’t yet met.” 

An Israeli dance critic colleague and poet Anat Zecharia later emailed me the English translation of this song by Hanoch Levin and Maxim Waratt, the first stanza of which was “When we walk along, we are three, You, Me and the Next War. When we sleep, we are three,
You, Me and the Next War.”

Notwithstanding all the efforts during the pandemic to bring live performing arts to our personal screens, “2019” proves that there remain many works that need to be seen in the presence of other audience members and performers and that multiple audience perspectives cannot be captured even by VR technology. Despite all political issues of their home country, Batsheva Dance Company remains her unyielding cultural ambassador. Given their long history at and frequent visits to Montpellier Danse, they can be expected on this shore of the Mediterranean for decades to come. 

More details are at www.montpellierdanse.com and batsheva.co.il/en/home

By Pawit Mahasarinand

Montpellier, France

The writer’s trip was supported by Montpellier Danse. Special thanks to Maiwenn Rebours and Ambre Martin.

Photos: Ascaf