Whatever it was, his mega-personal dance had its own kind of agony—one, perhaps, akin to a self-exorcism, the singular artist exposing his tongue, softly whistling and offering a series of muted cries, a scenario that also became our torment, until the mood instantly transformed when Zangs went into the audience and snagged a tube of lipstick.
Smearing the stuff on his lips, then face, here was the prankster as if channeling Stephen King’s shapeshifting Pennywise the Dancing Clown. And talk about fierce pirouettes! Zangs had them in spades, along with several mighty leaps and a backward fall.
Retrieving his guitar—and again making use of a capo yet still playing in what seemed to be an extraterrestrial key—Zang himself seemed not of this world, while the onlookers (this viewer among them), was completely silent, riveted by the moment: performance as a gateway drug to unfettered emotions and perceptions, both past and present.
Since “Ulysse Marion” had its world premiere last summer at the Montpellier Dance Festival, where it was presented outdoors, when seen within the confines of REDCAT, the work, with its decidedly European flair and testament to Dada—where cleaving to absurdity, chance and the rejection of traditional aesthetics happily ruled - its impact proved visceral. But how, one might ask, can this be possible in such bare bone dances, where virtuosity as we know it, has morphed into everyday gesturing, and subversion is the rule of the day?
This, then, is the power of great art. Encore, s’il vous plait!
comments