Razgovor sa Svetozarom Adamovićem, prvakom baleta Narodnog pozorišta, povodom igranja predstave "Kejv" Marka Milića, 26.10.2016. na ovogodišnjem KONDENZU.
Da li postoji snažna seksualna fantazija bez traume
Nakon višegodišnjeg scenskog iskustva koje imaš, šta ti je bio izazov u radu na predstavi Kejv?
Izazov rada sa Markom je scenska koncepcija koja je meni bila nepoznata, samim tim i zanimljiva i želeo sam da se upustim u to novo iskustvo. Zapravo, u našem radu je isplivalo nekoliko zanimljivih i za mene teških izazova. Jedan od njih je potpuno nov pristup scenskom izrazu, meni do tada nepoznat. Minimalistički pokret je potpuna suprotnost mom dosadašnjem radu i to je bio jedan od najvećih izazova. Dodatna težina je rad bez muzike kao pratnje za pokrete tela. Muzička pratnja prilično olakšava pokrete jer pomaže u prenošenju emocija na gledaoca, a u Kejvu toga nema, tako da je na ispitu bio moj celokupan talenat, koncentracija i jačina enregije koju nosim u sebi.
Marko polazi od nagosti kao najjačeg efekta koje telo na sceni može da proizvede. Kako ti doživljavaš svoje telo u ovom radu?
Skidanjem odeće zapravo sam ogolio svoj duh, emociju, a ne samo telo. Dozvolio sam svojoj energiji da nesmetano luta kreativnošću i došao sam do ličnog saznanja nesputane slobode. Svoje nago telo u projektu Kejv doživljavam kao oslobađanje od svih društvenih stega, lažnog morala i odeće za koju se previše vezujemo i koja treba da nas definiše, a zapravo smo najdefinisaniji upravo kad smo goli. Telo igrača je njegov instrument i ja svoje telo smatram svojim instrumentom, a i umetničkim delom koje učestvuje u kreiranju drugog umetničkog dela. Kejv je simbioza Markove kreativnosti i senzibilnosti sa mojom energijom i iskustvom, a u ovom slučaju moje nago telo nadogradilo je i dalo pečat celoj zamisli!
Nije uobičajeno da naši klasični igrači, naročito oni koji imaju 30 godina umetničke karijere kao ti, učestvuju u savremenim plesnim projektima. Odakle dolazi motivacija da napravite ovakav rad?
Scena poseduje neiscrpnu magiju i ta magija pruža talentovanim ljudima bezgraničnu inspiraciju. Klasičan balet je fundament moje karijere i mog umetničkog života, ali talenat vas vuče da istražite i mnoge druge segmenete umetničke igre i različitost scenskog izraza, u okviru same klasike, a i van nje. Danas imamo mnoge stilove igre koji su zapravo izrašli iz klasike i nadogradili je. Mene takođe zanima svaki vid scenskog izraza jer otkriva da su mogućnosti tela neogranične. Tokom moje karijere sarađivao sam sa Teatrom Mimart i Isidorom Stanišić, tako da nisam bio isključivo okrenut klasici.
Komisija Ministarstva kulture za oblast scenskog stvaralaštva i interpretacije - umetnička igra, ove godine dodelila je više od polovine ukupnih finansijskih sredstava Beogradskom festivalu igre. Od preostale polovine, skoro niko od samostalnih koreografa lokalne scene nije dobio sredstva za svoje autorske plesne produkcije. Kako ti vidiš situaciju na plesnoj sceni danas?
Razaranje baletsko-plesne scene u Srbiji je počelo mnogo ranije. Ovom sramotnom ovogodišnjom raspodelom budžetskih sredstava krenulo se samo u otvoreno uništavanje srpske kulture. Određene osobe su pokušale da se nađu u svetu umetnosti i kulture i nisu uspele jer nemaju predispozicije i talenat za bavljenje umetnošću i onda su prešle na plan B. Stvoriti prijatelje u krugovima koji odlučuju i na taj način sebe eksponirati u oblasti u koju su zalutali. Godinama su strpljivo radili na svom planu i danas se nalazimo tu gde smo. Infiltriranjem u institucije ti nadriumetnici danas hoće potpuno da uklone sve što vredi i ima talenta jer poštenom konkurencijom nemaju šanse. U nacionalnom Baletu vladaju haos i katastrofa. Nivo predstava nije ni amaterski. Na polju savremene igre sve što vredi guši se, uskraćuje se finansiranje, jer svaka kreativnost, umeće, istraživanje u bilo kojoj sferi umetnosti, za te nadriumetnike je najveći neprijatelj!
Kultura i kulturno nasleđe definišu jednu naciju. Izgleda da onima koji nisu sposobni da učestvuju u stvaranju tog nasleđa to najviše i smeta i radije promovišu tuđe kulturno nasleđe, našim parama.
video Kejv
https://vimeo.com/174785899
21.10.2016.
22.10.2016.
A review in biscuits
dispatches / batches from Kondenz Festival 2016,
responding to the line ‘give me a pickle, I’ll make you a cookie’
Firstly let me announce a few pre-conditions to your
reading. This writing is not for the people who attended. You all know how the room felt, how the sounds of the falling scurrying singing worlds communicated to your cells. How you shifted around in your seats. How you laughed.
No, this is for those of you who did not or could
not come to Kondenz (yet).
Secondly, I am British, so I make another translation
of cookies to biscuits. Even though there are differences in squidge and snap, and of course the overall premise of the line of the festival is to take something savoury or salty and make it sweet, regardless of texture, I’m indulging in biscuits for now.
Not the homemade ones; too wholesome, too ernest. No, I am a happy little capitalist who will consider the biscuits that come in boxes, with graphics and emotive design. I consider the industrial revolution of biscuit history in order to think more about commonalities
and unique differences, and contemporary performance.
21.10.2016.
Vrste / Species
Koncept i koreografija: Jovana Rakić
Dramaturgija: Marko Pejović
Izvođenje, tekst: Jana Milenković, Mina Kontić, Nataša Šmelc, Tamara Pjević
Svetlo i ton: Marko Milinković, Bojan Palikuća
Muzika: BCH
Muzika: BCH
fotografije: Maja Ven
Produkcija: Stanica Servis za savremeni ples
Podrška: Kulturni Centar Rex, Ministarstvo kulture i informisanja Republike Srbije i festival Van Okvira
Meritocracies do not allow for scurrying. You would
not stay on the floor to fly. This performance is a delicate and forceful, intelligent and dramaturgically snappy flow of tempos and textures. It asks me to mis-comprehend my internalised bodily knowledges. It toys with recognisable and evocative forms, making
pastiches and corroding dominant gestures. It is not immediately obvious what biscuit will make sense to do justice to this elegy. An elegy? To four living breathing pulsating creatures who are surely not at the edge of doom? In some ways it is an elegy for
the moments when choreography was split off from the techniques developed for and because of it, then canonised in conservatoires, taken from their contexts and made a discourse in their own right for the sake of tuning bodily knowledge and facility. But at
what cost? Some major confusion and alienation. What does an alienated biscuit look like?
The Custard Cream biscuit [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki
The Custard Cream biscuit, Species
22.10.2016.
Prezentatcija / Presentation
Levi Gonzales &
Mariana Valencia
Firstly, this was 2 guests to the festival, who spoke
together and separately, and shared solos with us.
I was thinking about loss, death and grief, because
the pieces alluded to some of those themes, and so the pieces asked me to think about that. So I think about the deeply important losses and the irreverent ones. Of course I start hunting for biscuits that are no longer available, though it is quite hard to
find decent lists [http://www.businessinsider.co
I’m now remembering encountering cherry coke for
the first time, and embarrassingly recall feeling like it was nectar. That’s the problem with nostalgia-led navigation: the senses help us time travel, and connect to the absolutely arbitrary. It would be too easy to go straight to the Oreo. Or even to a discussion
of the American savoury biscuit. These two pieces both explored time travel, one’s interconnected personal and not so personal histories/herstories. Rituals to help focus and to decentralise. Acts of love.
The Jammy Dodger [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki
The Jammy Dodger
Puzzle #2 presentation
Not so long after arriving in Belgrade, a friend
brought me a box of Plazma [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki
This performance was a younger generation of dance
artists from different schools and styles, coming together for a workshop to dip in, thrash out, test and pull. Plazma are produced by the company Bambi, this young foal reminding us that there is another generation coming through. And with this the inevitable
tension of repetition, memory and revisiting. Maybe they are repeating stuff you recognise but it’s new for them. You discover seeing your own discoveries, and playing with shared ownership of the tangible and intangible. It is a reminder that what is risky
for one person isn’t for another. Risk then is personal, individual, modulated. There is no factory for risk.
Plazma- Puzzle #2
23.10.2016.
SPECULATIONS OF AN ORDINARY SERBIAN NEOLIBERAL OX / RAZMIŠLJANJA JEDNOG OBIČNOG SRPSKOG NEOLIBERALNOG VOLADušan MurićBiscuit cutters. This is all that can be shared. The borders of meaning, severed so neatly. Drag excess across the floor. Doughy indecision: they pause and tread and ask others to pose and pause, too. Cabbages born of old narratives. Lists and lights and flashes and slashes. Sweat drips, as more biscuits are cut into the same form. Cut as many as you can before having to roll out again. Roll your table cloth up. Roll your weary banknotes. Roll your tongue around the plum stone. Alien nation brought forth in hollow jars. The only English used is an official-sounding text, extolling the virtues of capitalism. The rest? The languages of kinaesthetic bombastic force, folktale, lots of Serbian, and the language of entropy. I did not sit near someone helping translate. I’ll take from what I can perceive unfiltered, I am not in a panic of mis-comprehension of language. So what if I don’t know the words? How much does context matter? Why keep privileging spoken words at all if obfuscation is dearly demanded? I get to stare at the physicality of their speech and their listless or pained postures tell me all I needed to know, for now at least: Све док не схватим више.
LEPO VREME ZA OPERATIVNE SISTEMENICE WEATHER FOR OPERATIVE SYSTEMS /
Néstor GarcíaParty rings [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Party_ring ] were a product of the 1980s fashion for a newly developed chemical food dye system that enabled garish colours to be incorporated into the manufacture of biscuits. This made them a very popular choice for children's parties. The bright neon colours for these biscuits are now paler. Maybe we are living in post-food colouring; it’s not that we’re over changing colours, just that they need to appear less fake and more wholesome to appeal to certain parenting choices, in response to various horrors in general. A biscuit is still a biscuit, however much you sex it up or down. Garcia feels through his/our post-human time, with analogue staging of memes, bouncing gifs, sharply timed repetitions and digital visual rhythms. It is a somewhat inevitable attempt to deal with a new spatial depravity, where the fake appeals more than the fleshy, and there is a struggle to cope with ever-encouraged mobility. Losses of three dimensionality remind me that some sounds [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gsNaR6FRuO0 ] that would indicate one type of (im)patience are now lost to new ones. Party rings smack of sugary, trippy wonder, and a level of simplicity that could not imagine the the complex implications of cybernetics and hyperstition, and of sex toys objects with a similar name to the biscuits. Such is perhaps the important naivety in colourful aspiration. 1983: a special year for biscuits and computer technology.
party rings-nice weather for operative systems
24.10.2016.
Igor Koruga and Ana Dubljević
Samo Moje / Only mine alone
The Bourbon Biscuit is an eminently dunk-able one. It concerns
two layers of mild chocolate biscuit with chocolate cream in the middle. Two even little slabs of reassuring flavour, holding their own when they meet a cup of tea, absorbing, not really yielding. These will not succumb.
It has nothing to do with Bourbon whiskey, but is named after the French dynasty, the House of Bourbon [
]. Funny how some ruling elites should endure in name through a rather humble biscuit. Did the biscuit makers have self-aggrandising, associative tendencies? Probably; the company that produced them first also created the overblown Garibaldi biscuit. To shift
the name is to, partly, shift the relationship. Dubljević and Koruga explore a new wall: negative emotions can be bricks, held together with socially constructed cement. Negative emotions are no longer the preserve of the individual to pathologize and cauterize,
prioritizing individual responsibility to overcome them. Instead in this proposition, emotions are another materiality that repeat and recur, and need not be so terrifying. Repetition exposes them unrendered. With little sexy masonry to conceal them, they
- Koruga and Dubljević, their/our negative emotions, the choreography - do not yield to catharsis.
The Bourbon Biscuit, Only My Alone
25.10.2016.
Dragana Bulut
Return of the zombie, ep. 3
There are wafer biscuits that look like little fans, so that
if you arranged several of them they would form a circle. But they are more likely to end up in ice cream than in geometric satisfaction. They tell us that they are a conduit for something else, not the main event. A little airy even, as if trying to get away
with form alone. Use me, but don’t dwell on me. I’m not a macaron that needs a special box.
This episode of clever episodes opens like a fan, in overlapping
clicks, timed and slipping around a little axis. The zombies take several shapes. It is possible there are poltergeist here. Are we, in the audience, the necromancers, and Bulut and her fellows our Familiars for so many beautiful schisms and ruptures?
Shall I compare thee to a zombie day? The wafer replies, alright, if you must. I’ll disturb the continuity, unravel or get stuck on your
tongue. Do you dally by the edge? Do not concede. Keep opening and pouring forth the survival strategies, opening your mouth to let them out.
Waferfan- The Return of the zombie
26.10.2016.
Marco Milić
Kejv
Caves darkness can feel uniform, like shortbread. This biscuit
is crumbly but dense and the same all the way through. Shortbread is very buttery, and a little saccharine.
Caves unknown and unknowable qualities feel more like florentine biscuits. Veritable variety in a mouthful, tongue navigating itching textures. The roof of the mouth grazed in the snap, sharp fruit flavours amidst beige. So, infinite sameness or infinite difference. Incremental change or sparks?
There is plenty to look at in the arcs of muscles that fire and
rest. Breath and classical antiquity mingle with desire and some more breath. I am forced to filter many memories in the space allowed. The space pushes patience - between us and him, between his limbs, between his memories - and something expands and engulfs
in this. The loops collide and never fully extend.
Wanting and taking: sugar addiction flares the metabolism. This is shortbread not florentine. Something you must cook slowly and at a
low temperature to avoid burning.
This is not burning for purification. Burning would ruin here.
Shortbread, Kejv
Anna AF Sillén de Mesquita and Leandro Zappala
Beauty of accident
I discovered Ginger nuts could help alleviate car-sickness. Rather
than having to take a revolting pink tablet, I could now cope with journeys with the help of biscuits. I could get back to the simplicity of looking outside or feeling the light with my eyes closed on my face. I could more easily be transported and d nothing.
De Mequita and Zappala present a focussed world, yet open to
associations and individual narratives. The ropes, like the umbilical rivers, travel far without landing for long. What does such rotation sound like? How do you sense that moment when the task is fulfilled only to begin again? I learnt to feel no loss in
the exchange as I saw no end in their traversing. Their presence is anonymous, but not alienating.
As a wide coil of rope gradually exits the white space, I see
isobars that allow the borders to vanish.
Gingernut-Beauty of accident
Mala Kline
Eden
It seems reasonable that a biscuit that is suitable for both
rich alcoholic desserts and for teething children should span several countries and names. The American name for this ubiquitous biscuit is Lady Fingers, with an English version, Boudoir Biscuit. [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki
I allow a digression towards American English for this biscuit.
I think about the gendering of nouns in different languages. The cup is male, he lives in the cupboard. It it is so deeply normal for some, so deeply abnormal for others. Much like contemporary performance really; a space of acclimatising to that which we
know, and that which we don’t. Kline’s physicality becomes recognisable, she helps us see it through uncanny modulations that trace the impulses and connections over time. Maybe it is a bit discomfiting. Maybe her voice is more alarming.
This biscuit name points out a moment of Gendering of a Biscuit in a language that otherwise does not have such grammar. Whether grammar
structures really affect perceptions is not for discussion here. I speak from my own responses. Firstly, Lady Finger skirts towards euphemism and I am amused. Secondly, I am incredulous. It is presumptuous and problematic: that ladies fingers might be uniform,
slender, suckable without disintegration, and oh, pale. Thirdly, that there are Ladies at all, still tripping about with manicured talons, in costumes for social distinction. How easily Kline shifts, rocks into one voice after another, demanding I shift perspective
with her. But as I sit stiller and stiller, I sink below the earth instead. The innocent biscuit transcends borders above. I chew and suck but cannot swallow.
Ladyfingers- Eden