‘Me, Myself & I’, by Claudia Brufau

Despite the actual cold temperature, a warm atmosphere dwells amongst the columns inhabiting the brick stone hall. Sitting on the floor or standing at both sides of the room, the onlookers wait for the first soloist to appear. “Me, Myself & I” is a presentation of ideas to develop solos, in which the dancers step casually in and out, each one offering a brief performance.

Almost camouflaged within the brick stone walls, Verónica Garzón dressed in a salmon outfit walks solemnly while staring suspiciously at the audience. In Panopticon, her movements are slow and angular, as if she had emerged from the bricks. Verónica Garzón’s performance is more of a raw exercise of the self, rather than a short solo with a choreographic or corporeal proposal. In contrast to the solemn presence of Brown, Lara Brown brings a playful attitude to Ser devenir. Her hips, legs and ribcage move in restless loops. You might end up wondering whether this dancer in dark skinny jeans is an abstraction of a teenager with a punk vibe. A cellphone ring makes her sneak away.

Another dancer appears as if she were emerging from the walls or columns of this space. In 1’28”, Raquel Klein starts bending her body as if she were folded skin, but little by little her limbs and spine become liquid. Klein takes on an impossible quest, she fails to find balance but engages in a beautiful exercise of corporeality under subtle sound effects. With some of Klein’s movement poetry still left in the air, Oihan Indart sketches sensual movements in Soy Fauno, an update of Nijinsky’s faun for the 21st century. Breathing spirals are the main ingredients of this solo performed in silence. If there’s some pleasure, it gets stuck in the dancers inner self rather than passing on the exuberance of Debussy’s music – which sounds, for a brief moment, as if it had been there all time.

Full of herself, Melodie Cecchini breaks the overall daydreaming mood in ¡Ponte recto!, a parody of being in front of an audience. She draws in a couple of members of the audience, she poses for the photographer. Basically, she laughs at the whole mechanism of the ritual set for the succession of solos. You may be more or less amused – the performer is too transparent and to keen to deliver the easiest joke –but you’ll at least be thankful that she has brought in another mood to “Me, Myself & I”. All in all, there is a worrying lack of use of music and rhythm in these five solo projects – perhaps because these are not yet even works in progress, but presentations of ideas; a mere hint of what they might become. Still, you can’t help but wonder why most contemporary dancers’ presence is so drenched with an intense but bland gaze that seems symptomatic of an attitude of “me locked in myself.”

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