‘Costume Exile’[1]
A choreography by Juliana Atuesta[2]
This is a brief analysis of Juliana Atuesta’s choreography ‘Costume Exile’ (2009), an analysis informed by Hans Thies Lehmann’s description of the turn towards the post-dramatic theater[3]and by what Thomasz Toporisic, in writing about the performative turn of the 1960’s, where he makes a direct reference to Lehmann, has to say about the various techniques employed in this turn, namely, ‘excessive repetition, sampling, quotations and misquotations of various texts and discourses, meta-theatrical references’[4]. Given the length of this writing, only excessive repetition will be investigated in an attempt to demonstrate that the way Atuesta makes use of it compositionally strongly points towards the post-dramatic.
‘Costume Exile’ begins with a screening of what appears to be the credits shown at the end of a film, the many names and titles of all involved in the making of it.The monitor in which the credits are presented is small, so that the audience can not properly read the text, and in this (in)capacity any meaning or reference to any thing specific disappears. For someone sitting at the back of the theater what appears is an avalanche of words repeating themselves, scrolling down the screen at a regular tempo. This lasts for approximately 6 long minutes. No body, no sound, hardly anything to see, only a quasi-empty space filled with potential, questions and expectation.
Lights go off the monitor and focus on a couple sitting side by side at the other side of the stage. A man and a woman dressed in everyday clothes. Nothing other than sitting happens for a while until they begin to move, at which point the music comes in. The woman makes very small movements with her spine, hardly perceptible. The man observes. Gradually, as her movements become more visible (she adjusts her clothes, as if in front of a mirror, in a rhythmically precise and meticulous manner) he visually and physically relates to her . Time by just looking at her, time by either helping or disturbing her activity of adjusting her clothes. This is systematically repeated several times until she gets off the chair and moves towards center down stage where she repeats the male dancer’s actions , on and with her, in a magnified manner. As she does it, she looks at the audience (the mirror?). He comes to join her. They engage in a duet where the material they had danced on the chairs is repeated, but this time in a simulated, ‘as if’ mode. This is intensified and at the end they return to their chairs. A short while after that he stands up and directly addresses the audience by saying: ‘This piece is about….”. Lights go off.
Lights come back on, but this time center upstage illuminating another couple sitting also side by side and dressed equally in everyday clothes. They repeat the very same structure as the first couple, only with slight idiosyncratic differences. It looks like we are seeing a ‘performance of the performance’ and one realises rather quickly that this is precisely what is happening. In this way, repetition becomes prominent by taking place on several levels: on the level of the moment-to-moment, on the level of the construction of the sections of the piece, on the level of the performance itself as a whole and notably on the level of the re-utterance of the affirmation-question directly addressed to the audience, i.e., ‘This piece is about…..’. At the end of the second duet, all four dancers come together. The dancers of the second duet sit on the laps of the dancers of the first duet where yet again the structure of the piece is repeated, this time in a condensed, shortened version, where the actual saying of the words ‘this piece is about…’ is ‘musicalized’ and deconstructed into a light, humorous, non-sensical conversation.
The insistence in ‘Costume Exile’ on repeating, reiterating the materiality of the body, on its partially finished movement gestures and words, its use of paronomasia[5], frontally asks (or forces) the audience to become an active agent in the ‘cracking’ of the code provided by the performance. First by distance and estrangement (what is it?) then by sheer recognition (was it that simple?). This leads one to think that Atuesta’s piece, in how it deliberately employs repetition, and in how it makes the audience first reflect and then relax, falls under the umbrella of the post-dramatic, even though one could argue that the predictability inherent to the way in which repetition was structurally used could also generate in the audience a degree of absorption, immersion, which in turn could be interpreted as pointing towards the dramatic: one momentarily forgets that one has actually had to work, to actively and creatively make a memory present.
[1] Piece made by Juliana Atuesta within the frame of the ArtEZ Master in Choreography Program Dance Unlimited. Danced by Joyce Brussee, Dirk Jeukens, Liat Gabay, Patrick Radu; Music by Cesar Diaz; Light by Egbert Mellema and Photo by Diego Contreras.
Performance seen on May the 20th 2009 in Arnhem, at ArtEZ Theater 1.
[2] Juliana Atuesta is a Colombian choreographer and historian
[3] Lehmann, Hans Thies, Post Dramatic Theater, trans. by K. Jurs-Munby, London: Routledge, 2006
[4] Toporisic, Thomasz, in Traces of the Performative Turn, http://ttoporisic.googlepages.com/tracesoftheperformativeturn (accessed on September 30th 2009)
[5] a play of words, a pun. Andre Lepecki, in writing about the ‘slower ontology’ present in Jerome Bel’s work mentions paronomasia as one of the fundamental characterizing features of Bel’s critique on and assessment of representation. Lepecki, Andre, Exhausting Dance, Routledge, 2006 pp. 45-64




