The new project called Faith, covered by the Tantehorse company, is the result of collaboration between Miřenka Čechová and Andrea Miltnerová. It tries to give an insight into the fragile world of female dancers. In one of her previous works, S/He is Nancy Joe, Čechová proved she was not afraid of controversial topics. Boldly and in a conscienceless way, she tackled the issue of gender transformation – searching for lost identity in an estranged body which has its own desires, wishes and fears that the inner feelings might come true.
In S/He is Nancy Joe, Miřenka Čechová’s very physicality was disturbing – when she was standing still, she looked like a man, but in movement she became feminine – smooth, graceful, almost cat-like, her arms flowing gently and her feet stepping softly. She employed a wide range of dynamic changes which were in perfect accord with the video projection. You could sense intensively the physical and mental ambivalence she was struggling with – her own body turned into a battlefield, a revolting body which longed to be someone else. Čechová experienced her body’s rebellion with freezing authenticity. The performance included well-elaborated details, its preciseness and originality had been appreciated by The Washington Post which had listed the piece among the best productions of 2012 in the category Best of Dance.
In Faith, Miřenka Čechová deals again with a difficult topic. She uncovers the inner, bitter doubts – this time those of a dancer. She found her source of inspiration in the personality of Taťána Juřicová, former prima ballerina of the Prague National Theatre. Čechová was her student at the Prague dance conservatory and she was deeply touched by Juřicová’s suicide in 2002. Čechová recognises some parallels between the tragic fate of her teacher and her own experiences. For those who are not familiar with Juřicová’s career, there is an account of her roles and awards in the programme. I remember Taťána Juřicová as an active dancer, her stage presence and appearance were unique. Because of her height, she never really merged in the ballet ensemble and her performances as well as expression were particularly soulful. There is no wonder that Čechová still keeps a vivid memory of this exceptional woman in her mind and that she made her the key subject of the new production. The title Faith offers several different interpretations - probably intended by the authors - as it can stand for faith, trust, credo, sincerity, honesty, assurance, intention or will. These notions are sought after, found and lost by the two performers throughout the piece.
Poignant Existence of Bodies
From the very first moment, it is evident that Čechová, as a choreographer and performer, decided to unlock her “thirteenth chamber”. In the programme, she publishes some fragments of her long-secret diary; among others, she writes about her anxieties: about pulse, timidity, fat, belly, nails, guilt, blood and scream. With her back turned to the audience, dressed in striped black and white anorak and white pants, she moves on the white ballet floor and against white tilts projected in the backdrop. We can hear street sounds while the dancer finds herself in a purely white, sterile world, detached from reality. She seems like a prisoner trapped in her own body and mind and through the air, the words go: This is not the story of Taťána Juřicová, who committed suicide; this is my confession to prevent me from doing the same thing...
Plain white tilts crack and turn into harsher structures. Čechová takes off her clothes; she has nothing on but the underwear and looks even more vulnerable. She’s slowly lifting her arms and begins to touch her body, pointedly, as if checking its poignant existence. Her jerky movements alternate with violent falls. And just as she is lying on the floor, her body releases, relaxes and it could even fly up like the fallen leaves on the background screen.
Right beside her, in the left corner of the stage, an obscure space is coming out of the darkness; on a black shelf we can see the inert body of the other dancer. She slowly starts to explore the space with her feet and collapses again to the floor, resembling a puppet in an oversized tulle ballet skirt. She pushes with her elbows and slides her entire body forwards while her other “self” – Miřenka Čechová – moves backwards in the same position. Miltnerová is a ballerina, she stands at the barre, repeats obediently her port de bras and counts. The toilsome one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight continues till the dancer faints from exhaustion. The ballerina moves mechanically, from pose to pose, collapses frequently and ends up in an awkward position. It is difficult to overcome the spasm-like feeling and to rotate a large balance beam. At that point, Čechová steps out into the obscure space and holds the opposite end of the beam. The two performers walk around (the action is too lengthy though), several times they fall and stay lying, onto the “beam” or underneath, only to rise again and carry on.
In Search of the Lost Balance
Back in her white refuge, Čechová is searching unceasingly for some moments of liberation; yet she cannot yield the free flowing movement. She stays like sealed and petrified in her arabesques, port de bras and as she runs across the stage on demi points, making all her efforts to be a good ballerina; but she is casting a tottering shadow on the background, so sad and sombre.
Čechová is lying on the floor and Miltnerová is resting on the shelf where she has returned in the meantime. Short synchronic and frenetic passages take place in which the dancers’ hands are lightly touching their heads, torsos, elbows and stomachs - naming the body parts aloud in English.
Two parallel worlds coexist on the stage - the real world of an artist dominated by daily drill and together with the world of hard-to-be-grasped inner sadness, a space full of doubts and vain search of lost balance. Čechová uses sharp movement contrasts, slow moves accelerate abruptly, the dancer is confused, walks on four legs like a frightened animal, twitching, crawling ploddingly. She is unable to get rid of her stiffness and to stand still, her knees are buckling all the time. She becomes a prisoner in her own body she cannot escape from. Or it was Taťána Juřicová who could not....And swaying grass transforms into dry moss. The two performers are standing with their backs turned to the audience, Miltnerová’s torn tutu looking like a faded flower. We can see swaying curtains, too, and hear the street sounds again, the same as at the beginning, along with a voice enumerating Juřicová’s roles. All of a sudden, the darkness falls over the stage. It’s over...
For many viewers, Faith opened, still only guessed, hardships of dancers’ career and it evoked Taťána Juřicová’s sad story. Miřenka Čechová backed up her evidence with an expressive visual argumentation which sometimes pushed the dance aside into down-the-line positions. At some points, her body fused with the sequenced images and became a part of the given instance. However, it only happened for a short while and the mixture of movement and film material did not encourage any further dance-optical configurations.
Miřenka Čechová and Andrea Miltnerová prepared a visually sophisticated work. To deal with such a delicate, painful topic for one hour of running time can be tricky. It is difficult to hold the attention of the audience and make them understand the repetitive movements and focus on the feelings captured through physical experience. Not everybody is willing to be carried away be the despair conveyed by the two women artists. It would be a little naive and pathetic to put up with the fact that dancers suffer all the time. They can also live through some happy moments, have their dreams, and we can only hope that besides discipline they find faith and joy in what they do, as well as the above mentioned performers/choreographers.
Written from the premiere held on 17 February 2014, the Ponec Theatre.
FaithConcept, direction and video: Miřenka Čechová
Choreography: Miřenka Čechová, Andrea Miltnerová
Performers: Miřenka Čechová, Andrea Miltnerová
Music: Bohren und der Club of Gore
Sound design: Matouš Hekela
Light design: Martin Špetlík
Sets: Tantehorse
Costumes: Judy Hansen
Premiere: 17. 2. 2014 Translation: Tereza Cigánková
Josef Bartos
Thank you for your thoughts. One got stuck in my mind – that passion makes us different from AI. Just yesterday I read…I am a dance critic. I am a member of an endangered species