a solo for two women
the motif of the ‘doppelgaenger’ or look-alike is both irritating and fascinating at the same time: his appearance confounds the boundaries between oneself and others. the doppelgaenger questions concepts of similarity and difference, problematizes the subject and its identity.
«isson« is dedicated to contrasts, reality and illusion, light and shadows, restlessness and peace. two realities that cannot be separated. the dream is not the other reality, it glides over them both, illuminates or darkens them. shadows, a dark zone created by opaque bodies that refracts the rays of a light source. the obscurity contrasts with the light passing by.
every sad and dark thought is a fleeting and passing thought, a passing thought of fear. every disturbance of the soul, every black melancholy is an illusion.
»synchronicity indicates more than virtuosity, but rather the merging of two states of awareness. this meticulously composed decrescendo is one of the most moving, most enlightening final scenes that i’ve seen in dance theatre for quite some time.« (tagesspiegel, franz-anton cramer 2003)
a cie. toula limnaios production in co-production with the theater am halleschen ufer
»when schubert found his doppelganger /// a unision of movement is considered brilliant in dance. with the new choreography ›isson‹ toula limnaios and lena meierkord prove that synchronicity means much more than just diligent training: namely, the absolute harmony of two spheres, two bodies and beings (greek: isson). at the beginning the dancers stand before the back wall in the dull twilight of the empty stage, looking back: two identical figures on the white dance floor that will the next hour draw closer and closer towards the first row of spectators at the theater on halleschen ufer. with the exception of a few passages, they will move completely identically and will not leave their dance space. the distance between the two gets narrowed due to the darkly toned dynamics and the finely nuanced atmospheres of the choreography. synchronicity indicates more than virtuosity, but rather the merging of two states of awareness.
aus der klanglandschaft von ralf. r. ollertz schält sich zuletzt franz schuberts todesstarrer ›doppelgänger‹ heraus. das lied beschreibt mit tonloser dichte das haus der geliebten, in dem sie schon längst nicht mehr wohnt, das als hülle aber noch vom vergangenen glück kündet. derweil stehen limnaios und meierkord regungslos, ein wenig verzerrt, wie windschief und altersschwach da. wer bewohnt jetzt noch die bewegung? welches wesen haust im tanz. dieses auskomponierte decrescendo ist eines der berührendsten, einleuchtendsten schlussbilder im tanztheater, das seit langen zu sehen war.« (tagesspiegel, franz anton cramer, 2003)
»things are rarely what they seem, and a back isn’t just a back. it can be a wall, with shiny hair flowing over it like a waterfall. it can be a stage on which two hands perform a dance. or an armour that hides a vulnerable face. at the beginning of the duet ›isson‹ we see the choreographer toula limnaios and her partner lena meierkord from behind. the women in black, each in a square of light, find moving expressions for the unstable limbo in which the human being – ›isson‹ means in freek ›equal‹ – hangs lifelong.
toula limnaios strips everything down to the pure, unadorned movement and creates a form-conscious work, her most mature choreography so far. the almost frightening synchronicity of the dancers piques the spectator, who only on closer inspection finds two fundamentally different worlds: limnaios, the airy one, exudes herself, while meierkord stays with herself, more reserved. the rhythm of the composition in the empty space follows the trembling rashes of a soul that seeks orientation, yet mostly finds irritation. sometimes she composes herself, only to be torn away by her own hand in the next moment. in the end, inner peace lies in the conscious up and down between hope and depression, light and shadow. an outstanding little dance evening.« (berliner morgenpost, constanze klementz, 2003)
»when toula limnaios choreographs and especially when she dances, she radiates something rare, exquisite from the inside out. the greek-born choreographer has often been described as the painter of human minds. she herself calls her style ‘ a magical realism’. the limnaios’ pieces stroll on the frontier between day and dream, they indulge in scenes of opulent lights and colours, and flood subconscious longings, fears and visions onto a steadily meticulous sensual surface.« (berliner morgenpost, bm-live, constanze klementz, 2003)