fiction in motion for three women
a kaleidoscope of three solo pieces which, viewed in the mirror, appear as an inverted image. soli, which do not meet but rather co-exist. in them, the realities and dreams of these women mix, unite, multiply and separate.
»three typecast women dance the inner states in rather oppressive solos. one – a dream figure. other two form a kind of centaur, which laboriously makes its way through the tenacity of time. with their hair-covered faces or their bodies wrapped in a coat, these bizarre beings are desperately looking for answers to their questions of life, yearning to leave their own skin.«
»faits d’hiver« is composed like a kaleidoscope of the inner universe of three women, each of them with a different fate, crossing the gates of dreams to visit the land of the last things.

»these are the last things. one after another, they pass and do not come back.« (paul auster, »in the country of the last things«)

nightmares made of wax, in which the time turns its eyes away, vertigo of the depths in which the concepts of speed and slowness reflect our everyday life in a strange way.

»the golden palm of the solo-duo festival goes to greece. toula limnaios would have earnt it for her piece ›faits d’hiver‹ anyway. sixty minutes of intensive exertion with nothing more than the dancing body in a black stage set, equally commendably illuminated by franco marri combining to create the most atmospherically cohesive dance event of recent times.« (berliner morgenpost, volkmar draeger, 1999)

production cie. toula limnaios, kindly supported by the e-studio of the academy of the arts.
guest performances: brussels, bytom, bonn

resumption in 2000 dance: toula limnaios, monica munoz marin, evelin stadler

concept/choreography

toula limnaios

music

ralf r. ollertz

dance/creation

eve neeracher, toula limnaios, isabelle schad

lightdesign

franco marri, michel delvigne (light direction)

reviews

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»a lonely climax /// a choreographic kaleidoscope that keeps every spectator breathless for an hour, and at the same time a dance of death somewhat reminiscent of james ensor. For if only the outer shell dances, nothing of a body under the black curtain is apparent, the wooden hand pushed out under the sleeve as if it were a phantom: an eerie moment one doesn’t tend to forget.
toula limnaios has already proved her talent with ›le temps d’après‹ and ›entrevisions‹, and with ›faits d’hiver‹, a lonely climax at the berlin solo-duo festival, she proves her mastery.« (ballet tanz international, hartmut regitz, 1999)

»screams from the depths of the soul. /// the golden palm of the solo-duo festival at the theater am halleschen ufergoes to greece. toula limnaios would have earnt it for her piece ›faits d’hiver‹ anyway. sixty minutes of intensive exertion with nothing more than the dancing body in a black stage set, equally commendably illuminated by franco marri combining to create the most atmospherically cohesive dance event of recent times. straight away it catapulted the young choreographer with her full-length piece of work into the ranks among the aspiring artists of the berlin scene.

however, things are not exactly hopeful on stage. three well-typed women (toula limnaios, isabelle schad, eve neeracher) dance the inner states in rather oppressive solos. one – a dream figure. other two form a kind of centaur, which laboriously makes its way through the tenacity of time. with their hair-covered faces or their bodies wrapped in a coat, these bizarre beings are desperately looking for answers to their questions of life, yearning to leave their own skin. contacts are not established. loneliness rules the scene, water splashes, voices whisper. as william blake’s poetry is mysterious, so is this sequence of images of the darkness of being.
it often contains heated dancing, for example the volcanic eruption of isabelle schad with her storm of maddeningly knotted movements. it is only at the end that the individualists seek together to form a trio. after rapid dives, they remain in a circle, with the head raised sniffing the air.« (berliner morgenpost, volkmar draeger, 1999)