Meg Stuart's two-hour heroic epic Until Our Hearts Stop, showing at the Rotterdam Schouwburg this week, does not engage in dramatic construction according to the rules of Aristotle's Poetics. We don't know who those people are there on stage. Nor do they seem to have been given any special assignment, although they are clearly driven by desire for physical contact. The purple carpets, the sofa and the huge, wondrous ceiling recall lobbies like you ...
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