Upon entering the Transformatorhuis on Amsterdam's Westergasterrein, we are blinded by a row of bright lights on the floor. A low tone produces a kind of pleasant unease, a sound of possibility. Then the light goes out and we are in pitch darkness, red half-moons from staring into the lamps still burnt on our retinas. The tone persists but feels slightly more menacing, as in the dark everything feels more menacing, perhaps. In tiny glimpses of light, we see movement. But am I seeing what I'm seeing, or are my eyes playing with me? I feel how my eyes have to work hard, how they open as wide as possible to detect small changes in the big black nothingness.
On darkness and hope
Choreographer Arno Schuitemaker took the book Chrome by artist, filmmaker and writer Derek Jarman as one of the draws for 30 Appearances out of darkness. In the book, Jarman writes "Is black hopeless? Doesn't every dark thundercloud have a silver lining? In darkness lies the possibility of hope."
"It made me want to think about the meaning of this paradox, and how it defines us and can benefit us. Why do we sometimes fear what we desire most? It's a question I can't let go of. I want to be less afraid. Maybe we can find relief by disappearing into the dark, if only to come out the other side."
I get to go up in the dark, feel it, feel my own physical reactions. The theatre is a safe place and the festival has already warned me about the strobe. Nothing can go wrong. So I don't feel fear, only a pleasant kind of excitement, the feeling of experiencing something special. My senses are stimulated and I have to think about what I want to see. Is it frustrating, stimulating, interesting, aesthetic that I cannot see everything and cannot rely on my eyes? What happens when you manipulate the most intrinsic value of theatre, the ability to see? You start feeling, smelling, listening, thinking. What a delight.
Anonymity as comfort
The sound becomes my grip. Around the pillars of theatre curtain, shadows move. Because it is so dark, it is not clear where one body ends and another begins. It is dark for the dancers too, They probe the space, wide arm gestures, but with shoulders raised it seems. They have to conquer the space, free themselves from the darkness, with their naked vulnerable bodies.
The dancers disappear and appear in the dark, but are on the floor the whole time. Even when you don't see them, you feel the performers' energy. The lighting plan does not allow us to see faces, we see silhouettes, sometimes so sharp we can see the hairs on their shoulders. The reassuring anonymity of the night, where the very invisibility makes it possible to feel free. The same goes for the spectators, in our anonymity we can also disappear into the dark, feel and experience what it does to us. 30 Appearances plays with our perception. I know there are more dancers than I can see, and sometimes the light and shadows make the dancers suddenly seem superhuman.
Perfect interplay between movement, sound and light
Aart Strootman's composition deepens, evolving into a complex soundscape reminiscent at times of science-fiction films. There is danger in the darkness. Then again, it is reminiscent of an abstract rave with a pulsating beat, the liberation of the night. Jean Kalman's lighting design also moves from intense darkness to light, but never becomes linear or unambiguous. Movement, light and sound engage in a perfect dialogue, the interpretation of which is left to the viewer. I have been in a dark forest, on a mountain in a thunderstorm, in a club, in a desolate industrial environment. Darkness is comfort, safety, threat, force of nature.
Gradually, more light and air enter the performance. It even seems that the intense smell of tar diminishes slightly. The movements become looser and freer, the darkness is appropriated, conquered. The breaking point in the performance is the moment when and voice breaks through the instrumental score. The ultimate humanity of a voice and a body moved me. The mood turns from dark to ecstatic and free. That silver lining around every cloud Arno Schuitemaker gives you here to go into the night with. I did indeed experience something special.