Like a virus needs a body
As soft tissue feeds on blood
Someday I'll find you, the urge is here
(Bjork, Like a virus)
The South Italian dance Pizzica, originally a wild dance to expel the deadly poison of a spider bite from the body, became the remedy against depression in times of poverty.
The Charleston arose during the interwar period as a reaction to the strict pre-war etiquette and marked the liberation from the constant fear of death caused by the First World War.
Blasphemy arose during the corona crisis.
The way we dance can never be completely separated from the way we live together. This is how dance and society intertwine. In fact, the power of dance works as a motor of change. What can we do to curb transience? Touch the divine or devour the earthly, keep your distance or hug each other to death?
Silence before the storm.
We spread our wings. Daftpunk's pop song Around the World echoes from the boxes. The first gust of wind sets us in motion. We want to go up but our feet remain firmly anchored in the ground. Blasphemy unravels itself into a danced ritual in which certainties are sacrificed. A call to embrace the mobility of life. A ceremony in which the down to earth reality nestles in holiness.
Like cursing in church, Blasphemy arose, with appropriate distance and from a pressing need for creation. This time not in a studio but in their 'holy' home space, the dancers worked on a solo based on the swaying structured footwork of the Charleston and the ecstatic dance of the southern Italian dance Pizzica. In online connection with Emio Greco | Pieter C. Scholten, they toiled their way ruthlessly, along benches and under tables, using the power of dance to take the measure of the walls and push their limits.
Together with the performances Dissapearance and Shameless, Blasphemy announces the start of a new period in which Greco and Scholten surrender to the rücksichtsloos idealism with the mobility of life as the overarching motif.