(Extended) Fringe, Reviewed: Rosas Danst Rosas
"The extreme rhythmic repetition is such that you may be lulled into a hypnotic trance."
[ dance ]
Rosas Danst Rosas, by Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker/Rosas
Attended: Oct. 4, closed Oct. 5.
The seminal dance by Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker, one of the most influential choreographers of the past 30 years, Rosas danst Rosas was all about rhythmic complexity, stylized minimalism, fierce abstract feminism and choreographic rigor when it premiered in 1983.
Deeply repetitive, intentionally obtuse, and running two hours with no intermission, Rosas Danst Rosas is a challenging work any which way you look at it. There are four distinct sections. The first segment is performed in silence and not much happens: bodies fall to the floor, arms rise, limbs collapse, sighs are heaved. The silence may be a ploy to get you to concentrate on the slight nuanced behavior, or perhaps it's a tease to get you to anticipate that there must be something more than this to come.
And there is more in the ensuing sections, with four female dancers performing in militaristic unison, tossing their hair, sitting on chairs and standing/moving in lines while a minimalist metronomic percussive music score pounds on.
The scenes are abstract, though there are surely themes to be seen, if you want to go there, about feminism, individualism, the drudgery of the industrial state, and rebellion against modern and/or expressionist dance. The vibe is impersonal. The extreme rhythmic repetition is such that you may be lulled into a hypnotic trance, or even sleep (yes, I admit, the piece wooed me to doze off for a bit in the middle). You may also feel this is just plain mind-numbing. Each option is valid.
When it debuted in the early 1980s, Rosas Danst Rosas presented an austere pedestrian gesture-based movement style that is now a staple of post-modernism. Today, you can still be compelled by its compulsive abstract scenarios. Or, you may think, as did the person who sat next to me at the Saturday show, that Rosas is like a broken record that you're just too tired to get up and fix. Each option is valid.

