schrit_tmacher justdance! specials:

Miracles are possible

Hymn to humanity: The community art project ‘Simurgh’ by the Dutch DIK Danstheater moves us to tears

By: Harff-Peter Schönherr

In the world of mysticism, anything is possible. Even the search for a wise king of supernatural powers, at the end of which the seekers realise that they themselves are this king.

We find ourselves in the Persian poetry of the 12th century, with Farid ud-Din Attar and his ‘Conference of the Birds’. Thousands of them set off on this quest, in search of Simurgh, the wisest of all birds, the bird of happiness, on a journey through inhospitality and rugged valleys, and 30 of them persevere. But these 30 do not find a mythical creature, awe-inspiring and strange, they find knowledge, truth and perfection. And they find all this in themselves. Simurgh, they realise, is the community of all.

The Dutch DIK Danstheater’s inclusion and community art project ‘Simurgh’ borrows its basic idea from this symbol-laden, eye-opening, psychologised Sufism legend: the search for humanity, for togetherness.

Choreographer Jordy Dik sets out 30 performers, and if you want to understand what they encourage us to seek and find, you don’t need to know anything about Sufism, about Attar and ancient Persia. Everything is revealed to us so directly, almost as a matter of course, that it seems as if a small miracle is taking place here.

Simurgh_DIKdanstheater©TANZweb.org_Klaus-Dilger

Simurgh_DIKdanstheater©TANZweb.org_Klaus-Dilger

‘Simurgh’ does not illustrate the “Conference of the Birds”, and that is a good thing. What Dik’s 30 travellers of knowledge show us is entirely in the here and now. The fact that his ensemble could not be more diverse, from age to skin colour, that budding stage professionals join amateurs, people with disabilities with people without, is a beautiful, worthy reflection of the diversity of life. And the fact that ‘Simurgh’, in all its life-affirming passion and appealing energy, in all its subtlety and hopefulness, was created in just four and a half days of improvisation, in the week of the premiere, is the second miracle of the evening.

The third occurs as soon as the lights go out: images of deep, poetic magic unfold before us. The 30 travellers let white feathers float, and there is no one in the auditorium who does not see in them at this moment the 30 birds who find what they are looking for in the end. Trance-like harp sounds begin. A single singing voice becomes many. A speaker encourages us that life is beautiful. He does so emphatically, with unplayed conviction.

Simurgh_DIKdanstheater©TANZweb.org_Klaus-Dilger

Simurgh_DIKdanstheater©TANZweb.org_Klaus-Dilger

Someone counts to 30, and all 30 travellers face us. And then a whirl of joy begins. A dance of all forms, all with all. Joy becomes pain, because that is also part of life, part of our search for ourselves. Pain is followed by relief. Relief is followed by laughter. Laughter is followed by thoughtfulness.

Sure, not all performers have mastered contemporary dance, not all are articulate, not all have voices capable of solo performance. But that doesn’t matter. They are on a mission. And they accomplish it brilliantly. You can see virtuosity everywhere. Authenticity like this is a gem.

Drums and trumpet, electric bass, saxophone and trombone build up to powerful, driving, light-hearted rhythms. In between, elegiac flute. In between spherical violin. In between birdsong. In between gloomy dissonance, because there is no existence that lacks it. It’s electrifying.

Dancers switch to instruments, to singing, back to dancing. Everyone is everywhere. Everyone is attentive to everyone. Everyone rejoices in the joy of others, worries about their worries. Everything intermingles with everything else, even the language: Dutch can be heard, German, English, almost universally.

Everything radiates positivity, abundance, soulfulness. A quick caress here, a firm hug there. People carry each other, support each other, catch each other. Anyone who thinks this is naive has no heart. It’s beautiful, warm-hearted. And it doesn’t matter: it couldn’t be more genuine, more moving, more unaffected. A hymn to humanity.

Simurgh_DIKdanstheater©TANZweb.org_Klaus-Dilger

Simurgh_DIKdanstheater©TANZweb.org_Klaus-Dilger

Words burn themselves into the memory. Words like: ‘She doesn’t speak with her mouth, but with her eyes!’ Words like: ‘People are wonderful!’ Words like: ‘What do the stones whisper?’ Words like: ‘Tell me what life wants!’ Words like: ‘I dance above the clouds!’ Words like: ‘People can be artists!’ Words like: ‘I am many things!’

30 birds. 30 people. For the 30th edition of ‘schrit_tmacher’. It couldn’t be more fitting.

And then, the 50 minutes of ‘Simurgh’ have passed like a single, balmy breath, dancers run up into the rows of the audience. Someone shouts loudly: ‘Come on stage if you want!’ And the audience, who had been clapping along beforehand, humming and laughing along unreservedly, with shining eyes, amazed at their own emotion, wants to. Dozens stream forward. Whirling along in this dance of life. Some have tears of happiness in their eyes.

At the end, the 30 sit opposite the audience and Dik tells them who is who and what they have done to prevent them from being only 28. And anyone who wants to can say how they feel. An audience member says she is taking ‘a treasure’ home with her. Dik says: ‘I hope I see you again, somewhere in the world.’ Then the miracle is over.

Simurgh_DIKdanstheater©TANZweb.org_Klaus-Dilger

Simurgh_DIKdanstheater©TANZweb.org_Klaus-Dilger