 Texts Design Direction: Nakao Ikemiya Choreograph: Nakao Ikemiya@Noriko Kumagai Lighting Designer: Reiko Fukuda Sound Technician: Norimasa Ushikawa Stage Manager: Eiji Torakawa Assistant Director: Toshihiko Arimoto Company Manager: Shinobu Shimizu Yuko Uematsu PARFORMANCE RECORD 2002 Schauspielhaus, D_sseldorf "Standing on the brink" (premier) 2003 Spiral Hall, Tokyo "Standing -akai kami-" Ludwig Forum, Aachen Mu theatre, Budapest LENGTH: 70minutes DANCERS: Kazuo Kambayashi / Masato Kunieda / Natsuko Furutachi / Yoshimasa Kameda / Noriko Kumagai / Nakao Ikemiya  Part one A silent room at night. But where is it? An arrangement of scattered items dominate the surroundings. Looting? Some kind of fake scene? A thick layer of invisible dust is piled up, part of it facing towards us. Dancers emerge one by one and begin to move, holding something to their bodies. Their upper torsos repeatedly fold forward, arms flitting between legs and down their shins. Gradually the dancers' body movements become more intensely revealed, a powerful outpouring as if they are beating the hollow earth. Part two The scene begins with a solo, and develops through a duo and then a trio. A relentless, introspective will to dance discovers space, bodies, and music. Even though the dance is filled with despair, joy, and sorrow, a vivid hope is revealed. Can an individual really find a place to stand in this unfathomable world? Beethoven's ninth symphony, fourth movement. We and the world are moved by the structuredness of this music, by the breathtaking idea that all of it contains, and by its fluid beauty, In the last scene, the pulsating group, filled with loneliness, shatters the tranquillity.  "Listening with new ears" Nakao Ikemiya It has been one year since the first performance of this piece in Germany, and now that it is to be performed in Japan I am discovering countless new ways in which I want to express things. A tongue. That is to say, an advertising insert poking out from a newspaper. The way it sticks out from the paper makes it look like a tongue poking out from half opened lips. A tongue so perfectly like a forbidden kiss. An endlessly appealing kiss, whether in a wastepaper basket, or put out with the burnable trash. Or the recyclable trash. A brazen, distant, provocative kiss. A huge red kiss. Such an evocative, concealed sensation it will surely pierce our humanity to the very core. We have made this red paper our touchstone. Even if it wounds and brings us pain. This red paper brings forth the constant sound of friction, continuing even if it turns to ashes and dust. It knows no brinks or borders, and until touching people's eyes and hands and hearts it jangles rudely like a bell. Almost as if telling all things living free on earth to listen with new ears -- or in a metaphorical sense, to listen with all their might, with their entire bodies. My aim is to respectfully unfold the soul of this. Passed from person to person, taken in hand, a kiss walks in your palm.(August, 1st 2003) NRW-Feuilleton August 28,2002 EVA SCHMIDT (South German Newspaper) These Japanese dancers, known as the performance group Nomade~s, seemed indeed as though they were actual nomads, swept underground in some modern metropolies. The movement on stage made one think of how one's own fears and uncertainties lurk like monsters within us. In the first performance of "Standing on the brink", Beethoven's Ninth became almost a scream, with no hint of joy. |
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