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Good God," he mutters in No more teeth out. Haven't had a Dexedrine for months". The last third of the novel gathers a certain pace from its memento mori. The disadvantage of the journal form is its plotlessness. The narrator cannot see the overall shape of his own story. At one point the novel tantalises us with a far-fetched plot. Mysteriously betrayed on a wartime mission, he wonders whether it has something to do with the Duke and Duchess of Windsor the former Edward VIII and Mrs Simpson , with whom Mountstuart has fallen out earlier in the novel. There is no way of knowing. Doors open at 6.

To reserve a ticket call or email book. Topics William Boyd Book club. Reuse this content. This is true freedom. In taking on classical music warhorses, choreographer Meg Stuart has created a theatrical experience equally epic. Sprawling across two hours, Built to Last throws stones at monuments to the past, questioning our tacit relationship with bombastic expressions of heroism and ultimately presents an uplifting affirmation of the human spirit.

Fourteen excerpts are used as metaphors for historical narrative.

Notes to self

Stuart questions how this music can be appropriated and given an immovable mythical status, even though our perceptions of history constantly change. This is the tension underpinning the entire performance: how does the individual interact with prescribed versions of history? The overall effect is complemented with energetic and pitch-perfect performances by the five performers, that include Maria F Scaroni and Dragana Bulut.

First, the body. It begins to sway. Then the hand, seeking simple gestures, clenching and unclenching. Next the arm, extended, bending, seeking shape and form. The urge gradually brings all parts of the body to movement and from there to motion. Set against an electronic soundscape, five performers relentlessly seek, find and are frustrated by patterns, culminating in a cacophony of movement and sound before one of the performers quietly brings the others to a halt before turning to nervously address the audience.

So begins Built to Last, by renowned choreographer, Meg Stuart, making her Irish debut and kicking off the Dublin Dance Festival with an excellent production that sets the bar high. When describing itself as a history of dance, Built to Last does itself a great disservice. For it speaks not just to the history of dance, but to the making of dance, to the need of the body to give expression, with or without music. Of an insatiable urge that can find momentarily release in forms and patterns, none ever big enough to accommodate all that needs to be expressed. At times fleetingly recognisable moments appear, tender tableaux temporarily take shape before passing away in the search for newer forms.

At other times it appears as if the lunatics have taken over the asylum as the struggle to find shape grapples with restrictions and the need for form. If all is shifting, what never changes is the striving for expression, the endless searching, the body constantly reaching out to catch the stars and channel all that heaven will allow. Self-consciously self-deprecating at times, it never ceases to engage, despite its uninterrupted two hours in length. Scaroni and Kristof Van Boven give a delightful ensemble performance, as well as creating exquisite individual moments.


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The only thing to do is surrender to it. If dance forms aren't built to last, dance surely will as evidenced by this charming, insightful and, at times, sublime production. A must see. Sie beschnuppern sich gegenseitig, kitzeln die nackte Haut der Partner. Egal ob Mann oder Frau. Doch Voyeure kommen in diesen pausenlosen zwei Stunden nur selten auf ihre Kosten. Dass das jemand macht, beweist, wie Meg Stuart das Publikum zu lockeren Partnern gemacht hat.

Aber auch zu dritt bekommen die Musiker um Bassist Paul Lemp, der schon lange mit Stuart zusammenarbeitet, einen fetten Sound hin, der dem massiven Klang einer Big Band um nichts nachsteht. Erst in Zweierkonstellationen, dann als Gruppe.

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Die Musik nimmt Fahrt auf, die Bewegungen werden schneller. Dann kehrt Stille ein.

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So nahe kommt einem Theater selten. Die Grenzen des Wahrscheinlichen dank Zaubereinlagen. Auch Schamgrenzen. Scaroni nackt. Die Messlatte liegt hoch. Beim Saisonendspurt geht es dabei Schlag auf Schlag. Erst am Tantra- und Hypnose-Workshops bzw.

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Das ist gut so! Three women and three men build towers and bridges with their bodies. In groups of three or four, they twist and entangle their bodies. All this is not new. The nose gets a run for its money; its urge to explore does not stop at the pubic border. Irony, parody, comedy and genuine feelings are mingled together in this sensuous composition of body images, that Meg Stuart is now presenting at PACT Zollverein as part of the Ruhrtriennale. But this piece, which goes on for two hours without a break, has nothing to do with voyeurism.

Carelessly and naive, they run free, rub each other and throw each other around. Some of them frequently comment their own actions. The way Meg Stuart engages the audience without making it feel uncomfortable is extraordinary.

In a fully lit theatre, the spectators receive water, fruit and cake. They are offered clay to give their hand muscles a work out as the piece continues.

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Unrestrained, the performers talk to visitors, spray cologne or open their shirt and ask spectators to smell their sweat. The fact that they are willing to do so proves that Meg Stuart has succeeded in making the audience become a licentious partner in crime. Until Our Hearts Stop marks a fresh step in the research that the choreographer Meg Stuart has been engaged in for more than two decades. She tirelessly attempts to pin down the strange interplay between what we feel physically and what we experience mentally, and in so doing, she rarely leaves the viewer unmoved.

More and more, it is about experiments in which not only the performers, but also the spectators have a role to play. She regularly confronts viewers head on with the inherent difficulties of the human condition, which can leave them confused. In Highway , for example, she dragged the spectators through a building, before unexpectedly abandoning them to weirdos who went on to indulge in some embarrassing rants.

People often had no idea how to behave. All Together Now tore up theatrical conventions still further.


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It began with the audience being packed into a space that was far too small, while a voice expressed disgust at the ensuing sweat and odours. It ended with a feel-good session in which everyone was entreated to hold hands. Some felt that they could have died of embarrassment. But as ever, this is precisely her point: why do we hate it so much when other people come too close to us?

Why do we long for others, yet bolt if someone comes closer? What can we tolereate from one another, and what not? This is endlessly fascinating to watch, as Stuart always manages to find fresh ways of exploring this theme, and never fails to unsettle. The piece wrong-foots you to such as extent that at a certain point half way through, you barely know whether you are coming or going. To the overpowering jazzy sounds of the trio Samuel Halscheidt, Marc Lohr and Stefan Rusconi, the six performers have already groped, stalked and made use of one another in every conceivable way.

It all begins with a strange yoga session, followed by an equally strange acrobatics exercise. After this, all six performers plonk themselves down on a sofa together. Whether out of boredom or embarrassment, they pick at one another until they are rolling over the floor in a knot of bodies.

Two men become embroiled in a dogfight. Two women separate them, before immediately going on to attack one another with equal savagery - and stark naked - before winding up in an intimate embrace. The fourth wall is breached An hour of these edgy, absurd scenes culminates in a synchronous dance comprised of incomprehensible signals. Just as you have almost given up trying to understand it, the mood shifts. The spectators are suddenly involved in the action, whether they like it or not.

The performers offer drinks and presents, sing birthday songs or stage a variety show. The performance then takes a magical turn, both literally and figuratively, with conjuring tricks and a mysterious ritual involving incense and a drum roll. However, the mood is abruptly broken by the heartrending speech of a lone woman who endlessly begs for attention and love for her pitiful self. This is reminiscent of the weird, embarrassing figures that appeared in Highway Although you are aware that this is only theatre, it still makes you uncomfortable: with this scene, Meg Stuart holds up a mirror to us all.

She illustrates how desperately we long for contact and attention, until our hearts stop.