Miglė Markulytė

Three Baltic countries, four contemporary dance institutions, a few hundred dance professionals and three days of simmering in the pot of Baltic contemporary dance. Cooking connections, serving ideas and getting a taste of dance projects that are still in progress and ones that have already ripened. Happening for the third time since 2019, the bi-annual event of the Baltic Dance Platform this year took place in the capital of Latvia, Riga. 

Each year that it’s held, this event provides an opportunity for contemporary dance field professionals to gather under one roof and submerge in an intense and precisely executed schedule of performances, talks, workshops, pitching sessions and networking meetings. This year being held at the RISEBA architecture and media center H2O 6 and spread through several venues, the platform provided exceptionally favourable conditions to foster mutual trust between organisations, institutions and artists. In the spacious venues and dining area participants were not divided by their roles: more people could observe pitching sessions, that in similar events are usually held selectively to the audience of producers and directors; anyone could get to know more about the performances directly from the artists during the aftertalks or pitches; and anyone participating could have lunch with any member of the international jury responsible for the selection of represented artists and performances. In this way, the event turned out not to be exceptionally focused on commercial purpose, but rather a favourable environment for the growth and flourishing of Baltic contemporary dance.

This year there were no workshops in the programme, but a group of Ne(w)kritika writers from Lithuania (that I was also a part of) had a chance to digest their impressions daily in discussions, written texts and playful workshops led by Norwegian theatre, performance and dance researcher and critic, Anette Therese Pettersen. During the workshop we were not only sharing our impressions, but also rethinking the conventional ways of writing about dance, as well as the perspective and the position of a critic. Therefore, this review is not only based on my own observations, but is also an outcome of collective thinking. The workshop resulted in many various forms of reviews in Lithuanian that will be published by Lithuanian Dance Information Centre (dance.lt). For this reason, I will try to provide an overview of the artistic content of this year’s platform without tiring a reader with an excessive analysis of each performance.

Before diving into the content, I would like to point out that it would be incorrect to talk about the works as representing each country’s discourse. This year there was not a single work addressing specifically national or ethnic issues and artists were keener on topics personally significant to them. In my opinion, naming of the country rather points towards the institutions representing the work or formally distinguishes the creators. Hence, I do not see the use of the effort to paint the picture of each country. What interests me more (and hopefully will interest the reader) is how contemporary dance is developing in the Baltic region and which creators are considered to be the best. 

Even though it is already difficult to define a contemporary dance performance, the Baltic Dance Platform offered no help here. On the contrary- a number of presented performances transcended the boundaries of a single discipline, forcing our group of young critics to ponder the differences between choreography and dramaturgy, between theatre and dance fields. 

The very first performance already raised these doubts by inviting the audience to the “Dances to Dream, Res(is)t and Sleep to“. Choreographed by Sveta Grigorjeva (Estonia), this performance aims to transcend the experience of dance as a visual spectacle, instead guiding the viewer through various modes of attention or states of consciousness. Here the audience is seated on the ground, surrounded by scenography of cloths and pillows and pivoted towards the centre where six female dancers lure them into a pastel dream of movements, words and images. At some point in the mesh of all the current problems of the world, performers start hinting to the imagination, as the source of hope. If we could imagine a world without violence- how did we get there? The performance indeed allows us to address the sensitive topics from a gentle state, yet, addressing remains an uncrossed limit. There are brave questions raised related to misogyny, racism and general aggression, but in the end they are left unanswered. Maybe this is the reason why these dances are made to sleep to. Maybe the answers are to be found in dreams?

Another Estonian, Netti Nuganen brought a completely opposite energy to the platform: it could be described as intricate, unsettling, eery, harsh and delicate at the same time. Positioned on the border of performance – concert – theater Netti‘s work breaks out of conventional formats and it is a serious challenge to describe it. During the whole performance we haven’t seen a single dance step, yet Netti’s choreographical thinking was literally and figuratively ground-breaking. The whole charm here is not in the attributes that are self-evident, like Netti’s acting talent or her artistic style, which resembles that of the renowned artist she has been working with – Florentina Holzinger’s. It is rather her intricate ways of relating to the objects and space, the use of her body and the choreography of the glance, voice and breathing. This entirety of the elements, so carefully threaded together into a narrative, firmly holds the attention of the viewer, fixed in the present moment, until the very last minute.

During one of the Ne(w)kritika exercises we were describing performances as if they were people and I found that to be the most suitable way to convey an impression of this performance to someone who hasn’t experienced it. In my opinion, if this performance was a person, they would be a schizophrenic old lady, who looks and acts as a teen punk boy. Rebelling against self created rules with a gentle force of destruction rising from the division of personalities. In this chaos there would be a sharp focus, piercing all of the aspects of self and anchoring them in the present moment. Even if already familiar, this person would be too complicated to introduce to strangers. And if this person started dancing, they would be a living contradiction. 

When talking about the variety of different formats merged in a single performance, Netti’s work could be compared to Grėtė’s Šmitaitė’s “Cracks”. Talking about love in her work, Grėtė successfully completed the challenge to avoid the risks of banality by turning her interest toward the relations and differences between generations. To delve into the struggles looking for the deeper layers of love in contemporary culture, Grėtė chose many forms, from a spoken monologue to the use of facial expressions, from theatrical setting, to dance moves. Yet, contrary to Netti, Grėtė told the story in word and movement separating these ways of expression and hence allowing the audience to delve into each form individually. Here we could see how dance adds another layer of experience – not only allowing the character to speak out their heart, but also creating a bridge for a deeper empathy from the side of the audience. 

Another performance which surpassed the expectations of what choreography could be, was presented by two Latvian artists, Krišjānis Sants and Erik Eriksson. Choreographing not only their bodies, but also the bodies of audience in the space they managed to create a great example of what André Lepecki calls choreopolitics. Lepecki defined the term opposing choreopoliced, as imposed, controlled movement to choreopolitical – movement that is experienced as a practice of freedom, directing the masses away from policed conformity. He proposed that the role of a dancer is to enact the freedom through choreography. And that is exactly what Krišjānis and Erik did in “Verpete”. Expanding and contracting, separating and rejoining into a whirling duo they resembled a vortex in a sea, drawing the audience in and out like the waves. Influenced by the dance of a duo, the movement of the mass was rising from a curiosity to see better, a reflex to step away or a wish to follow. This way the dancers formed an action – reaction relationship and opened up the space for free, yet choreographed movement, that resembled a self-organizing system of humans. 

One of the artist groups from Estonia, called Unholy Trinity raised a question during their pitch: if in the professional contemporary dance field there is a place for those who are not following the standards or aiming for perfection. Based on the diverse range of performances showcased, I would dare to answer positively. To support this assertion, I could offer the performance by Latvian artist Jette Loona Hermanis as an argument: especially considering that this is her second time presenting her work at the Baltic dance platform. But why is that an argument?

“Frostbite“ feels like an endless scroll of somebodies’ feed, where a plethora of different influences converge into a continuous, eye and mind straining stream. Within this work, one can discern echoes of 90’s fashion trends, references to Berlin club culture, queerness, alienation, futurism, trendy contemporary art topics and climate change anxiety. None of these elements are deliberately chosen (as confirmed by the artist during the post-performance talk) or motivated by a narrative. The excess of scenography and strong aesthetics appeared to be among the primary (or perhaps the most significant) components of the performance, leaving the dramaturgical decisions to be secondary. This way artists’ decision to focus on visual aspects became prominent and further complicated any efforts to name the genre. The lack of clarity in narrative made the experience of the performance to feel like simmering in the same pot with peculiar, baby-adult characters and their make-believe world. And it‘s only a matter of personal taste if one can tolerate spinning in such a vortex.

As a result, Jette Loona Hermanis work elicits vastly differing reactions, yet it still leaves a big impression and stands out among the best. Therefore, a choice of jury to include this work in the programme indicates that within the context of Baltic professional contemporary dance, there is a discussion allowing for the destabilization of canons.

Jette Loona Hermanis’s work is punk, much like herself – she can openly express disdain for conceptualization when discussing her performance. Although Jette’s expression may be unconventional to us, it is not dismissible, it elicits curiosity. To further my point, I would dare to assert that Baltic Dance Platform proves that there are no clearly defined boundaries of expression or definitions of dance to which artists should adhere. 

From the performances I chose to mention it might seem like Baltic Dance Platform 2024 was all about questioning the norms and presenting interdisciplinary performances that depart from anything that could be defined as a traditional form of dance. (Un)fortunately, that would be a false impression and a perfect opportunity to turn the course of this review towards two Lithuanian performances. 

Dovydas Strimaitis, a young choreographer from Lithuania also addressed a question what is contemporary dance, but in a very different manner than his colleagues. Stressing the relation between classical and contemporary dance Dovydas presented “A Duet”, a performance that is based on a petit allegro phrase, performed by two ballet dancers to the perfection and beyond. Referring to the ballet not as an artifact of the past, but as a ground for contemporary ideas, the artist sought to blur the lines between what are considered to be different genres. This aim was indeed successful- his work stood out because of the strong technique and a contemporary approach, marked by a doubt of conventions. Dovydas once again reminded us that being contemporary does not necessarily mean denying traditions or transcending the discipline of dance. 

His past coursemate in Codarts and classmate in The National M.K. Čiurlionis art school, Lukas Karvelis also shone with his strong technical background, but his work “Yet another day in paradise“ was memorable for very different reasons. Drawing from his personal history as a queer boy, growing up in the post-soviet society, Lukas choreographed a duet to be performed with his first romantic partner – Benoit Couchot. And it turned out to be a very sensitive and touching love story with a hint of humour, expressed in a mature language of contemporary dance.

Even though the event provided an opportunity to get to know many contemporary dance collectives, artists and initiatives that are based or coming from Baltic countries, it did not provide enough basis to generalise or to draw a picture of Baltic contemporary dance discourse. Baltic Dance Platform was created as a means to strengthen international relations and to present regional dance artists, selecting the ones that are considered to have the most perspective internationally. This way the discourse gets curated and the represented spectrum can never be wide enough to draw conclusions. Also, most of the prominent artists have an international background and have collected various influences, so it would be misleading to attribute specific topics, aesthetics or modes of expression to this region. Yet, in a conversation with one of the jury members Pedro Barreiro, we noticed a few similarities between this year’s participants. In our discussion, Latvians appeared the most challenging in defining their practices. Estonians were the keenest on erasing the borders between theatre, dance and visual art. Lithuanians demonstrated strong technique and an inclination to scrutinize personal topics on stage. Oh, and they raised the least doubts for the group of critics whether their performances belong in the category of dance.

Photos by Rihards Klaužs