So anachronistic in today’s chorographical landscape that it is already a feat ! So stubborn in his search for the absolute gesture, for the past 20 years, that he may seem strange. Paco Dècina, originally from Naples and living in Paris since 1984, holds a long and deep breath, which slows down time’s hurried pulse and bends it towards hypnosis.
Presented on Monday, May 15th at the Théâtre de la Cité Internationale where the Company is in residency, Chevaliers sans armures, a duet designed with his partner, Valeria Apicella, unwinds a chain of movements of crystal-clear beauty. Using their bodies to draw the letters of a powerful and harmonious language, consistent also with its flow, the two dancers draw the stages of a vital cycle far from anecdote.
A corridor of red burning light, turning to saturated green squares, light up the bodies dressed (by Regina Martino) sometimes in black, sometimes in white. The darkness goes all the way to the corners of the stage to welcome the human chrysalis wrapped in white fabric. Organs and bells (he dared to use such instruments) rumble, together to airy female voices (the music is a Winter Family duet). Serious, almost solemn, this pas de deux haunted by the reversibility between death and life catches the spectator with terrifying sweetness.
Paco Dècina, mystical ? Probably, but in a carnal way, at times even raw. Each movement is a truth, through its meaning as much as the figure itself. A dance of mutation, Chevaliers sans armures unveils the mystery of self while openly enjoying the spectacular moment. The voice-change of the Knights underlines their vulnerability, the likes of which define their strength.
Should we also consider the technical performance as one of the supreme choreographical qualities? If so, Paco Dècina’s new piece, Chevaliers sans armure, is definitely close to perfection. We already know that his long time partner Valeria Apicella, was trained using both the Cunningham technique and improvisation. Both of these sources of inspiration radiate throughout the duet. The movement is laid out with severe accuracy; a continuous soft flow delivers the co-ordination’s according to their own logic, with a rich variety of pictures, enabling controlled poetic throws between the dancers. The result is hypnotic and helps to perceive the intangible absence that reveals itself in the shadow of presence.
A fascinating power comes out of it, which could have gone without insistence betrayed here by the emphasized languor of posture, there the excessive use of a specific music – beautiful nonetheless - rewriting a fantastic spiritual fable.
With Chevaliers sans armures, Paco Dècina persues his quest for the essence of body gesture. He attempts to make visible the imperceptible interior fluctuations that shape the unarmored body - he listens to the sound of its organic metamorphosis, its uncontrollable palpitations, its unpredictable jumps. Neither conquering, nor heroic, at least in the common meaning. It is yet another battle that the body delivers. It is not about giving a powerful fight, nor bringing down the enemy. On the contrary, it rids itself of all its artificial protection that hinders its own fragility. By leading a battle against the armor, it acquires new strength. So it voluntarily becomes vulnerable, going back to an almost larva-like state. Torsion of embryos versus the parade of knights. Hence Dècina's invention of a never seen before body gesture, especially in the way the bodies own the floor and in the squeezing and intertwining of the dancers, more sensual than erotic, closer to a twin-like embrace.
Just like in Intervalle, Dècina's last duet, Chevaliers sans armures is a compact-like dance, with less compulsive body gesture and a slower rhythm. Precisely because the body fights more with the outside world, as if torn apart, a victim of bipolar tendencies: towards the armor and towards the lifeless body.
There are three distinct moments in this duet: Firstly, the two dancers dressed in black costumes move in a corridor of red light, fitting together naturally in a very extraordinary manner, and move using embracement and separation; then, dressed in white, they enter a lighter phase, more romantic, more vertical, more stricken with anxiety and doubt; finally, they find gravity, the heaviness, floating in a languorous flow, less jerky than in the beginning.
During this last part, Paco Dècina displays on the naked stage white tutus, starched, standing straight on their own, like chrysalis. Are these immaculate hazy fabrics armors? Or on the contrary a knightly and courteous tribute to the delicate veil that wraps up the fragile feminine bodies? A veil that suddenly materializes itself on the stage, bringing on choreography of its own? A veil that wraps the spectator as well? In a beautiful text included in the program Dècina explains the relationship between the spectator and dance. Here is an excerpt :
"By this intensive aspect, and by creating new space to spread out in at each instant, the dancer’s body can then become the medium by which the shape is formed, and the spectator’s eye, the witness enabling the dance to look at itself. So, who then is dancing?
Is there truly a separation between the dancer, the piece and the spectator? By listening to this vital flow, constantly in metamorphosis, the dance itself appears to us."