Storm end Come dance 311.
(photo credit: Courtesy)
In Storm End Come, choreographer Yasmeen Godder and Itzik Giuli, her partner and
co-artistic director, invest in movement investigation, not for movement’s sake,
its diversify or uniqueness, but as a reflection of inner processes that leave
traces on the body and face like emotional residue.
In contrast to
Godder’s recent creations, this time the stage is bare and she uses no props
such as masks, dripping paint or an alarming pair of scissors to perpetuate
dramatic moments. Storm End Come may seem more abstract than her more theatrical
pieces that were lined with narrative, but in fact it is still quite expressive
Godder herself has a unique presence with powerful, intense and
inimitably assured, playfully wicked stage persona.
This time she stepped
back and left the stage to a cast of six dancers. Yet unmistakably, her unique
signature, her idiosyncratic lexicon was tightly anchored in the work by all her
dancers, particularly Dalia Chaimsky and Shulamit Enoch, her best interpreters
They maintain the more assertive female role, typical of
Godder; assured of her powers, physical needs and at ease with her predatory
instincts, in contrast to her male roles, which tend to be insipid, there to be
The evening started with a dancer on all fours, slowly
sliding backwards, contracting her torso as she makes each move. There is an
animalistic quality to her moves. With sinewy sway of hips, she lazily rotates
her upper body, than sprawls on her belly, knees apart, basking in corporeal
pleasure. Slowly the other five participants enter, each with a unique set of
The work process and lexicon choices enabled the dancers to find
their own animalistic instincts and touch their inner spheres yearning for
spiritual rejuvenation through passion. There was shuddering and eye rolling in
climactic ecstasy, occasional licking of one’s limbs or emitting sounds,
self-induced combustion and bodies clinging urgently, disregarding all else,
including the partner, which worked well in fragmented structure and multifocal
As time passes, those fleeting moments of what seem to be
isolated, arbitrary impulses acquire some sense by evocation rather than reason.