Florence Dance Festival, the hyperrealist drama Dyptych opens the show

Florence, 18 June 2024 – From the keyhole. It was 1995, when under the protective wing of the Belgian choreographer Alain Platel and his collective “Les Ballets C. de la B.” they met the Argentine talent for the first time in Brussels Gabriela Carrizo and the genius of the French Frank Chartier: from that meeting two years later a company of “dancing voyeurs” was born, i Peeping Toms – in Italian, a mischievous voyeur – ready to sneak into retirement homes and kindergartens, schools and social centers of chaotic contemporary urban agglomerations, observed with a distorting and surreal gaze.

After the success of the play “32, Rue Vandenbranden”, which marked the group’s worldwide take-off in 2009, Peeping Tom created a triptych between 2013 and 2017 for the Nederlands Dans Theater 1 – “The Missing Door”, “The Lost Room” , and “The Hidden Floor” – which toured successfully in major European theaters. Today, on the occasion of the opening of the thirty-fifth edition of Florence Dance Festivalthat triptych becomes “Dyptych – The missing door & the lost room”and will be on stage between Thursday and Friday, bringing all its hyper-realistic and disturbing energy to the Chiostro Maggiore of Santa Maria Novella.

Between lights off and macabre shadows, the scenography emerges from the darkness: a living room, a man lying on the chair, a woman on the floor abandoned and dragged away by a waiter, who enters from one of the thousand open doors on the room to clean the floor on his knees with a rag ready to come to life: the audience is thus transported into a Lynchian and hallucinatory atmosphere, among impetuous winds, disjointed bodies and violent dances, which punctuate fears and anguish, uncertainties and anxieties, accentuated by the destabilizing soundtrack and the diagonal arrangement and perspective of objects.

From the living room, the scene moves seamlessly into a bedroom, where between doors open onto nothingness and wardrobes that engulf whoever opens them, lightning bolts and whirlwinds of wind, the voluptuous bodies of desperate lovers writhe in furious and funereal embraces , in front of the astonished looks of the betrayed people. From their wild dances emerges for a moment the image of an elderly traveller, overwhelmed by the weight of his suitcases and collapsed on the bed, and a screaming mother, while her child, torn from her arms, continues to cry in the distance: in the middle, there it’s us, locked in our desperate voyeurism.

 
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