How to crack a Christmas Eve bliss over vodka and cheesecake
 

Rafał Dziemidok, a choreographer, obsessed about Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker decided to dismantle the popular fairy-tale like narration and by use of dance, to tear into shreds our longing for peace for Christmas./.../

As a result, the spectator watches dance, which is to be a bridge between ever-clashing traditional figures of ballet and abstract forms of contemporary dance./.../

One does not need to be an expert on ballet and dance to see the clash, the struggle for domination on the dance floor. The fluid, gentle, formal, fairy-tale-like mixes with the physical, natural, agressive, raw. Sometimes we can see a body searching for a form, sometimes its sheer work, heavy breathing without musical background, physical exhaustion, before next phrases./.../

45 minutes of exhausting dance and 15 of (fake) bliss

An hour long piece has a surprising finale, relating to communal, Polish, Christmas Eve image./.../ It shows a picture of Christmas Eve supper with vodka and cheese cake. the same persons who were spitting blood when dancing /.../ now enter new 'Christmas" roles (with all the positive and negative shades of that).

Even though dance theatre for many can be associated with boredom even bigger that that caused by traditional one, it is worth emphasizing that 1 hour long piece could be a good remedy for often poor drama shows.

Marek Władyka, TVN WARSZAWA.PL, 30th of August 2010,

 

Dancer, form and narration

The contents and the meaning of The Nutcracker become a departure point for Dziemidok. What is the result of the research? Duets, narration, music, relation of dancers with music and - probably the most important one - their stage presence - construe a clear and open form of the piece. /.../

The beginning of powerful music takes the dancers into unison, sequential action, repeated in different directions. The performers are one organism, which closely follows the music. Dynamic movement composition, frequent, horizontal shifts, stiff poses, clear spacing and repetitions give the scene a feeling of pressure, discomfort, discipline and work. The dancers function as a group, as one specific body. White light emphasizes powerful and mechanical movement. /.../

One can say that Nut. Squirrel is for many reasons a personal piece. The performers from the beginning to the end remain themselves, use their names, courageously open before the audience during improvisation. Each of them confronts the undertaken issues on her/his own and goes out with it towards the spectator. The audience, however is not put at discomfort of following internal processes of performers and does not feel like a voyeur. The dancers' presence is calmly conscious, full and precisely placed between themselves, topic and the viewer.

Nut. Squirrel, as if going back to the source, puts a lot of attention to the music, carefully selected to fit the purpose of the piece. Its previous domination is substituted by equal dialogue with the movement sphere /.../

Nut. Squirrel is a piece made precisely, on all accounts. Thanks to the use of improvisation it opens the form, relating at the same time to the original source of narration of the classical ballet, as if conversing with it via the contrast of movement form. It opens many possible lines of interpretation, hence debating also with the viewer. /.../

Marta Kula, nowytaniec.pl, 1st of September 2010

 

I enjoyed listening

I enoyed listening - those were the first words I uttered having seen Koncentrat's Nut. Squirrel. And honestly speaking it came as a surprise, since Alexander Balanescu's music accompanying the piece, or co-creating it, was not the kind I listen to willingly. Loud, dynamic, aggressive - should tire, yet it almost relaxed me.

It was a paradox, but the paradox turned to be rather pleasant. The other surprise was of more complex nature. Dziemidok's choreography from the very start seemed very familiar to me, almost in every aspect; all I saw in the piece I had already seen before. So it was not the surprise. The surprise was that, I watched that choreography with utmost pleasure, without a moment of weariness or impatience. /.../ I once heard that Dziemidok's works are predictable, even monotonous. Even if it was so, it matters not, if they can give so much pleasure. I left Nut. Squirrel in truly magnificent mood.

Andrzej Z. Kowalczyk, Polska Kurier Lubelski,
nr 265 online