Can it be that nothing exists below the surface sometimes? Disempowering the habits of explaining or sympathising while observing movement and bodies seemed to be Ben J. Riepe’s goal. In addition, a comprehensible purpose of the action on stage was also not offered in his choreographies. Except: to be seen.
This reflects a very contemporary mode of living and perceiving. When real people embody it on stage, then it fascinates and disturbs. However, the dancers hardly seem real, but rather artificial in the circus-like costumes and their jagged movements and poses: slanted walking, teetering, scurrying, hyper-demonstrative thinking, speaking, group and sex poses, extreme contortions and broken ballet. They gasp, scream and sing.
Riepe created full-length productions such as “amour espace”, in which the characters stepped into the espace, the space, as though it were a strange planet. Or a series of “images”, short pieces, that he then brought together into “Liebe, Tod und Teufel” and a parcours that added impenetrable fog, stuffed wild animals, fallen warriors and a bombastic symphonic score. In “Hundstage” the edges were rounded off, the characters less like figures; emotions steam from their pores and the stage sweats. “Untitled: Natura” offers the dancers a helping hand in the form of a question: “Who am I?” A saddle, reins in mouths, whining, staggering, barking, small talk: Riepe stages what’s real. Naturally un-cloudy.
