The silent tenderness of breakdance

Isabella Pohl

 

There was talk of a "reinvention of breakdance" when Bruno Beltrão first appeared at the festival in 2005 with H2. His next work is now called H3 and only refers to his hip-hop roots in quotation marks. Beltrão, now 29, was a street dancer in Niterói, a suburb of Rio de Janeiro, before founding his Grupo de Rua, with which he has been working on a rewriting of the rules of break dancing for the purposes of theatrical narrative, closely observed by international dance festivals for several years.

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In H3, which had its premiere on Monday in room G of the MuseumsQuartier, its nine dancers slowly emerge from the dark shadows of the stage. The noise of passing cars suggests the proximity of road traffic. But the young people, who enter the ring with their arms waving like wrestlers, have already entered a narrative space from another sphere: Beltrão's dancers make the reality of the street, the incessant confrontations and the rituals of affirmation take a long back seat.

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In their almost hour-long performance, they not only break the precisely codified rules of hip-hop battles, but also gently explore the boundaries between human conformities and, not least, the resilience of their relationships with each other. In the midst of traditionally rather stereotypical, tough and masculine breakdance, Beltrão also means a search for expressive possibilities.

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The possibilities of sensitivity and tenderness.

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The fast-paced dance of the nine protagonists initially focuses on fighting poses and demonstrations of power. In the intimate duels, the temperament of the movements changes: delicate wrists rest gently on the opponent's hips, one head sinks into the other's shoulder as if by mistake, but the fist always remains clenched. A quick, contorted attack compensates for the approach, which seems to have happened involuntarily, and like a flock of birds the dancers spin in a circle, then struggle powerfully away from each other.

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A fascinating, sensual and silent search for identity. Instead of loud beats, you only hear the sweaty squeak of sneakers on the stage floor.

 

13 e 14 de maio, 20h30, Sala G