"The Big Crying" von Marco Goecke am Nederlands Dans Theater uraufgeführt
Wer die Werke von Marco Goecke kennt, weiß, dass sie immer mit ihm selbst und mit der Zeit zu tun haben, in der sie entstanden sind. Vielleicht ist "The Big Crying" Goeckes persönlichstes Stück, begonnen im Herbst 2020, kurz nach dem Tod seines Vaters. Es ist ein Stück über Abschied und über alles, was wir verbrennen müssen, sagt der Choreograph, spricht von Körpern, die wie kaputte Motoren sind und von Kostümen, die an die Vorhänge eines Leichenwagens erinnern. Dass zu seiner Musikauswahl ein "Death Lullaby" gehört, verwundert da nicht, ebenso ins Schwarze trifft "Blood Roses" der amerikanischen Sängerin Tori Amos, deren manchmal verwirrende und nicht immer nachvollziehbare Poesie Goeckes Tanz sehr nahe ist. Dass dieses Stück trotzdem mit der ungeheuer feurigen Kraft einer ganzen Kompanie, neunzehn herausragende Tänzerinnen und Tänzer, daherkommt, liegt vielleicht daran, dass gerade bei aller Vergänglichkeit der Tanz und die Choreographie die Freude am Leben und den Drang, lebendig zu sein, zelebrieren.
N.K.
Foto: Rahi Rezvani fuer NDT 2
Tänzer: Charlie Skuy und Juiting Yu
Anbei Auszüge aus der niederländischen Presse in Englisch:
Leidsch Dagblad
It is incredible how emotions can touch you so deeply through such a small screen. However, Marco Goecke succeeds in this with his most recent work “The big crying”.From Goecke's new work ´The big crying´ you can conclude after just one minute that you are looking at something fantastic. This is one of his most beautiful works by the choreographer who manages to baffle time and again with his creations.
Parool
For clichés about grief (and its stages) you've come to the wrong place at Goecke. Conflicting emotions dart back and forth like pinballs. Just like the dancers' limbs – especially the arms and shoulders – that jerk and stick at hummingbird speed.The wringing madness reaches its peak when the entire ensemble turns towards the viewer, laughing, furious and raving hysterically. A viewer who at that moment has completely forgotten that he is watching a live stream on a computer screen that is much too small.
de Volkskrant
It is not a consolation candle but an all-scorching flame at which the dancer stares at the start of The Big Crying.
The condolence is finally resumed, when the same bare-chested dancer (a powerful Jesse Callaert) sees all colleagues approaching again, each with a different quick “hug-at-distance”. One hand behind the back, a pat in the direction of the chin. And off they shoot again, their arms trembling nervously like butterfly wings fluttering. It is gorgeous how Goecke captures an unfathomable emotion of fresh mourning versus clumsy compassion here. You don't have to read it. You can also just enjoy this barrage of cramped, angular, rattling, motion explosions.NRC
Marco Goecke masterfully maneuvers with the large ensemble in a choreography steeped in farewell and mourning. ´The Big Crying´ shows on the fragility of life and love.
In the new The Big Crying, the second choreography on the program, Marco Goecke lays his soul more bare than ever, with a choreography that is permeated with feelings of love, farewell and mourning. Even with all these emotions, it is striking how masterfully Goecke directs the large ensemble of nineteen dancers in a seamless sequence of larger and smaller formations. And although the required sharpness in the movements seems to have to grow a bit, the talented dancers are a pleasure to watch.Seeing Dance
[The cast] dance[d] on the edge, producing remarkable performances in both Kylián’s work and Marco Goecke’s new The Big Crying, two pieces that emphasise humankind’s resilience despite the uncertainty and transient nature of life.
Moments around the loss of a loved one are clearly shown. Dancers grimace, scream silently, use hands to show flowing tears, raise their arms heavenwards as if asking ‘Why?’. I am less sure about the need for vocalisation and mass screeching, however, even if it does add another layer.
The Big Crying concludes with a primal, hauntingly beautiful solo by Jesse Callaert. The rawness of his pain is there for all to see as his grief pours out to Amos’ slow and deeply felt version of REM’s ‘Losing My Religion’.
(31.03.2021)