In Mouvement – Cahier Spécial Myriam Gourfink
où l’on peut lire la version française :
“Subjugué par un Souffle Non-Coupé”
A yoke (joug)…
You watch Molecular Black (2007). Seeking relief, your eyes try to abstract a single picture from the scene. It means you have lost the required concentration to pass from one picture to another one. You can’t pay attention any more to – to what? To what takes place, in the interior of the body. Even if it would have been definitely impossible to see this interior. “What we show means nothing”, she says. This internal yoga, this gynecological adventure, this Tantrism for radical change in the body was not aimed at you. Yoga, this yoke (joug) forcing the body to its patient sovereignty.
Expelled from a scene, and returned to its birth, the look that focuses on Myriam Gourfink’s dance also has to be conquered. This look will not be able to rely on representation, which the scene relinquishes. Nor on the scale of the movements, which unfold in a non-human dimension – or a human dimension free of the ordinary time of useful movements targeting a practical goal. It is not this slowness that prevents the viewer from conquering his proper position, but the difficulty of feeling the fluent passage of time without fixing it in a cliché, in an ordinary cultural (or so-called artistic) snapshot. However, she says, “dance is not movement”: the chronology of the bodies may ultimately not rely on any kind of movement, however micro. This michronological temporality is inner sensation within the body. Would we have to see this dance with our internal organs? Must we be subjugated, yoked with a new organization of the body if we want to be able to see? If, as she says, “I want to give the impression that the bodies open”, they cannot hatch except for a body whose eyeball has turned inward.
Yoga and yoke: something has to be forced, to return the title of the spectacle of 2004: Contraindre (to constrain, to obligate). To give to the body the power to not accelerate requires a strict training, a counter-power able to fight a certain kind of (hyper)modern use. It’s possible to find this counter-power in the practice of the breath, the practice of mind/body unification, of organic feeling. The art of Myriam Gourfink implies technological equipment, software, screens and writing. They are designed to be integrated with what might happen. I thought I was seeing a body, bodies, but I was wrong: I was seeing what she calls a “metaperson”, beyond bodies and souls. A Metaperson is the space of transformation through which breath technologies are unknowingly incorporated into the look. It links the dancers to the screens that display the partitions of the bodies, but also the spectators involved in the scene. Don’t wait for a release. But for an intensification. End of the epoque of deconstruction: we must take care of bodies and stop disrupting them. A care requiring a discipline.
… foiled (déjoué) by x…
Nevertheless, we would say. This is not quite liberal, is it? This free individual lost. Via a prior writing. With an assumed abstraction. It’s always the same thing, the same truth: politics regenerates when the non-political becomes political; philosophy invents itself on escaping itself; dance is relaunched on getting rid of all its criteria. “I do performing arts before dance”: “before” here expresses the prerequisite through which the word dance must be renamed. Not non-dance, but x-dance, x instead of porn, absolutely, to reformulate sexuality in an organization that could never be seen with x-rays. In the same way that the abstraction of dance protocols is the condition of possibility for a realization of the living as such. Meta- to be inside, and the inside here becomes something completely different. Myriam Gourfink lets in the outsides without which any art languishes (instant memory: Boccioni in 1911, inserting a piece of wood into a statue from a balcony).
Visible organs disappeared, emptied center – we will dance “around the edges”, sur les bords, where there is no form, but where any form can anticipate its substance, its sub-jugated substrate. We can’t withstand the influence of liberal biotechnologies in believing that we are exempt from them, but in practicing an asceticism that has in view a new shape for the world – “when we look at the clouds, we are organically with the passing cloud.” Imaginary words that we have to incarnate, with what we’ve got (avec tous les moyens du bord). We can’t get rid of the grammatization of the world by breaking the tablets of code, but by foiling their grip of death. Projecting writing to the provisional, the pro-vision of unexpected inflections more than improvisation … a “shaky dance”, she says.
… to the edges of a world.
So Les temps tiraillés (2009), or torn time. Our uncut breath attends a gestation going through an orgasmic sexuality without a central spot, implying a new arrangement of the organs. Non-cardial, the music of Georg Friedrich Haas is however rhythmic, carrying a breath that rises in power and then returns after releasing bodies to better take them again – but where? Towards which direction? What tensions indispose bodies against what they were? Can we talk about direction when the dance goes against the concept of movement? I look at the feet of the dancers, their approaches to the ground by the edges. They try to establish a new world, only performed by the meta-drilled bodies, rolling like – an animal. Cliché? Indeed, no doubt, we seek habits and we find them so easily. But nothing will prevent us from retro-projecting on the environment built by Myriam Gourfink the outlines of a yet unknown living being.