interview Bàra Sigfusdottir
This piece was written during my MA Arts and Lifestyle Journalism - University of the Arts London.
Find the Dutch version of this piece published on the online space of Het Toneelhuis.
Go with the FLÖKT: Can we experience a dance-play and a waterfall in the same way?
‘Go with the flow’ becomes a challenging way of living in a society that is increasingly intellect driven. We tend to undervalue what was there in the first place: our senses. Our innate human superpower inspired dancer and choreographer Bàra Sigfúsdóttir and visual artist Tinna Ottesen for their new dance-play FLÖKT.
Why is it that a dark blue sky filled with stars remains so appealing even though we get to see it almost every night? And why is the sound of walking on crispy leaves in fall so therapeutic? As we got used to using our senses so often, we no longer contemplate their uniqueness - or the way in which nature directly engages with them. How it has been described in the best-selling book The Alchemist in 1988 is equally relevant today: “Everything on the Earth’s surface, humans and non- humans, is written by the same hand. Once you realise that, you understand the Language of the World.”
Embodied experience
Flökt – literally meaning floating - premiered on the February 19th 2020 in Mechelen (Belgium), and is an ode to the fascinating simplicity of our everyday life. Sigfúsdóttir and Ottesen wanted to create a sensation similar to the one a busy household leaves you with. Cooking, for example, does not simply imply stirring in a pot. You smell the aromas, you hear your partner talking while the radio is playing next to you, you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket as your mom is trying to call you, and you catch a glimpse of your dog through the window. Our senses are working overtime.
Flökt operates in the exact same way: the spectator, seated at the centre of the stage, is encircled by the floaty movements of the dancers and white linen drapes. Sigfúsdóttir and Ottesen experiment with a new format: Flökt is an embodied experience. As the performers adapt themselves to the audience, both are equally important in the show. The play unfolds itself through multiple perspectives whilst focussing on the different ways of receiving. Sigfúsdóttir and Ottesen are not interested in delivering their personal message - they want to create a physical experience that differs for each individual. A gentle invitation to pause and re-think the personal relationship of your senses with nature.
An organic way of living
Bàra Sigfúsdóttir grew up in Iceland, but video-calls me from her current home in Belgium. Her husband is Icelandic as well, and as he walks in the room without knowing his wife is in a call, I try to understand a word of the strange-sounding language they speak with each other, without any success. After Bàra tells me Icelanders grow up with quite a unique set of norms and values, I understand why she fell in love with someone originating from the same country. Bàra has lived in the Icelandic countryside with both of her parents until she was an adolescent. She believes that the society and the living conditions in Iceland are in direct interaction with nature, unlike in many other places in the world. “As a kid, I remember eating what nature had to offer for that particular season. My dad would go out fishing everyday while me and my mom were busy collecting duck eggs. Nature is not just a form of beauty: it is food, light, a navigation point.”
Bàra’s parents passed on to her a profound respect for nature. “However, as a child, you don’t think about that. It’s just an organic thing. But as I grew older and moved to the United States, Amsterdam and eventually Belgium, I learned that everyone has a very personal connection with nature. One that is very dependent on the way you were raised, and in which particular place in the world. Everyone has a different perception of nature. Someone else can’t determine nature’s power for you, because it is something that comes from within. In Iceland, there are also people who never leave the city, and that is fine as well. It is all a matter of acknowledging and respecting the fact that we all have an own interpretation. Because somehow, we have to figure out a way to live together in harmony.”
Sensory beings
Something Bàra wanted to focus on in Flökt is her belief that nature grows just as much inside of us as it does on the outside. “We grow in the womb of our mothers and feel this natural connection with her for the rest of our lives. Before we are even able to wrap our brain around something, we feel it. Think of an uncomfortable situation or falling in love with someone, it is often impossible to put this feeling into words. We are sensory beings. Much more than we are beings of knowledge.”
Without minimising the horrific damage the current pandemic has caused, with death as its worst consequence, there are, according to Sigfúsdóttir, also positive sides to it. And we must allow ourselves to enjoy them. “A period of forced slowing down has created space to listen and to feel. To connect or re-connect. To discover. To float. There is always more work to do but we are forced to find contentment in what we have already done. People spend their time differently. They start to bake sourdough-bread themselves, instead of just buying it in the supermarket. I even met people growing vegetables on their roof - in the middle of a big city. Because of this imposed break, we take a few steps back from our result-oriented mentality. We rediscover our interest in the (slow) process, and everything that it involves.”
“In Iceland we have one of the largest waterfalls in the world,” Bàra recalls, “and when you visit it, it is a physical experience. You feel the ground shaking, you are overwhelmed by the loud noise of the water falling down. It touches you in a physical way. I believe that art has the same potential. Unfortunately, we live in a very pragmatic culture. When we go and see art, it is very much about ‘whether we understood the play or not’. However, we should experience the play first before we understand it. We don’t have to understand every detail of it. When we visit a waterfall, we are also not busy thinking ‘how is my friend experiencing this waterfall?’.”
“Whether or not you can experience a waterfall and a dance-play with the same intensity, is dependent on one’s personal relationship with nature. But most importantly, it is about allowing yourself to sense before you understand – and to do it in such a way that is slightly different from what we have been taught.”