With Aringa Rossa (Red Harring), presented at the 16th Biennale de la danse de Lyon, Ambra Senatore continues in an exploration of human nature, which has characterized all of her work to date.
The group in this piece, made up of a larger number of people, becomes a sort of champion for humanity, through which we can observe the nuances of communal life and the relationships that develop therin. Nine dancers offer an intense dance form full of lucid, razor-sharp irony, as an accurate but critical perspective on some of our human weaknesses.
It is a continual wave of big movements and tiny details that move through space, pulling our view through ample vortices and suspending it with brief images and then take off again in a rhythm, as with a large collective breath, dancers and audience together.
Intenses moments of dance intertwine with everyday scenes; and we are delicately transported into a world of union and separation, joy and pain which resemble life and human relationships, but do not represent them.
Far from being didactic, a clean, almost infantile, view constantly transforms the coexistence of the nine dancers from a game to a sacred image (without any intentions of effrontery), to a comic chaos and so on ...
We laugh heartily when the spontaneous order of movements gives way to scenes of a Comedy of Errors. We let ourselves be drawn in by the airiness of dance and, at other times, by the poetry of the images. So lulled and teased, between beginnings of stories that end up being introductions and other stories or paths that are never concluded, we slowly witness a connecting thread made up of recurring elements that are like pieces to a puzzle that we were unaware of putting together.
The title, Aringa rossa, is Italian for “Red Herring,” an expression which designates a false trail or a diversion to confuse anyone following. So the title of the work declares a voluntary blurring or obscuring of elements that instead make up a precise construction, is which nonetheless constantly displacing and confounding our perception. It encourages us to let go, to let ourselves go with the flow, and even be disconcerted at times. There is a through-line, but it is underlying and hidden. It gives the work its evident unity while imposing a non rational, non logical openness on its audience, as there is detailed compositional dramaturgy which is not necessarily narrative. Through layers of clues, Ambra Senatore weaves a unitary plotline with surprising developments: the flow of actions and encounters changes frequently and unexpectedly, yet a single through-line is maintained.
Between lightness and gravity, a heightened sense of absurdity turns moments of ordinary life into surrealistic flashes.