Skin Me

performed by Csaba Molnar, Viktória Danyi & Tamara Szófia Vadas

Everything could seem to already have been said on feminism, male sexism and gender, yet the Hungarian quintet manages to turn all questions on their heads, to deconstruct, destroy, and puzzle together new images in a flow of suprising sequences. In the end, the blame is on the male chauvinist pig, but this time with lots of humour. For the spectators, all bets are off when the remarkable dancer Csaba Molnár proves his capacity for clowning. The two musicians on stage interact beautifully with the creative and expressive women on stage. The piece is carefully linking modern dance to irony and parody; only one taboo seems to remain for this energetic attack: gay and lesbian issues. Perhaps this will come next?

Contemporary dance events often have a sensation of emotional restriction: stone faced dancers executing ideas of ambitious choreographers, watched by stone faced spectators, sophisticatedly reflection upon this execution but barely able to give a genuine response.
Skin Me refreshingly shakes up those parameters by letting it all hang out - metaphorically and literally.  Mainly entertainment, but witty and well woven, and overall a celebration of the daring mutual influences that the performers allow themselves to have upon each other.

Everything seems to be in flux, negotiable, happening on the spot, decisions taken by the collective not on the base what is most artistic but what creates the most pleasure. Watching it felt like meeting an old friend again after a long time.

Brazen displays of nudity, hilarious interactions and provocative images all unfold in this assorted piece. A leisurely opening sees three dancers slide effortlessly over and under each other, limbs landing lightly as they playfully prod and tap at each other's bodies. Overtly sexual yet not gratuitous, it's a soft introduction to the bold and energetic choreography yet to come. Set to a punchy rock score, Skin Me is loaded with metaphor, irony and a refreshing self-awareness. Direct interaction between musicians and dancers is a little drawn out but adds an intriguing new dimension to their discourse. As they harness humour from the natural movements of the women’s bodies, something feels off-balance: our amusement sits uncomfortably alongside their feminist message.

← Back to Reviews

Spring Forward
23 – 25 March 2018
Sofia, Bulgaria

Watch on demand: aerowaves.org/springforward

Connect with Aerowaves for the latest news about Spring Forward