A silent fight against the rolling machines – an important food for thought

Jefta Van Dinther's Remachine explores how we must constantly be in motion so that the world doesn't run away from us. I think this is a realistic picture wrapped in a dance performance that many can identify with.

“I am heavy, like a stone,” sing the dancers on the main stage at Dansens Hus in Jefta Van Dinther’s Remachine. The performance begins with a dark stage space on the main stage. Before the lights slowly but surely come on, singing begins to resonate in the hall. The song is calm, almost on the verge of a lament. As the light grows stronger, you can make out six figures sitting on a large, round surface that is slowly moving around. The figures are spread out, and it doesn’t take long before several of them join in the lament. After a while, the figures begin to move. They begin to push on the surface, as if they are using all their strength to keep the wheel going. Almost as if they are working for it.

Throughout the performance, the dancers move on this circular surface, which slowly moves around and around. The way the world does, unstable and not user-friendly. The dancers are often in motion to stay in the same place while what they are standing on rotates. If they don't move, they will end up behind. Lagging behind.

The dancers' movements are stiff and tired, as if they are fighting an invisible force that is exhausting them to the point of unbearable exhaustion. It seems as if they are using their very last strength on each movement, as if they could collapse from exhaustion at any moment. Sometimes that is exactly what happens. They fall. One by one. They fall off the moving surface and are dragged along, round and round, as they are dragged along the ground. The surface does not stop, it just keeps spinning. It does not care if you are hanging on or not. The system just rolls and goes. In the end, there is no one left.

After they all fall off, they start again with renewed courage. The lights change and now only one side of the spinning circle is illuminated, the other is left in darkness. At first, the dancers manage to stay in the light, moving seamlessly in and out of sync. But slowly some of them slow down and get stuck in the shadows, and once you get stuck it's hard to get back.

Unsynchronized synchronization

They are all individuals, with their own movements and voices, but they are still part of a community that works together. They often do the same movements with different variations and tempos, and towards the end of the performance, all the dancers gather in the middle of the moving surface. They each pull a rope, which is attached to the base. They pull, and they pull. Nothing happens, but they keep pulling hard. They all do the same thing, but they do it separately. Struggling, each separately. In this world, we face many of the same problems, whether it is work, school or having to live up to expectations through social media, our own parents or inner demons – but we often struggle alone. We struggle against the same machine, but each for ourselves.

We also often encounter our own shadows in life, whether they are created by a friend, our own thoughts, or an increasingly unstable world. We encounter shadows everywhere, and it is easy to end up in one's embrace. What is difficult is to get out, to run fast enough so that they don't catch up with you. Remachine addresses this race, how and how easy it is to face these dark times and how difficult it can be to get out, in a way that is easy to recognize.

"Am I falling?"

Towards the end of the performance, everyone stands with their backs to the machine and leans out towards the audience. They have tied the rope around their waists. The room fills with a repetitive lament. “Am I falling?”, they sing. “Am I falling?”. The rope is still attached to the center of the spinning circle. It seems as if they have given up all power to the machine. It is the machine that keeps them from falling outside, but they all ask themselves, “Am I falling?”, as if they do not trust the machine to hold them. As if it might ever let go completely and let them fall into the darkness that envelops the rest of the stage.

As I sat and watched the performance, it felt like I fell into a kind of trance. My body felt heavy and immobile as I watched the dancers' weary struggle against the moving surface. With a toned-down and somber approach to both choreography, lighting and music, Remachine creates an atmosphere that can easily be put into context with today's world situation. The performance also addresses several relevant themes, both on an individual and societal level, with the use of a moving surface and a choreography that brings out the interaction between the dancers in a completely unique way. Without lines and minimal props, Remachine makes me think about my own existence in relation to society and the system around us and becomes an important food for thought in an increasingly unstable and dark world.