The spotlight focuses on the stage where a man is lying on the floor and slowly starts moving. A second glance reveals that the man is actually two men who appear to be melted together.

The scene serves as a powerful introduction to Tina Tarpgaard’s ‘Tørst’, the first part of ‘… and it ends TWICE’. It deals with the emotions that emerge when humans find themselves in a desperate situation. The two male dancers make the audience feel the pain, frustration and basic human needs that naturally occur in such a fight for survival.

Clever lighting turns the stage into a burning hot, dry desert in which the dancers fight, scream and sweat as well as hold and stroke each other. At first, one of them seems more dependent on the other, actually crawling around on him to get his attention, but as it will transpire, he is not the only one who longs for human touch. It is beautiful to see human instincts like this come alive through such stunning choreography. Tarpgaard has really managed to express the animal within man.

Nelson Rodriguez-Smith’s ‘Mente’, the second part, deals with the subconscious. Constant voices and sounds in the background trigger the delicate movements of the dancers. They are in a surreal world where nothing else matters but their own heartbeat. The clock is ticking, and the dancers take in every sound and respond with exquisite moves.

The dancers move around effortlessly. But it sure isn’t as easy as it looks. Their flexibility, strength, balance and trust in one another add up to a perfect performance.

Simply put, this is beautifully odd. The lights astonish, the choreography charms and the dancers mesmerise, although it does get a bit repetitive at times.

Overall though, it is a triumph. Human nature has been thoughtfully transposed to dance, and the added bonus? It ends twice!

… and it ends TWICE
March 9