Breu is a multidimensional, eccentric array of music, movement, and personality. The stage is transformed into a confined space made up of reflective black tile, replacing the flooring, upstage curtain, and wings. Brittle, desolate, and unforgiving is the space the dancers inhabit. The music and lighting are just as sorrowful and bleak. Low sustained tonal cords, and of bare white light creep into our awareness. Breu places its dancers in a state of vulnerability, from the harsh environment, erratic musical composition, and movements stemmed where from.
The dancers begin sustained, flat on the floor, heavy and independent (yet dependent on sustained support of the floor or others), as though the weight of their environment presses on them as an enhanced gravity. Just as the audience acclimates to the mood, a disturbance occurs by the skipping of a broken record. From there out-breaks a change in music, and a change in movement. The movement becomes wild. Directional, slashing, bound flow, quick, use of far space and infinite space, fast, and abrupt releases to the pull of gravity. Bodily collisions and rebounds rock and shake the stage. Any sense of security is lost even further as bodies are flung seemingly haphazardly through space and into the ground. There stands no degree of self care or self comfort. No intimacy shared with ones self or others as the focus remains infinite.
Grupo Corpo is like no one else. Their dances contain complexity and intricacy that is made to develop through out a piece. At first, a theme might not be obvious, but under further scrutiny, a theme like states of vulnerability is found in the chaos.
