Choreographer Sharon Eyal creates a disturbingly beautiful and dark piece of dance, with co-creator Gai Behar in a tainted picture of love. The setting is black, and the absence of much light against tight and unequal black costumes allows me to see incredibly long arms perforating the atmosphere. There are six dancers on stage, all uniquely talented and distinctively different from one another. It seems as though Eyal has selected six aliens from outer space and brought them to discover love in the theatre.
Inspired by the poem OCD by Neil Hilborn this turns out to be a one of a kind experiences of dance and performance. I left the theatre on a high because, throughout this sixty-minute piece, the choreographic materials change frantically, and a sense of self-awareness interconnects the ensemble like nothing I have seen before. The music by Ori Lichtik is mostly upbeat; a composition of techno and sometimes violin which at times underscores small explosions of energy underneath the dancers’ skin. The ensemble contrasts the latter with angular arms and shoulders moving backwards in an arc-like motion. Eyal rarely focuses on one single image. Instead, the composition is eternally shifting. Dancers continuously come together to explore the tightest possible but macabre unison, only to abandon it immediately after in favour of a private and personal dance. It’s bonkers to try and follow all the sexy, risqué, queer and provocative references in OCD LOVE. Eyal achieves the impossible – portraying dance as love and limitless imagination.
Six dancers cohabit the stage elegantly. Tiny impulses under the dancers’ feet make them move seamlessly across the floor with no apparent effort. Occasionally the group lets it all out and reveals the extraordinary lengths of their limits, with hyper extensive legs on a 180-degree counterpoint a dancer bounces restlessly around while biting his hand. It’s in moments like this that I understand the magnitude and power of this incredible dance company.
It’s in moments like this that I cry.
It’s in moments like this that I laugh.
It’s in moments like this that I feel loved.
It’s in moments like this that I feel alive.