Dans - David Zambrano’s “Twelve Flies Went Out At Noon In”

Theater Frascati
Jeroen Peeters, in De Morgen 17 januari 2005
Variaties op staan, wandelen en lopen

Vijftien dansers betreden een sober verlicht speelvlak, kriskras door elkaar, houden halt en wachten af. Uit de luidsprekkers schalt opzwepende hardbop van Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers. De dansers kijken elkaar aan, tot het moment daar is en ze door elkaar beginnen wandelen, een stukje lopen, weer stilstaan, opnieuw vertrekken, rond elkaar cirkelen, onverwachts samenklitten en weer uitwaaieren. Als een zwerm, een dynamische organisatievorm die voortdurend balanceert op de rand van de chaos.

In Twelve Flies Went Out at Noon verzamelt de vermaarde Venezolaans-Nederlandse improvisator David Zambrano een groep van vijftien dansers rondom zich, opgepikt uit de talrijke onderwijsprojecten waar hij wereldwijd bij betrokken is. Hier zien wij niet de clowneske improvisator aan het werk, wel de pedagoog, die organisatievormen en beslissingsprincipes onderzoekt aan de hand van eenvoudig basismateriaal: variaties op staan, wandelen en lopen. Zo bewegen de dansers zich onder, rondom en door elkaar, ontwijken virtuele objekten, transformeren voortdurend de groep en de ruimte, schrijven warrige figuren op de grond.
Vanuit enkele basisopdrachten wordt vlot een uur volgedanst, terwijl Art Blakey enthousiast de vellen bewerkt en Thelonious Monk hotsend en botsend over de pianotoetsen gaat. Het oogt allemaal simpel, terwijl de organisatieprincipes behoorlijk complex zijn. Dat de dansers daarbij een grote autonomie hebben, voortdurend beslissingen moeten nemen en zich de spelregels toe-eigenen, werkt bijzonder aanstekelijk. Twelve Flies is dansplezier ten voeten uit.
Dit soort werk lijkt eerder in het Amerika van de jaren zeventig thuis te horen, toen emancipatie van de danser een groot thema was en volop improvisatietechnieken werden ontwikkeld. Duidelijk is in ieder geval dat vandaag nog veel dansers en choreografen op die principes terugvallen. Interessant ook om in Twelve Flies een danser als Thomas Hauert aan het werk te zien bij zijn leermeester: hier zie je enkel de mosterd, niks geen gedoe met scenografie en dramaturgie. Na een uur blijkt ten volle hoe rijk en doeltreffend deze sobere dans is, die draait op enkel choregrafische principes en veel interactie. Wellicht ligt de betekenis van Twelve Flies vooral hier: in een tijd waarin we plat worden geslagen met vernuftige concepten en complexe vormen van theatriliteit maakt het stuk verschil.

A Man Dances and Everything is There: Skill, Smarts, Spirit

by Deborah Jowitt
March 29th, 2004 5:00 PM
David Zambrano
Dance Theater Workshop
Closed

If there were prizes for wiliness in dancing, David Zambrano would win them all. He looks deft enough to slip through cracks, dive into keyholes, invade your heart. He’s loose and resilient without any loss of precision. No wonder the Venezuelan-born dancer-choreographer is always traveling—to teach here, perform there. Anja Hitzenberger’s film, an integral part of Zambrano’s Barcelona in 48 Hours, leads him (and his dancing partner, Mat Voorter) through airports and into studios and homes—packing and unpacking, having a haircut, dancing in the street. Hitzenberger often plunges still images into an orgy of motion and speed via cuts, as if snapshots were whirling in Zambrano’s mind, while, both on the film and played live, Edward Ratcliff’s Latin-tinged jazz soundtrack for five musicians spices the trip. Talking of his life, dancing alone or with Voorter, Zambrano the traveling man speaks from a grounded soul.

Monson & Zambrano Find Their Natural Habitat

By Lisa Kraus

NEW YORK — Movement Research at the Judson Church played host to a substantial spread of works on Monday. The series, which is free, draws a large, lively audience that comes ready for fun. It wasn’t disappointed.

Maybe it’s because I know about Jennifer Monson’s Bird Brain project that I view her “Improvisation” with David Zambrano as akin to animal behaviour. The two share a territory: the open space of the church. In it they run, collide, play, ignore, fly, groom and spat. Like monkeys whose attention shifts are lightning fast, they could be drawn anywhere at any time and seemingly natural events deflect their trajectories unpredictably. Headed that way? Oops — fly zings by, catch it!

Simone Forti, an elder in Monson’s lineage, spent lots of time watching animals at the Bronx Zoo and bringing their captured motion to life in performance. Monson expands the brief. She and Zambrano in their habitat revel in their dancer/animal range of possibilities. Watching’s like a pleasurable afternoon at the zoo. And not. Sure a hand becomes a claw and yes some animals move just for the sake of it, but these two propel themselves attracted by nothing so much as wanting to see how different parts of the body will kick in to a longer stream of moves. It’s a field of surprise, just as this moment’s a new one — this itch, this urge, this wish to contact is just for now.

Monson’s hands turn her, exploring the space within range, feet stepping on all surfaces — toe pads and squishy heels. She breaks at an elbow, does an easy crashing slide into floor, grounded. She’s become so fine tuned, she plays anywhere on the range of tension. Nothing is here because it’s flashy. Her movement sentences just tumble out. Zambrano fires off rapid streams of easily springy movement, often starting from a feet grounded incline. We hear him think too — snippets of talk and offhand comment; “They have to fix the floor,” he says, sliding a playing card, and as it gets caught on the floor’s unevenness adds “See?”

Zambrano and Monson have the easy familiarity of friends whose bodies are comfortable together but not sexually charged. Flying fingers say “Here I am!” A look says “Coming at you!” They make satisfying space pictures, arm calligraphy and tappy rhythms. The music is by Doug Henderson using all manner of soundmakers — tossing coins, rubbing cards, swishing hands in water — and Guy Yarden, who provides electronic hum, vibrations, and throbs. We have a windy tunnel, a whale, a secret corridor, all evocations of another kind of real world, perfect to play in.

Speaking of play, it seemed hard for the four to find a clear end, just as kids having to drag themselves in on a summer night straggle back. We forgive them — it’s so much fun out there.

Lisa Kraus will perform at Movement Research at the Judson Church on March 29. Her ongoing web log is Writing My Dancing Life.

Ballroom

Reviews Dance-On-Line New York City
Danspace Project
December 12-14, 1996
By Wendy Blum

David Zambrano’s BALLROOM at Danspace Project at St. Mark’s Church, is filled with luscious and intricate movement that infuses the sanctuary with whimsy. Venezuelan Zambrano and his international cast of one woman and three men-Astrud Angarita (Venezuela), Akos Hargitai (Hungary), Thomas Hauert (Switzerland) and Mat Voorter (Holland)- swivel, fly, perch, wrap and soar in an evening of virtuosic, athletic dancing replete with wonderfully quirky timing and highly crafted frenetic fun.

Zambrano spins his dance from the premise that partnering– ballroom, salsa, samba, or contact–is an interaction or energy exchange rather than a set of formalities. Cheek-to-cheek takes on new meaning as two dancers waltz bum-to-bum. In BALLROOM, Zambrano explores and explodes the idea of social-dance partnering with same gender partners, five-person “partners” and even a column and a rectangle of light as dance partners. In fact, throughout the piece Carol Mullins’ lighting design is a stunning precense.

Zambrano’s music choices range from Ellington, Basie and Thelonius Monk to Tito Puente and X-Legged Sally. The costumes designed by Voorter are witty and colorful: blue jeans enlivened by a frilly skirt, fur-trimmed bell-bottoms and a T-shirt with red buttons sewn on for nipples and a belly-button.

In Zambrano and Voorter’s duet, they dip and drop to their knees but don’t make eye contact. This mating dance is characterized by curvy human maneuvering and unexpected rhythms. Zambrano challenges our reliance on the down beat. The two fly across the space. They meet eyes. Their tender duet evolves into weightsharing and contact improvisation. Together, they redefine ballroom partnering for the male couple.

In the romantic duet that follows, the dancers create a springy, calm world inside a rectangle of light. Another dancer walks in and faces his partner, the white column. He pants. His focus on this shaft-like column conveys to us the gender of his mate. Later, Zambrano appears to pun on square dancing when partners loop and swirl inside a square of red light. A risky, sinewy five-person flying pretzel dance occurs, and then, four men dive, spin and leap through center stage in a series of exuberant diagonal crossings. After Zambrano blows softly on the face and eye sockets of Voorter, the piece cools to a sensual silence between Zambrano and Angarita.

Zambrano intermingles set and improvised movement so skillfully it is difficult to detect when the performers slip from one to the other. The group dances with vitality and immediacy. Zambrano uses his speedball body and gleeful outcries–like excess body energy coming out verbally–to express elfin delight. By the end of the evening, the dancing has become a music of its own.

Compania Bolinga

En el mundo de Mandrake
Por Carlos Paolillo (Venezuela)

La compañía dirigida por el venezolano David Zambrano se presentó en el XII Festival Internacional de Danza Maracaibo 2003. Una propuesta estética posmoderna que gira alrededor de la magia y el ilusionismo.

La laguna de Sinamaica, exótica belleza natural situada al Occidente de Venezuela, en el estado Zulia, zona petrolera por excelencia, fue el atractivo escenario seleccionado como una de las subsedes del XII Festival Internacional de Danza Maracaibo 2003. Hasta allí llegaron el bailarín venezolano David Zambrano y su compañía Bolinga, asentada en Amsterdam, para curiosidad y regocijo de los pobladores de sus referenciales palafitos y sus alrededores.

De un pequeño bote desembarcaron cuatro eficaces bailarines improvisadores, pertenecientes al conjunto holandés. De inmediato hicieron suyo el lugar escogido, un parador turístico acuático en cuyo piso de madera ocurrió la acción escénica frente a un sorprendido público mayoritariamente infantil. La obra “Mandraking”, de Zambrano, propuesta de danza posmoderna que gira alrededor del mundo de la magia y el ilusionismo.

Sobre las sinuosas aguas de Sinamaica, la recreación de Mandrake, el famoso personaje de la cultura de masas, adquirió un impensado espíritu. Zambrano presentó fragmentos de la pieza que días antes había sido interpretada en su versión integral en el Centro de Bellas Artes de Maracaibo, así como en el Teatro Alirio Díaz de la ciudad de Carora, en el estado Lara. El sentido lúdico y misterioso del arte de la prestidigitación unido al suspenso ya convertido en arquetipo de las películas de antaño, orientan la obra, que en esta versión representada sobre las aguas, reforzó sus características de suerte de seriado para niños.

La particular banda musical que acompaña la obra incluye desde Jean Sibelius, hasta Liza Minelli y Henry Mancini. De esta forma contribuye a enfatizar el ambiente de teatro, de cabaret, de espacio íntimo decadente para la representación que remite a épocas pasadas.

El singular histrionismo de los bailarines Chrysa Parkinson, improvisadora residente en Nueva York y ganadora de un premio Bessie, Alexandre Thery, bailarín francés fundador en 1998 de In situ Company, el intérprete danés Matt Voorter y el propio Zambrano, van hilando a través de sus cuerpos una historia de sueños e imposibles convertidos en realidad; de imaginación desbordada y sutil e inteligente sentido del humor. Su sólida experiencia dentro de los procesos de la improvisación creativa en la danza queda en evidencia al sortear con sorprendente pericia las imprevisibles situaciones presentadas en un ámbito escénico no convencional y totalmente desconocido para ellos.

Solos que potencian las características individuales de sus intérpretes, duetos de contacto de notables valores plásticos y situaciones colectivas casi siempre hilarantes, en unos cuerpos dúctiles y profundamente consustanciados con los postulados de la llamada nueva danza, hacen del hecho de apreciarlos una estimulante experiencia.

La informalidad del ambiente logró convertir en un intérprete más a los trabajadores del local y también a los asistentes allí reunidos. Al lado de ellos, los bailarines reptaban por la barra y las barandas del sitio con increíble pericia y desenfado, se desplazaban libremente por él, provocando y enfrentando retos.

La carismática personalidad escénica de David Zambrano, prestigioso bailarín y entusiasta promotor por el mundo de la improvisación en la danza como espacio vital y creador de la técnica volando bajo, guió las acciones a través de una expresión corporal y gestual que sólo a él pertenece.

Al final, el público, todavía admirado, abordó sus botes para volver al agua. Durante poco menos de una hora, en la laguna de Sinamaica y de manera inusitada, la danza posmoderna formó parte de la cotidianidad de sus moradores.

Técnica: Volando bajo

David Zambrano es un bailarín venezolano con una amplísima trayectoria internacional. Es fundamentalmente conocido por sus dotes de bailarín improvisador y por haber desarrollado los principios de la técnica Flying Low, “que enfoca la relación del bailarín con el peso, la tierra y su superficie, sin olvidar la quietud y el instituto que involucra su escena”.

Zambrano se ha presentado y ha enseñado sus postulados en más de 40 países de Europa, Asia, Norteamérica y América latina. En la década de los años ’80 egresó como licenciado en Artes de la Universidad de Illinois. Fue fundador y director artístico del Festival de Danza Posmoderna, realizado en Venezuela entre 1989 y 1993, que resultó fundamental en el auge alcanzado por la danza experimental en ese país.

La compañía Bolinga, desde hace algún tiempo radicada en Amsterdam, es, al decir de Zambrano, “un espacio dinámico de intercambio cultural que busca la conjunción de artistas de múltiples tendencias y especialidades que compartan sus premisas”.

La improvisación para David Zambrano es un arte y la coreografía una vía para desarrollarla aún más.

Critca en el Nacional y en el webside Danza
13 de Setiembre de 2004

“…the finest dancer is David Zambrano…Zambrano is amazing. Like a ballet dancer, he moves in all directions with equal ease.” Joan Acocella, 7 Days

“The one outstanding piece was David Zambrano’s 1987 solo Fetiche, based on Venezuelan folklore. Zambrano conveyed the imagery of his native culture, it’s people and it’s flora and fauna with refreshing modernity and orginality. He invested his dancing with a precision and dynamic vitality that were quite breathtaking.” Rose Anne Thom, Dance Magazine

“There’s a riveting solo by Zambrano in which the space around him seems full of menacing beauty – things that he reaches for, things that cause his body to contort, recoil, fall. Yet his dancing is, as always, boundlessly resilient.” Deborah Jowitt, The Village Voice

“In the West there is too much emphasis on ‘Papa-Head’ and not enough on ‘Mama-Earth’”

The Venezuelan dancer, teacher, and choreographer, David Zambrano, has worked in North and South America, Europe, and in Asia. He likes best to teach in places like New York and Amsterdam where there is a mix of different cultures, and he dreams of living one day in a world without borders.
Q: You have written in your CV that you have dedicated your life to cultural exchange and to developing the creative process in a world without borders. Can you elaborate on this?
DZ: I have been traveling a lot since 1981, and since 1987 a lot in Europe. As a Latino, I had some problems with immigration everywhere, so I ended up thinking that it would be a great world if we simply had no borders. I have really always thought that way. This may be a dream in the real world, but not in the classroom. In the classroom I have my open borders. Especially in Amsterdam, where you have people from different countries in the same city, and all in the same classroom. Since Europe opened its borders in 1992, it is easier to travel through it. Before this I would go, for example from Spain to Germany, and immediately run into problems at the airport: ‘what are you coming to do here, how long are you staying,’ etc. And then I would have to leave these countries every 3 months or 90 days. Now it is a little easier, especially since I have my permission to live in Holland.
At a certain point (1984) I founded and directed a festival in Venezuela, and began to think about combining cultures, or making it a real cultural exchange festival. People would come teach whatever they had developed, and then perform. But not only perform — they came and got involved in cultural exchange with the different communities living in Venezuela. I was quite picky about the teachers — they had to be the kind of teachers that allowed the students to find also their own ways of expressing themselves. The people I selected were willing to share rather than simply come and dictate a specific form. This was a very exciting time, and it opened the door to other continents for me.
Q: Do you consider the dance world to be without borders?
DZ: I would say not yet. The dance world that you are talking about is the Western dance world. We have been influenced by only one side of the world so I still think that we can have more exchange. Sometimes I feel like we are quite behind in comparison to some martial arts people in Asia in many ways. What energy means for dancers, for example, is very different than what it means for masters in martial arts. While we (in dance pieces) really want to fly, to crawl into the ground, to jump from high places, etc., I think that in the West we often get lost in the theme of the choreography. The theme of a piece may be very clear in words, but the body still doesn’t quite understand it. There is then a gap; too much papa-head and not enough mama-earth. Yes, I think there is a gap.
Q: You write further in your CV that you believe in improvisation as an art form and in choreography as a way of developing it. What do you mean by this?
DZ: I don’t know you very well, but I believe that before talking to me, you read many books about how to speak, how to question things, etc. However, I don’t think that before this interview you read a specific book with a specific formula in order to ask a specific question. You have been using what you learned. This is the way I use choreography — as little books, or rather chapters in a big book. Sometimes I take a specific structure within which to work. I then set a movement vocabulary that can be repeated many times, and I call this then a choreography. You can repeat it over and over, you can teach it, you can express it at the moment. Then once you know these ‘words’ very well, you can repeat them and use them forever. Then in your life, whi ch is an improvisation, you can use them according to the needs of specific moments. When I go on stage and then need a specific chapter (depending on the moment, the public, the time, etc.) I open the book to the right place and say, yes, I can use this part right now. That’s why I say that I use choreography as a vehicle to further develop my way of expressing on stage.
Q: On the basis of what you have seen in different places in the world, do you have an idea of how dance will evolve?
DZ: I certainly have my wishes. I wish that many of these very important choreographers would be able to just get up and make a dance in front of one’s eyes. Some famous painters, you know, they just take the canvas and immediately do something — this is fantastic, and it takes 20 seconds. I would say to choreographers that they should just get up and make a dance in front of us, rather than using the situation of closing their doors, working for 6 months away from the world and then coming out with something.
Finally, I would love that we would be able to fully speak through the body, like how we are able to speak with words. I hope that in the future, maybe in ten years, that dancers will be able to write with their feet.

I will be soon writing my dance activities in this page, from workshops, classes, performances and everything else related to my dance activities.

So, I hope you all will enjoy and get to know a bit more about my artistic life when navigating my WEBSITE.

Meanwhile, have a long life and happiness.

David Zambrano

Mandraking
mandraking

David Zambrano Invites …
David Zambano invites …

Acme
Acme

Ballroom
Ballroom

Song of a Tooth
Song of a Tooth

Davids complete biography (word document)
Davids CV (word document)

Flying-Low Dance Technique
This workshop focuses mainly on the dancer’s relationship with the floor. The class utilizes simple movement patterns that involve breathing, speed and the release of energy throughout the body in order to activate the relationship between the center and the joints, moving in and out of the ground more efficiently by maintaining a centered state. There is a focus on the skeletal structure that will help improve the dancers physical perception and alertness. The class includes partnering work and movement phrases, which explore the primary laws of physics: cohesion and expansion.

The Dance Web Workshop
In the making of movement compositions, David Zambrano focuses on creating and developing the dynamics for complex systems to present leadership in the form of a group web. After taking part in the dance web, the student will learn to instantly connect with their environment and become more spontaneous in the making of choices as an improviser, choreographer or dancing in someone else’s work.

The class begins in stillness and students are asked to read their body in a standing position. They are urged to connect their entire body with the environment: the air, floor, and the energy of others, forming an interconnection by just standing. When you are standing, the whole room is standing. This stillness jumps to running and passing through each other, running forward backward and around creating a dance web. The highways of the room are warming up. When you are moving, the whole room is moving.

The body is constantly spiraling, whether running or standing. These spirals help the dancers into the floor and out of the floor. These spirals already exist; this workshop focuses on finding them. The spirals help the dancer see themselves and the room from all sides. The dancer knows what is behind him/her as he/she goes forward. To activate these spirals, students locate their center and move all of their joints from this center. Arms, legs, hands, toes, elbows, feet become extensions of the center. The spirals propel the class all over the room, both on the ground and upright. This is the flying low technique.

Where did Flying-Low come from?
When David Zambrano started dancing professionally at age 21, he threw himself into it fully. So fully, that he eventually damaged his middle arches and could not stand up on his own for six months. Instead of letting this derail his very young dance career, he used it to develop a technique that he now teaches worldwide.

Hobbling around University on crutches, Zambrano never stopped moving. He would go to the gym and roll around the mats like a reptile everyday, gaining strength in his arches and examining his relationship to the ground, the earth. Next to him in the gym everyday were a Brazilian jump roper and an old Kung Fu master. By observing this stark contrast of fast and slow, Zambrano incorporated speed into the exercises that eventually got him back on his feet and healthy again.

As Zambrano traveled around the New York City to rehearsals and the like, he incorporated this newly developed exercise plan into a warm-up routine. Onlookers noticed his unconventional style and asked to Zambrano to train them. The Flying Low technique was born. Throughout years of teaching, Zambrano has learned to morph the technique to fit each class. By tapping into his improvisational expertise, Zambrano can adapt to suit any environment, language or need.

The workshop begins with students improvising solos, duets, and small groups utilizing the class as an audience. Zambrano pushes the students to realize that there is always something more inside and that performing is spontaneous. The students are urged to break down old habits to search for new possibilities. Change is vital to this training as the student is asked to constantly change their vocabulary into something new. How do you use your power? How do you redefine what you know, turn it on and off to explore something new? The student become more flexible as they learn to communicate within their bodies, the bodies of fellow performers, and the environment in which they are working. Zambrano asks his students to accept everything one can imagine, especially the impossible, and to learn to call upon them when creating an improvisation.