Only two brief encounters with Louise Lecavalier/FouGlorieux on November 4 and 5, definitely feel not enough.

         Yet, the few of us who were privileged enough to see the dance performance of Children & A Few Minutes of Lock, will definitely not forget it for some time. "Splendid" would be the one word phrase I would have to choose to describe it, but it is so much more than that...

         First of all, Louise Lecavalier is an amazing dancer with a great technical skill. Seeing her beautiful, muscular body move, taking all of these sophisticated postures from classical ballet to the most outrageous forms of very plastic and unstructured contemporary dance, is a form of aesthetic pleasure. Who would have though a human body can reach such a state of perfection? How easily and without effort it seems this woman can travel over the scene, changing the very density of the air around her. Even when she shares a scene with her co-presenters, I can tell you, all eyes of the audience are still on her. Not because her partners are not worthy in some way, but simply because she is so utterly captivating. Perhaps the most vivid memory of the performance is that of Lecavalier repeatedly flying and spinning horizontally in her partner's arms.

         Second, Lecavalier has a real talent when it comes to visual interplay and innovative use of simple, every day, one could easily claim, boring objects, such as empty plastic bottles, flashlights, pillows, even wooden sticks. What is most important is that the chosen props do not disturb or override the story, the objects used are not alien bodies forcefully introduced on us. On the contrary, they become integral parts of the story, helping us understand it in images, without knowing the words. In this way, plastic bottles fly over the heads of the audience in the same way invisible sparks of anger and frustration would fly during a fight. A pillow is a child, or at least some form of a shared responsibility: it is tossed from one to another as a hot potato. The partners are confused and reluctant to deal with this disturbing new element in the otherwise perfect relationship. A flashlight somehow has to do with the idea of exposing and bringing to light issues, that are kept in the dark. A wooden stick, somewhat traditionally, is a weapon, an element of a battle. Yet it is also a part of that integral element that keeps the couple together. It is, of course, passion.

          Finally, the story itself as told by Louise Lecavalier and Fou Glorieux, is as old as the day, yet as relevant as ever. It is a story of love, of a romantic relationship, of its ardent stages, its inevitable climax, and its merciless ending. This couple, as good as any, begins, develops, evolves, survives or doesn't. What makes it better or worse? What is the determining element that will decide its destiny? Maybe if we can answer those questions during the performance, for this imaginary couple in front of us, we could somehow answer them for ourselves and for our couple in real life. Is it not marvelous how abstract thought of the art can affect so practically the very quality of the human life?

(Photo: Louise LeCavalier, A Few Minutes of Lock/ Massimo Chiarradia)