Encounter

It all begins with a circle where everyone finds their place. All of them let their voices resonate like behind a cloud of mist, and then it’s the magical moment when we see each other for the first time at the School. The endless conversations about stage presence, love, self-hatred sometimes, incomprehension, shyness and despair are initiated by the choreographer, this stranger who quickly becomes a new member of our great diverse family. At the beginning of each session, we rush to the bulletin board where for the first time a new name appears, the artist we’ll soon meet. There’s always electricity in the air about something new and tenuous anguish about the idea that the encounter might be disappointing. And then the choreographer enters like in slow motion, with amazing humility and that agile step of dancers, those who have tamed their bodies and drawn deep enough to reveal treasures.

Creation as a tyrannical lover demands that we completely surrender ourselves, says Marc Boivin. Extreme slowness forces us to find new paths, says Lucie Grégoire. Dance is the visceral poem of the kneeling warrior who always gets back up, adds José Navas. There are no words to describe how moving it is to see these men and women searching in real time for the path to “the” work, almost naked in front of us, students, like writers striving to find the right word, like painters’ hand-to-hand combat with their canvas. Each presentation before the audience’s intoxicating energy is the result of a multifaceted process. And often many tears before the beauty of Dance and the opportunity to devote several hours to it every day. Each choreographer, once their back is turned, leaves their mark on us. It’s up to us to carefully choose what will enable us to grow as dancers and let the rest find its own way.

As a second-year student, in the midst of concentration and intense work, I especially remember the many laughs shared with those who make up my cohort, both in and outside the classroom. Rather shy by nature, I’ve rarely had the privilege of being part of a “group.” I’ve always said that I prefer the loyalty of a single friend rather than the superficial affection of the multitudes. Since my arrival at the EDCM, I’ve come out of my shell to my heart’s content, revealing new faces whom I already deeply love. The adventure proposed by each new artist would be unthinkable without their humanity, passion and support. There would be no Remanence without Eleanor’s infectious enthusiasm, Jerome’s affectionate encouragement, André’s sweet madness or Nolwenn’s glistening blonde hair. Their voices and rowdiness are also healing comfort on rainy days and when everything goes wrong. Even hidden, even at a distance, there’s still the almost physical sensation of the bond that brings us closer, born of dance and our shared vulnerabilities, which nothing can break, at least in the coming year. It’s also the ephemeral passion for the performing arts.