Nadim Bahsoun holding a portrait of teta Amina in his show "C!S-TEM ERROR," at the Les Rencontres à l’échelle festival in Marseille. Photo provided by Nadim Bahsoun.
What is left of our exiled bodies, scattered across the world, their fragmented memories fading with the relentless passage of time? And what can these silent, fragile, and helpless bodies still say, so far from the land that gave them life and is now being consumed by war? They convulse. They contort and seem to scream silently through the spasms, tearing them apart.Nadim Bahsoun presents this fractured body in a dance performance where there is almost no dancing: there is trembling, collapse, and rupture. Is this the impossibility of dancing? Are we witnessing the limits of bodily harmony, the impossible lightness, the forbidden gesture in the unbearable reality of war? Yet the Lebanese choreographer takes audiences on an intimate journey of infinite tenderness to the heart of south Lebanon, a lost paradise shaped by the love of his...
What is left of our exiled bodies, scattered across the world, their fragmented memories fading with the relentless passage of time? And what can these silent, fragile, and helpless bodies still say, so far from the land that gave them life and is now being consumed by war? They convulse. They contort and seem to scream silently through the spasms, tearing them apart.Nadim Bahsoun presents this fractured body in a dance performance where there is almost no dancing: there is trembling, collapse, and rupture. Is this the impossibility of dancing? Are we witnessing the limits of bodily harmony, the impossible lightness, the forbidden gesture in the unbearable reality of war? Yet the Lebanese choreographer takes audiences on an intimate journey of infinite tenderness to the heart of south Lebanon, a lost paradise shaped by the love of his...
