In this new ArtsTalk Magazine column an artist writes about the process of creating their art from inception to execution. This month Scapino Ballet Rotterdam dancer ASHTON BENN describes the process leading up to the first night of Marcos Morau’s Cathedral which opened on 28th November
The Everchanging Art of Marcos Morau’s CATHEDRAL
Life is marked by a timeline of “first” moments, each preceded by an emotional cocktail of excitement and anxiety: the first day of school, a baby’s first steps, a first love – or, for dancers, the premiere.
Even though a premiere is not the first time the choreography is executed, it still carries a unique anticipation. Dancers can trick their bodies and minds into imbuing steps with the energy of a “first,” even if it’s the hundredth time they’ve done them.
Recently, Scapino Ballet Rotterdam experienced its own “first” with Cathedral, a work by Spanish choreographer Marcos Morau. Created in 2019, the 2024 revival wasn’t a premiere in the traditional sense, but for five of us in the cast – including me – the 28th November performance was our first time dancing the piece. The production is an abstract exploration of a dystopian world dominated by robotic figures desperately seeking humanity.
Morau’s contributions to contemporary dance extend beyond Cathedral. As founder of the Barcelona-based company La Veronal, he has developed a reputation for theatrical, surreal works and has choreographed for internationally renowned companies such as the Royal Danish Ballet, Nederlands Dans Theater, Ballet de Lorraine, and GöteborgsOperans Danskompani.
Much has changed since Cathedral debuted five years ago. Just days before the opening show, Morau visited Rotterdam to refine the work, making both subtle and substantial choreographic adjustments.
“I have to say in some ways, it’s hard to look back at the past, but it’s also inspiring to see who you were at that time,” Morau said about revisiting Cathedral. “I’m a different person now, but I’m grateful because it was a work that became an important key in my life.”
Up to an hour before showtime, Morau was a streak of lightning, zipping between dancers to give notes on movement quality and incorporating new vignettes into the already visually stimulating piece. As a choreographer, Morau goes to great lengths to ensure his productions never feel static or predictable. Standing tall in front of the 12-person cast, he challenged us to abandon specific choreography to preserve an erratic feeling.
“It should feel like you’re on fire or you’re malfunctioning,” he said passionately waving his arms. “You know where you need to end up, but the journey of how to get there can change from night to night or even moment to moment.”
The unison parts, where we performed as programmed robots, remained perfectly in sync. However, the nuanced sections and solos were reimagined and individualized, adding even more depth to the work.
As a dancer, this freedom was both liberating and daunting. After spending over a month rehearsing precise details, it almost felt careless to forego the familiar in favor of the unknown. And yet, that’s exactly the point. I found that it was easier to fully embody the character of an android when I allowed myself to become so immersed in the performance that my body acted on its own accord as if it had detached from my mind.
Morau granted us artistic autonomy so that each performance, whether the first or the 40th, could still hold surprises and moments of “firsts.” This constant pursuit of new, fleeting experiences is what drives Cathedral, and finding those twinkling discoveries is the real reward. As Morau put it, “It’s truly live art. It is everchanging for those who dance it and those who watch it.” Ashton Benn 10th December 2024
Photo by Hans Gerritsen
