about Adamdam

Two stripes of light are covered in a torpid and pulse like sound, covering, wrapping and alarming the bodies, which beacons and being cut from the darkness.
It is the opening scene of ‘Adamdam’, by the young Arkadi Zaides, an interesting and original choreographic research, in which Zaides morphs and reshapes the body, organizing a new beyond-human organism, experimenting different points of view, by decomposing and recomposing the body over and over. Not symmetry, neither beauty, but the search of how and where it will be able to reach and push itself. The foot, the elbow, the hand, all can guide, while the faces are flushed, drawn to you.
Two marionettes are being directed, incapable to go beyond short, repetitive, not organic jammed actions. for a moment they are animated, like a heroes of a video game, bothered in awkward actions, hanged and repressed to the ground.
After a pose, a metallic, grinding and annoying sound introduces the second part, which umbilical cord is giving the two the possibility of “living”. All is more fluid, like a human search for affection, contact, the encounter with the other, but it is the embrace which hits, the caress which hurts. In every attempt, they degenerate themselves back to control, self-destructive and threatening. They are themselves, crumpled and defeated, watching and studying each other. At last, one points to the heart, the hands are rambling in the air, the light escapes, then the end.
A question mark rises from the possibilities offered us by the technological progress, it points itself to the relationship between people and the devastating pressure they discover themselves in, controlled and circulated, in a violent and masked routine. The conclusion offered to us is an apocalyptic point of view, inquiring and evoking. Zaides leaves us with a strong impression. Perhaps the future, imponderable and frightening is closer then what we think.

by Elena De Pascale, B-Motion Blog, August 2007, Italy

‘Adamdam’: human flesh and blood; earth and human are united in this hebrew word: a humane earth...
Arkadi Zaides is dancing his strange theater. He invented it, grew it, ached it and called it ‘Adamdam’. Letter after letter he is building the phrase, a sculptured stream of movements. Actually, ‘dancing’ is not the accurate way to call it - although this ritual, this composition, this way of bodily movement, is almost dance-alike. Arkadi and his partner are moving without a fuss, unhurried as a dream; like honey is poured; like the grass simply grows.
They are not in a rush. The music freezes. Starts again. The audience unhurriedly swallows the movements. The dancers are traveling. Getting to know each other. They are both walking on water - suddenly being electrified. They are either in rhythm or combating. Or perhaps abandoning each other, fathoming the harshness of existence.
Even if you are familiar with dance and pantomime, Arkadi Zaides's style and technique, as are shown in 'Adamdam', will be a revelation to you. He isn't copying anyone, and is not afraid to shock us by revealing his childlike world, and the calm findings of his experiments.

by Inna Sheihtovitch, Novosti Nedely, August 2008, Israel

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