Much like its tongue-twister title, the performance DIWRIZIENNET – Lost Genealogies, bends norms and folklore in order to foster bodily autonomy and phallic desire.
The word diwriziennet in the Breton language can be loosely translated to ‘uprooted’ in English. Breton is the only remaining Celtic language in mainland Europe, spoken in the most westernward region of France, Brittany. This is where choreographer Corentin JPM Leven hails from. He grew up in a little town outside the region’s capital of Brest. His work engages in queer themes ranging from exploration, identity and social stigma, especially from the perspective of an upbringing without a queer community. “Where I grew up, there were more pigs and cows than humans!”, he said in an interview with the Norwegian queer magazine BLIKK.
Rarely does a performance have an accompanying crossword on the theatre website. However, these types of unexpected elements are not uncommon in the experimental stage Black Box teater in Oslo, characterized by its avant-garde programming. DIWRIZIENNET certainly fits the bill here. This is his third performance here. His first rendition was +/- (2019), a performative piece where he disclosed his own hiv diagnosis. This theme bled into a performance about the pathologization and demonization of the queer body in Birds of Ill Omen in 2021. In that performance he employed a beaked mask, similar to those doctors wore during the Black Plague to protect themselves from the disease with sweet-smelling herbs. In Diwriziennet, the bird beak has been replaced by a horned mask, woven in straw.
Ballerina-in-a-music-box
When entering the stage room, we can see Corentin JPM Leven standing still on a moving board. The board slowly spins him in a slow spiral around his own bodily axis. There is a heightened square stage in the middle of the room, with one single row of seats surrounding it. Leven spins in one of the corners of the stage. He is entirely covered in cloth from head to toe. The cloth extends from a black crown on top of his head to a black veil in front of his face all the way down to wooden, overdimensional shoes on his feet. His torso is wrapped in a corset and a fringed black leather jacket. The most striking part of the outfit, in my opinion, is the heavily bedazzled and embroidered black skirt with a pearl-embroidered white apron. In this clothing constellation by costume designer Ann Mirjam Vaikla, the dancer becomes more of an inanimate object or ornament. It seems fit for decoration but is lacking in agency. That is until he is seemingly revived by the steps of the wise sage creature that is dancer Ulf Nilseng. He emerges from a corner with less ornate outfits, but is connected to Leven through the overdimensional wooden shoes that Nilseng glides over the floor with. His movements remind me of dancing with pointed toe shoes as well as the tapping irons of tap dancers. We see him on the perimeter of the seated rows.
A pipe dream
Gradually, as Leven seems to be woken up by Nilseng, Leven starts to slowly initiate motion. At first he poses, such as a forward lean from a hip hinge. Then, the most Celtic of instruments, the bagpipe, is played by multiinstrumentalist and composer Kim Reenskaug walking in procession in the same perimeter as Nilseng. The sound is distorted in a fluid manner that is not the standard deconstructed approach of contemporary dance sounds, but has a rounder quality. It is quite encapsulating and brings Leven out of the statue-like condition and centerstage. His movement pattern consists of low kicks, raised knees and other folkloric elements that Leven captures in a playful quality in a free-spirited and spontaneous manner.
In a recent conversation with a close friend and fellow dancer, we spoke about the refreshing aspects of non-scholarly dance. Of the spontaneity, power and liberation that lies in the self-defined, non-academic approach to movement. Seeing the passion and determination of Leven in the folkloric part of the performance, revived that conversation in my head vividly. I get a spidey-sense that Leven, who is not a trained dancer, held himself slightly back and that he could have pushed even more, beyond his own threshold. There is seemingly much more to uncover. I do however acknowledge that navigating the stage in a face-covering black veil makes the task somewhat impossible. However, this image of the spinning, in the red shadow by light designer Ane Reiersen, is what stuck out to me.
Phallic Erotica
Leven spins and falls repeatedly. And suddenly, he removes the dark veil, corset, bedazzled skirt and apron. Leven undresses to the point of complete nudity and displays his clothing like it is a forensic evidence display. As he lays down on the floor with his bare behind up in the air, Nilseng proceeds to perform a steamy poem, consisting of sexual encounters between Leven and men with various penis sizes. It goes into detail about their sexual performances, the orifices of Leven, bodily fluids and the phallic desire it invokes. In certain contexts, being the passive recipient of anal sex has been regarded as a weak, feminized position to occupy and thus stigmatized. Contrastingly, being active is still traditionally masculine and not gay. Nilseng’s delivery provides an intelligent comic relief that does not subscribe to that stereotype. It subverts the power dynamic and openly celebrates the joy of occupying the recipient role. It makes the performance culminate in a queer dreamscape.
Early on in the performance Nilseng sings the line “Man kills what he loves most” repeatedly. What immediately comes to mind is the ongoing culture war and degrees of freedom being limited in the Western world. Despite claiming to be the champions of it, the rise of authoritarianism and fascist notions have gone from worrisome undercurrents to grasping power. As Pride proceeds with the culmination of Oslo Pride this weekend, there is a repeated push back against the liberational aims of the movement. Some people tend to think it is too much. Too radical, too sexualized. To the point of banning books with lgbt+ themes and punishing institutions with diversity policies in the States, to the lgbt+ community in Norway facing increased discrimination and fear after the terrorist attack against a queer bar in Oslo during Pride three years ago.
In such a political climate, the freedom of movement, non-conformist attire and unabashedly sexual pleasure, has a clear undertone of queer rebellion. And that is where the performance really comes to its peak, at Levens undeniable quest for sovereignty, over heritage and body.
DIWRIZIENNET – Lost Genealogies
Performer and stage director: Corentin JPM Leven
Performer and choreographer: Ulf Nilseng
Composer: Kim Reenskaug
Costume design and scenography: Ann Mirjam Vaikla
Light design: Ann Reiersen
External eye :Annalisa Dal Pra
Funded by the Norwegian Arts Council and Fritt Ord