February 24, 2025
AMSTERDAM
★★★★★
By: Francine van der Wiel
And there they go again. Defiant, tireless, battling against the storm force generated by three roaring wind machines on the right side of the stage. It’s an endless struggle, a resistance against intangible forces.
In the 1980s, Krisztina de Châtel’s choreography was often shaped by obstacles that forced dancers to interact with their spatial environment. These barriers took many forms, the most famous being the earthen wall in Föld (1985). Time and again, the dancers faced these challenges with relentless determination. Most often, these were physical, spatial objects. But Typhoon is different. Here, the pure force of the wind itself becomes ‘the enemy.’ The Hungarian-born choreographer created this work in collaboration with visual artist Peter Vermeulen. De Châtel’s deep frustration with cycling against the wind aligned perfectly with Vermeulen’s central artistic theme: visual representations of sound-producing energy.
Aviators from a Bygone Era
In Typhoon, De Châtel’s movement language is minimalist to the core. Patterns shift constantly—patient, persistent, almost obsessive—while the steps subtly evolve. Together, they form an extended movement phrase, beginning with bodies leaning forward off balance, arms stretched tightly behind them, fists clenched—a recurring motif in De Châtel’s oeuvre. And, of course, for the first half-hour, the wind machines remain ominously still at the side of the stage.
From their starting positions, Nina Dijkman, Mark van Drunick, Gabriel Parra Guisado, Juliette Jean, and Angelica Villalon begin to move with careful deliberation. Clad in black, wind-resistant overalls with blue belts and goggles resting on their foreheads, they resemble aviators from a bygone era. Once in motion, their feet seem glued to the floor in slow, sliding steps, while their outstretched arms sweep forward and back. They move straight ahead, then diagonally in canon, shifting through the space before regrouping on the left side, where the next movement sequence begins: knee lifted, torso extended, arms swinging upward.
This continues for half an hour, with an energy level as if the typhoon has already begun. But only then do the machines switch on. Now the battle becomes real—hair whipping, costumes pressed against their bodies by the force of the wind. The movement themes become ever more dynamic. At some point (when?), the hands have opened. They slice powerfully through the air, carving wide arcs, circling like frenzied windmills, endlessly moving forward. It’s a poignant image of steadfast resistance, evoking inevitable associations—not only with the war in Ukraine but also with the struggle against the elusive forces of technology and politics.
“More than ever, we are living in a violent storm. With Typhoon, I want to convey that we must continue to fight for harmony, beauty, and cohesion in everything that happens to us,” De Châtel states in an accompanying text. Due to illness, she was unable to attend this stunning revival. Yet, without altering a single step, the purely formal, rigorously structured concept has transformed into a deeply emotional outcry in today’s context. After 38 years, Typhoon has only gained in power.
Dance: Typhoon By Krisztina de Châtel, performed by Introdans
Seen: February 22, ITA Amsterdam
Touring until May 10
