Koma Otake brings his latest solo, You, to Danspace Project. “In dancing this trilogy, I engage and converse with various You but one at a time. Friends, parents, siblings, spirits, streets, fields, and objects with personal memories all inspire and create memorable moments,” writes Koma. “The stage is all white. My painting hangs loosely. My movements are stormy and absurd. Dancing with You brings back memories, but a moment later, I dig my head into the ground, missing You.”

Please read or listen below to Koma's Choreographer's Notes as a description of the performance. 

A dance.                                                  


I dance with various “You.” 
A friend, a parent, a brother, a street, and a thing.


I had special moments with each.
I talk to a costume, and everything I bring onto the stage, 
calling them “You.”


Dancing together brings back memories. 
A moment later, I dig my head into the ground, missing “You.”


 “You” is a dance of “I have nothing.”




A scene.
A painting is hung in front of the church altar.
Behind the painting there are four shoji screens.
A chair is placed on the drop cloth among scattered potatoes.




Why potatoes?
The potatoes are bombs. 
They are also the dead bodies on the ground.

Why a red chili pepper necklace?
These peppers protect one’s house from evils.


Why naked?
If I feel aggressive or possessive, how can I calm down?
Take off my shoes.
Be barefoot.
Take off my shirt.
Be naked.


Say “I have nothing.”


Part  1

I appear in a “yukata,” a light summer kimono, but with western shoes on.
I enter the dancing area.
I pick up one potato and throw it against my painting. 
I take off my shoes and walk towards the painting.


              Music: “Back to Black” by Amy Winehouse
              Black is an unnamed place I cannot return from.


I drop the arrow.


“Get up!” I’m the referee. 
“Get up!” I’m the brother of the fallen boxer.
I struggle to stand again.


I am the arrow.
I am the fallen boxer.  


I stand up, take the arrow, and stab the painting.
I dance in a circle, wandering like a ghost.


                  Lights out


Part 2

I take off the top half of the kimono.
I hug a chair and dance with it.
 
                Music: “Ciego,” a tango played by Francisco Canaro
                When a lover left a man, he took a gun and tried to kill himself,
                but he ended up only blinding himself.
            
                I break the chair.

A house is broken. 
I am broken. 


I use a piece of the chair as a cane.
I limp right through a shoji screen.


               Music: “Coqueta,” a tango played by Orquesta Típica Victor


I chant “Go, Otake!”
I cheer for my sons who are abroad. 
 
I tear a piece of paper from the screen.
This is a letter.


It notifies me of the death of my son. 
I get no bones, no ashes, no belongings.
 
In despair, I blow my nose into the letter. 


I move in fury. 
I travel to the battlefield in search of my son.


Finally, I find him.
He is stabbed by an arrow. 
I spray sake onto the painting to disinfect the wound.


I pull the arrow out and break it.
The painting falls to the floor.


I am naked.
I caress the painting.


I shake the shoji screen.
Shaking of earthquakes or bombings.


The screen is broken. 
I, too, am broken.

I have nothing.


I lie down beside the painting.


            Lights out