The beautiful mistery that unites us (2021) - photo: Lucía Marote
video: Lucía Marote




You dedicate yourself to dance. You dance, you summon other bodies, you organize forms and energy in space: the result are choreographies. You run, you chase, you fall, you keep running, you know you are after something even though you no longer remember what it is. One day everything suddenly stops. You look back: up to here it has been all movement but, in the important matters, you have been motionless for a long while.

You have repeated the same sequences countless times; there were some days when you felt pleasure, intensity, communion, joy. The rest of them there was just fatigue. You have travelled all over the world, you have studied in several different places and you have tried to keep the best of each one. You have practiced martial arts to learn to balance flow and control. You have moved your hips and sternum to the rhythm of African drums to see if you could feel some form of trance. You have practiced the abdominal contractions with which Martha Graham gave identity to her new American dance and you have dropped your torso to feel the weight, following the way in which José Limón tried to abandon himself to gravity for a few moments. You have made an effort to eat it all.

One night, you kneel in the bathroom and throw up a rest of Cunningham.

And then that day of the stop arrives: you move the furniture away from your living room, breathe, shift your weight from one foot to the other, gently, and you begin to search among what has been left. All that mobility is still somewhere there in your body. You must do something with what has remained.

The beautiful mistery that unites us is an ode to the mobility of the body, to the mobility of thought; to the flow of ideas, of our questions, of the little everyday revelations. It is a dance to celebrate human capacity to imagine and express; to remember and project ourselves. It is a tribute to the power of art and beauty as they never stop appearing no matter how alone or isolated we might be.