DV8

DV8's physical theatre/dance, the last part, the dance between the two men against a backdrop of homophobic bullying.

A look, desire, coyness, a need, ready to turn into feral rage if not met with caution and reciprocated barely, but just enough to walk the tightrope of what they must communicate without ever over or under-stepping the mark. Neither must confirm nor deny; especially not accuse with a denial.

The intimacy, the aggressiveness, the back and forth exchange and negotiation of boundaries; who is on top, who on the bottom, who is dominant and submissive, how honest can they be? Just the same as any romance, how much to give away, to say? How deep to go until you wait for your partner to join you in the shallows- can you wade together? Are you the one in the lead, in control? Is he?

Dance is the perfect metaphor, for where the line has not been firmly drawn, where there is very little to go on except what is forbidden. Drawing an entirely new map of love and joining up out of what there is. Prescribed behaviours/manners that do not fit like two pieces of a puzzle, but must be hewn anew out of established codes not designed for this kind of interaction. In squaring up to each other they also pin down, establishing moments of tenderness and lust within harsh rejection and disgust as they push and pull themselves together and apart. They play both games at once, that of the lover and that of the gaoler, the keeper of social order.

I have never seen anything that describes and dramatises human interaction so beautifully and so perfectly, as DV8's performances. Every movement is a thousand words.