Drawing from historical form to imagine a new canon of dance, including everybody and any body.

Conceptualised by Trajal Harrell, it’s hard to pin down exactly what The Romeo is. While ostensibly categorised as a dance, The Romeo is also a work that is completely fictional, and expanding beyond mere choreography to imagine a history and legacy. In the space of the theatre where The Romeo is performed, it becomes reality, a ritual that has been passed down from generation to generation, one that can be shared by anybody and everybody.

Performed by the dancers of Schauspielhaus Zürich, as well as Trajal, The Romeo begins from the moment the audience enters the space. With the house lights on, the dancers are onstage, warming up, talking to each other, at times even wandering into the seating area. It seems that the formality of the theatre has been thrown out, and every audience member is given a tongue-in-cheek slip of paper explaining what the Romeo is (and is not), with figments of truth, and far more illusion. It purports itself to be derived from Ancient Rome – a massive black Colosseum-like structure looming in the background seems to lend some credence to this.

But these performers are not here to battle each other to the death. Instead, they are here to welcome you into the space, immerse you in a communal, shared experience, and turn the fictitious history of the Romeo into reality. The dancers begin by introducing themselves one after another, along with a fun fact about themselves, ranging from the mundane, to the absurd. We’re lulled into a sense of comfort, feeling that these dancers are closer to us than they actually are, and ready to be introduced to this strange dance they’ve been touting.

What happens next is unexpected – The Romeo adopts a faux fashion show format, with the dancers taking turns to emerge from the ‘Colosseum’s’ entrance donning a smorgasbord of outfits. These vary greatly – we see an assortment of silhouettes, ranging from the oversized to the skimpy, regardless of gender, often with clothing that clashes in their contrasting prints or styles. Whatever it is they’re wearing, they strut, walk and model them with confidence, claiming the stage and space for themselves, and not giving a damn what anyone else thinks.

It’s outrageous, it’s subversive, and somehow, there’s something powerfully healing and optimistic about it, in seeing the pride these dancers of differing bodies, skin tones, and genders display. Often, Trajal is seen waiting at the side, nodding in approval or simply moving along to the beat, simply watching and partaking in this work he’s co-created with the dancers. Most significant of all is when the dancers come together, moving as a single ensemble, united amidst their differences, indulging in the absurdity of it all. There is no need for specific interpretation or meaning, so long as the freedom is felt, and there is celebration in the diversity and oddity.

From elements of vogue to Japanese butoh, even the sheer variety of inspirations from these disparate dance styles seem to represent the power of shared imagination. There is no one clear source or technique being displayed, often fleeting, seen briefly in their expressions or bodies before melding it with something from a completely different continent or era. In that sense, The Romeo also seems to encapsulate the idea of ‘realness’ in the ballroom scene; where initially it might refer to the idea of passing and being accepted as normal, under this work, ‘realness’ involves the manifestation of shared imagination into reality, where the act of performing these fictions allows them to become fact through us as the audience witnessing and accepting their existence.

With that in mind, The Romeo ends up a thoroughly unique work that refuses definition. It is a work that is made whole and validated by the audience present, crafting its own rules while never taking itself too seriously. Presenting its own version of a communal, pastoral dance, it is both a parody and rebellion against the canon, to showcase power in unity, beauty in individuality, and beauty in the absurd. There is shock in the sheer level of gall, awe from the ferocity in their movements, and quite simply, joy from watching these dancers leave it all on the floor, complete and total liberty to be their truest selves.

Photo Credit: Orpheus Emirzas (Featured Image), Dajana Lothert

The Romeo played from 18th to 19th May 2024 at Victoria Theatre as part of Singapore International Festival of Arts 2024. More information available here

SIFA 2024: They Declare runs from 17th May to 2nd June 2024 across various venues. Tickets and full programme available here

Staging, Choreography, Stage design, Costumes Trajal Harrell Artists New Kyd, Frances Chiaverini, Vânia Doutel Vaz, Maria Ferreira Silva, Rob Fordeyn, Challenge Gumbodete, Thibault Lac, Christopher Matthews, Nasheeka Nedsreal, Perle Palombe, Stephen Thompson, Songhay Toldon, Ondrej Vidlar Stage Design Nadja Sofie Eller Soundtrack Trajal Harrell, Asma Maroof Lighting Stéfane Perraud Dramaturgy Miriam Ibrahim, Katinka Deecke Audience Development Mathis Neuhaus Touring, International Relations & Production Björn Pätz, ART HAPPENS Production Assistance Camille Charlotte Roduit Stage Design Assistance Eva Lillian Wagner Costume Design Assistant Mona Eglsoer, Monika Annabel Zimmer Production Intern Maimuna Barry Inspection Aleksandar Sascha Dinevski