A man stands almost naked in a small arena formed by four neon bars. He begins to move, sliding and shifting through different planes, negotiating the space and himself within it. HIs body is almost waxy in the dimmed light - unadorned, trying to find a sense of self, of belonging - a place of clear conscience. Suddenly from behind an almost identical man appears in a deep yellow national costume, crushing him like a spidery mythological force. The neon lights are eventually pulled into a path and the original dancer, now wearing traditional costume too, begins the slow walk of no choice. In his search for truth, both political and personal, is a great integrity. It matters immensely to him and so to us as well.
Is it choreographer Harry Koushos who stands in a ‘box’ of literally low neon light, a mechanically-moving god-body in skimpy flesh-coloured undies? Whoever this being is he un/folds like semi-human origami to heavy, muffled, beaty electronica. From behind the first male a second (Nondas Damopoulos, I presume) emerges clad in a jacket-topped tutu. Man 2 supplants Man 1. Their ensuing, floor-based duet has a robotic, totemic, trompe-l’oeil quality as spiderish limbs creep out and retract. A loud buzz signals Man 2’s eventual departure and the descent from on high of a colourful, coat-like costume. This Man 1 dons and begins to exit via a path defined by the dragging of neon bars… Created with Mina Lampropoulou, Man II is an experiment, a sketch, a possible make-your-own-interpretation gem.