São Paulo Showcase

The Recs had the great opportunity to catch half of the eight productions brought over to Edinburgh as part of the fringe festival’s São Paolo Showcase. (Our apologies to the four we didn’t get to see; time literally flies by in August, and far too quickly.) Here, in alphabetical order, are the shows we were fortunate to catch.

Border Bodies ★★★★★

T.F. CIA de Dança dance company is a collective, and Border Bodies is a stunning, passionate piece that blends the styles of each of its seven sensational performers, who start standing still with fingers clinched as the audience files into Assembly @ Dance Base. Eventually, the septet start to slowly move body parts — what isolations! — as Carlos Ranoya’s superb soundtrack fills the floor, yet they don’t look directly at each other or the audience for the first half of the piece’s hour-long running time. During this long section Border Bodies is most akin to Jerome Robbins’ infamous Watermill, only Brazilian, not Japanese, and also far more engaging.

Eventually the dancers physically meet up, at which point they continuously climb over each other, each dancer a symbolic mountain to learn. Once all seven are connected and individually included, joy finally erupts, as do the beaming smiles from dancers and audience alike. Director Igor Gasparini asks how we all can connect despite our differences, and the result is a choreographic triumph.

Circo Valise ★★★★

Great things often come in small packages, and such is the case of the 10-minute wonder that is Circo Valise being performed various evening times at Assembly George Square Studios. A small suitcase is opened, and out comes a handmade micro-circus, complete with a trapeze artist, clowns, and an adorable flying elephant. Created and performed by Eduardo Salzane, Circo Valise is magical for children, who will find by enraptured by the tiny spectacle, and for adults, who will admire the quirky craftsmanship and cleverness of the enterprise.

Whale Fall or Song to Dance With My Death ★★★★★

In a festival of shows that feels like snacks, Whale Fall or Song to Dance With My Death is a complete meal, a soul-filling contemplation of mortality performed by performance artist Bruna Longo in a gorgeous, muraled upstairs room at St. Cuthbert’s Church. Audience members have to walk through the church cemetery to get to the entrance, where they are met by Longo, who explains that she’s been thinking about death since the loss of her father. His passing has greatly affected her, and since she can’t make theatre at her own funeral, she’s going to make it in advance.

For 80 captivating minutes, Longo tells stories through words and movement, sharing thoughtful examples of her investigations of funeral rites around the world, including unexpected traditions in Japan, Indonesia, and Tibet. “Grief is personal,” she says, “But mourning has always been collective.” She wants to be open to experiencing death, but she wonders how she’ll fare: “I’ve never died before.” Nonetheless, she knows her time will one day come, as it will for us all. “Life is a chronic condition; the prognosis is the same for everyone.”

The Last Drop ★★★

The Last Drop is an off-the-wall, darkly atmospheric play written by Dante Passerelli and co-directed by Passerelli and Fernanda Zancopé that begins and ends with quotes from Hamlet.

And just as things weren’t right and bright in Elsinore Castle, rottenness rules the apartment inhabited by Cynthia (Zancopé) and Gilberto (Ernani Sanchez), the quarreling couple deeply concerned about the smelly, drippy stain on the ceiling that appears to be bordering on collapse.

A handyman comes to ostensibly repair the hole, then disappears. The neighbor upstairs can’t stop crying. Worst of all, an important guest is coming to see the apartment, and the couple’s fortunes ride on that guest finding the place satisfactory.

The Last Drop has the uncommon Fringe issue of needing to be bigger and longer. A larger, more expressionistic set would properly magnify this play’s points, and the script needs more room and time to breathe. There’s potential for this work to be major. It’s just not there yet.