Henrietta Horn






Henrietta Horn’s choreographies challenge the viewer’s imagination. She and the members of her company tell stories, make feelings come alive without words, only through movements, gestures, facial expressions to music. Two sisters are wandering about. The empty stage seems to turn into a dense forest before the audience’s eyes. The piece “Ewi A Malachim”, for which Henrietta Horn uses a rainstick, a Chilean musical instrument made of a cactus, seems like an incantation. The movements flow as soft as water. The 20-minute intermission was not long enough for the visitors’ discussions about the free dancing they had seen. For example “Horst”, a choreography set to music by Bela Bartok.


Henrietta Horn sits on the stage like a child in distress, head down. Her upper body sways, suddenly jerks to and fro, twitches as if she had an fit, then sways again. She contorts herself, gets up on her feet at last, utters a silent cry. “Horst is desperate!” one visitor was overheard saying during the intermission. “No, Horst isn’t there. That’s why the dancer is so sad”, was her companion’s spirited reply. They couldn’t agree. What more than a discussion of their performance could contemporary artists wish for.



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