William Forsythe, Eidos:Telos, and Intertextual Criticism

At my first performance of Eidos:Telos, in Frankfurt in 1998, I discover a work of penetrating power that is both ordered and disordered. It is febrile at one moment and cool at the next. It is abstract but threaded through with symbolism, and its three acts exude darkness and mystery.There are no obvious divisions into time or place, and the weave of obscure and fragmented allusions means that dramas build and drop away. The dancing bodies create a mass of curves, lines, and angles with astonishing fluency but in few centrally organized patterns. I try to make sense of the diversity of abstract dance that seems rooted in evasive purpose, and symbolism that lends itself to poetics rather more often than to literal meaning. I search for metaphors that will bind images together, but the imagery is delivered faster than the speed of thought. The movement is rooted in ballet, and fleetingly I sense Apollo lingering; warm to a fragment of Giselle and feel a frisson of excitement when a man sinks to the ground and folds over his body, because it reminds me of Nijinsky's L'Aprés midi d'un faune. But though these connections continue to burn in my mind, they are incidentals and personal to what I see, and quickly succeeded by others.But I leave Eidos:Telos feeling somehow different, for my body is pumping with energy and ideas, and colorful dynamics are colliding in my head. It has taken me on a journey of the philosophical, kinaesthetic, and sensual, and I need to experience more.