Maa: A Ballet by Kaija Saariaho

(Miller Theatre, 25 September 2010)

The prevailing laws of physics, which make life possible, are highly improbable. Even though any other, potential, universe would seem unrecognisable to us, statistically it may deviate minimally from ours. Often, contemporary art represents such potential notions of beauty, plausible and minimally different from the received notion---but ugly. Ugly art helps one understand the native by portraying the foreign. Such art is akin to a poem submitted for publication by a skilful alien, unaware that his language resembles C++ more than English. Such an inhuman work makes a human appreciate the human---as Luca Veggetti's ballet does.

The dancers' movements are strained and serve no purpose. Why move at all? Perhaps, the bodies do not move by their own volition. The characters are absently self-absorbed. They move and touch out of habit, betraying no emotion. Their bodies are vacant. The sadness of the characters' situation is in their inability and unwillingness to fully utilise their bodies (the dancers' skill and effort notwithstanding).

When faced with such an alien production, one can try to appreciate the alien artist; one can even grant him  the benefit of the doubt by supposing that he finds the work beautiful, and, then, try to appreciate that beauty; or one can seek the missing component that is necessary for beauty. The attraction of the first and second alternatives in encounters with contemporary art is less than in encounters with foreign cultures; a culture has its constituency, a piece of art may not.