Creative Writing: Reflections on 1|2|3 MIX
An evening of selected works from the last three editions of the 1|2|3 program, the Suzanne Dellal Centre’s platform for new and emerging choreographers.
From the program notes:
“The program serves as an incubator for the next generation of Israeli choreographers, nurturing new voices that reflect the diversity of the Israeli landscape and identity. It accompanies participants on their artistic journey, providing them with the time and space needed to develop choreographic techniques, refine their artistic voice, and explore their creative inclinations. Moreover, the platform offers opportunities in Israel and abroad.”
Is there anything better than that? The great dream of every dancer, of every creator!
There’s something fairy tale-like about the Suzanne Dellal Centre, just arriving at the courtyard or the well next to Inbal Dance Theater feels like stepping into a princess’s palace. Being there, even for a moment, feels like a bubble separate from the city. And with all the support of 1|2|3, every princess immediately levels up to a queen.
So I went to take a peek at the next generation of dance royalty.
I watched the first set of works (there were two programs presented in succession that evening) by the creators: Hila Nachshonov, Avshalom Latucha, Ron Cohen, Ophir Kunesch, and American guest Charly Santagado.
Unlike the other selected participants, Santagado did not develop her solo as part of 1|2|3. She was spotted by Naomi Perlov, Artistic Director of the Suzanne Dellal Centre, and invited to Israel to join the celebrations. In fact, Santagado is one of two international guests performing at Tel Aviv Dance Festival this year, an event that usually presents many international works.
The magic of the Dellal Hall (Suzanne Dellal’s largest theater) entranced me immediately.
From the very first second of the opening piece, Nohow, the stage revealed a surreal and captivating image: dancer and creator Charly Santagado lay at the center on a folding bed, a kind of old fashioned lawnchair, surrounded by a circle of light. Throughout the performance, she used this object in fascinating ways: at one moment it was a railing, then wings, then a small protective fence behind which she hid.
There was perfect synchronicity between her and the object. At some point, she abandoned it and danced on her own. A text by Samuel Beckett, recorded in her own voice, accompanied her, adding to the surreal theatricality and to the alignment between movement, object, and text. I didn’t recognize the text’s origin, and no further information was provided in the program. It left the impression that it was entirely hers. The performance ended with the phrase: Breathe that void. We breathed, she, the audience, and I, into the emptiness.
Would the piece have impressed me as much in a smaller venue, like a fringe space or studio? I think so. She has a rare kind of virtuosity. But the magic of the big Suzanne Dellal stage elevated the work immensely.
The second piece, The Three-Body Problem, by Avshalom Latucha, was performed together with Ophir Kunesch and Roni Cohen.
To me, there was no “problem”, actually quite the opposite.
The three dancers wore identical costumes, unifying them. They communicated in a precise, energetic movement language unique to them, moving over, under, and through their triangle, revealing and revolving as if painting endless loops between them, like boxers without boxing, like an unending flowing conversation, creating shapes in space.
It was a dynamic, wordless dialogue, rich with meaning, and simultaneously full of attentiveness to each other. The movement constantly renewed itself, like a stream of evolving thoughts and emotions. You couldn’t look away for a moment without missing a “word” formed by the body. The intensity of this dialogue grew and grew, until at the end I felt the need to close my eyes for a moment, to detach from the motion and process it.
And just then, the dialogue ended abruptly. They shifted the mood, cleared the stage, and it was left empty, with Crosby Stills & Nash’s Helplessly Hoping playing on a lit, vacant stage.
In Anush, created and performed by Ron Cohen, a magical lighting strip illuminated a path down the center of the stage. He walked on it, hunched over, wearing a sleeveless undershirt and black tailored pants, to the sound of Persian pop music. I liked this “grandpa.” He felt familiar, from family events of all cultures. I already knew he had come to tell a story.
Suddenly he changed, morphing into the other family characters. One moment he was a teenager, the drunk uncle, then perhaps a two year old trying to fit in. All of them existed in this one body, walking back and forth along the light path, perhaps symbolizing life’s journey or the path of a family within one body.
Ron’s exploration of a movement language likely rooted in his home was deeply felt here. It seemed he sought to blend modern dance with “human dance” and to give each character a personal statement. I appreciated the humor and bravery in the piece and the ability to bring a different, raw, untamed, seemingly “untrained” movement language into a trained body.
I would love to see this work in full length. It feels like the journey he began here is longer than what was shown.
In Arba (Four), by Ophir Kunesch, performed with Maya Navot, we see a duet.
Both wear black and move together in silence.
Again, the communication between them is felt. A wordless dialogue. Bodies speaking. I didn’t understand the “conversation,” and I didn’t try to. I found myself letting go of the need to interpret each step. I surrendered to the flow between the two bodies. Their movement language somewhat recalled the second performance, but here, as a duet, the interaction was slower, more attentive, and delicate.
The final piece of the evening was The Miraculous Mandarin by Hila Nachshonov, performed with Mika Sheinfeld and Shira Galinka.
This trio was set to the intense ballet music of the same name by Hungarian composer Béla Bartók, a score that tells a tale of seduction, murder, and love.
The three dancers, incredibly powerful, moved with determined steps together and against each other, like busy workers. They exuded the atmosphere of an assembly line, of the industrial revolution, humans as machines.
What would happen if one broke out of formation? Would it all collapse? Maybe for a moment, but they quickly returned to disciplined precision. Are they the male robbers from the original story? Or are all three the seductive girl? Perhaps both?
The evening ended with thunderous applause as befits princesses and queens.
I left the theater like Cinderella after the ball, the magic and royal lights of the palace still lingering within me.
1|2|3 Mix- Program 1 was presented on August 11, 2025 in the Dellal Hall as part of the Suzanne Dellal Centre’s Tel Aviv Dance Festival.
