Using Schwitters' Ursonate , Kentridge's piece is part performance, part lecture and part symphony. Looking at her, however, one gets the impression that she is none of that.
In front of a projection, Kentridge stands on a podium. He opens a book and behind him another book also opens. This is the last time the performance takes the form of a conventional lecture. From the first line: “Fumms bö wö tää zää Uu, pögiff, kwii Ee”, he launches into a symphony of audiovisual performances. Kentridge is accompanied by stop-motion visuals of his own creation, some echoing the words and phrases he speaks, others filling in gaps in our understanding. The gibberish turns into debate, while body language – the slight movement of a finger or the extension of the palms outwards – helps form the argument. Everything intensifies, becomes a frenzy, before reaching the cadence – a magnificent collapse of rhyme and reason – orchestrated by New York soprano Ariadne Greif and dancer Peter Kuit. Amid the noise, chaos and explosions, conclusions are drawn, or dropped, before being re-started again.
More careful than the Dada performances of yesteryear, Ursonate nevertheless pays homage to them by demonstrating how the language of the absurd can still be useful in approaching a world that has no meaning. This event, which is an extension of the red bridge project 20-21, of which William Kentridge was the guest artist, is part of the rainy days contemporary music festival directed by the Philharmonie.
