Yuri Korec& Co.
Slovak choreographer, dancer and certified Rolfer™.
During his career he has cooperated with numerous dance companies around Europe. In recent years he has been mostly active in the Slovak dance scene through his cooperative Skrzprst.
Yuri completed his studies at the Academy of Music Arts in Bratislava. In the same year he co-founded (with the choreographer Marta Poláková) the contemporary dance association DAJV.
Two years later he begin his international career as a free-lance artist. His first engagement was work with Editta Braun &Schauspielhaus Salzburg (Austria). Since then, he has cooperation with Ventura Dance Company (Switzerland), Retina Dance Company (Belgium), Jean Abreu Company (UK), Cocoondance Company and Stephanie Thiersch/Mouvoir (Germany), cieLaroque/Helene Weinzierl (Austria), and Stephanie Schober& Dance Company (UK), among others. He was based in Brussels, London and Salzburg.
Since 1999 Yuri has been teaching contemporary dance technique and dance improvisation and has created pieces under his artistic name Yuri Korec, among them ph-neutral (2005), with T. Halaby, A. Petrovič, the solo new bit-new beat (2006), h a b i t a t (2010), dance solo piece Zero in cooperation with Matan Levkowich a the dance performance 20/20 vision or from-BREAK-on) as well as the films Deň (2004), DARKROOM (2007), and voiceS (2010) created and co-produced by P. Bebjak.
Yuri has recently completed his ArtD. at the Academy of Performing Arts in Bratislava, where he has taught since 2015. He is also a certified therapist of ROLFING®, Structural integration. In March 2011 he became the first certified Rolfer™ in Slovakia.
Choreography: Yuri Korec
Dramaturgy: Ivana Rumanová
Set, lights: TomášHubinský, Matúš Ďuran
Performed by: Eftychia Stefanou, Jakob Jautz, Eva Priečková, Silvia Bakočková, Zuzanna Pruska, Michal Toman, Alica Šaling
Produced by: Skrzprst
The only beings that are not confused, are wild pigeons: they have been confused since the beginning, naturally, and they still fly around in a ghost circle as from times immemorial.
Only if a man gets lost, does the life begin properly.
(Peter Handke Traces of the Lost)
Somewhere, where the body ends and the watching begins, we started with our research with the help of small hammers, spades, hoes, hatchets, brushes and other readily available tools. Often we failed and we will fail again. This does not matter as long as we look the part. The light must fall on us under the right angle. One day we will make an exhibition out of all the scars and scratches in the nearest regional museum. Bruises will be ad hoc and site specific. The only thing we should avoid are gestures that can be read by anyone, including the viewer in the last row. We shall cross our arms on our chests only in if really necessary, or to confuse the adversary. Let´s work hard, with love and even on a loan, because every look that falls on our bodies tears a piece out of it. Now too. We literally feel how we are losing pieces of ourselves. It´s not your fault, and it´s not ours, either. It´s just the way it is. You paid and you naturally expect a performance for your money. We will do what we can, to make you last at least until the intermission. Do, what you can, so that you last at least until the intermission. We will almost burst with the effort. But our breathing will be conscious, deep and regular, not like yours. You must not wonder when you lose your speech in the key moment. When you gulp in vain. When you hear your voice coming out of some deep recess that is not inside you. Let´s breathe as best as we can, otherwise it will become obvious within minutes who we are. Is it barbaric and base or natural and undeformed? We can´t make up our mind. We would like to believe that a noble savage animal is slumbering there, so dangerous that when it wakes up, we will be glad about the pigeon on the roof.
Accidental encounters between the performers might occur on the border crossing dividing the human from the visceral within a human being. But the crossing would have to be found. Is it open to the pedestrians at all? Where is the passport when we need it most? Where does the body end and the behavioral patterns begin into which we try to fit our bodies day after day? Is it at all possible to distinguish between them or have they grown into a single inseparable entity after all those years, a little like a broken leg into plaster? In this piece, Yuri Korec explores the violence we inflict on ourselves to mask who we really are. But also the violence that protects us from ourselves and our surroundings, scrutinizing us almost all the time. It submits us to continuous detailed scrutiny. Instead of removing patterns, Sapiens Territory looks at moments when, in contact with others, our body suddenly surprises, betrays us and seemingly takes a decision without us. If we have the capacity to be ourselves at all, this is the moment. But to make sure we find our way back, we should mark our trajectory.