Eva-Maria Magel
21.06.2024

Beyond Words

FRANKFURT – Choreographer Yasmeen Godder and singer Dikla stage a danced pop concert with “Shout Aloud” at the Bockenheimer Depot, moving between ecstasy and sorrow.

A pop song can express exactly what one feels, whether one understands the lyrics or not. An earworm gets the body moving, the voice singing along, and a healing effect unfolds. This is how you must imagine the staged pop concert “Shout Aloud,” which choreographer Yasmeen Godder, pop singer Dikla, nine musicians, and especially eight dancers are now unleashing at the Bockenheimer Depot.

However, the premiere audience didn’t fully respond to the friendly invitation from one of the dancers and Dikla to do just about anything in their seats—dancing, swaying, clapping, or singing even though the applause at the end was immense as is appropriate for a pop concert, even if the sung language was unfamiliar to many. “Shout Aloud” might also have been a journey of remembrance for some of their own youth, when one would play the same songs for hours, whether in sadness or overwhelming joy.

That’s also what the eight women dance to—women whose origins, ages, and dance styles differ significantly. In their glances at each other and the audience, in their touches, in repeated movements, there is empathy, a key concept in Godder’s work.

Dikla, first in a voluminous black evening gown, then in a mini dress reminiscent of Tina Turner, performs songs from her debut album, which has been reworked for Godder’s choreography. The musicians fling an analog mix of 90s pop and Middle Eastern melisma into the wooden structure, with the dancers sometimes singing along, while at other points it becomes abruptly silent, leaving only the bodies to take over. The human sounds, devoid of meaning, morph into animalistic noises. These leave dark traces, with crude actions like running and screaming—a feature seen in Godder’s earlier works, familiar to those who have followed her at the Mousonturm over the past 20 years.

At times, her dance slips into mere illustrations of the melody and rhythm of the eleven songs, but it doesn’t disturb; it finds its way back. Tongues hang lasciviously from mouths, legs are never fully stretched, and symmetry is deliberately undermined, creating feelings of disruption in this dance. These disturbances can be embraced just as much as the invitation to follow the intense emotions that are generously offered here.

Almost unnoticed, the dancers change their transparent, fluttering costumes. As they move from light, airy garments to more flowing, colorful tulle until the explosion of bright colors at the finale, it becomes part of their self-revelation and surrender.

From the very beginning, the dancers’ feet pound like rifle shots, and their voices swell into siren howls. Their wild dances, the chains they form, are reminiscent of the Nova Music Festival and the events of October 7. Particularly since the unusual security bag checks at the entrance serve as a grim reminder that an Israeli company in Frankfurt requires special protection these days. It also reminds us how shaken the work of Godder and her colleagues must be, as they have been engaged for years with Arab-Jewish artist and women’s groups.

There is an enormous movement in this production, which seals a certain standstill. Following masterpieces like “Out Of Order” by Forced Entertainment, with which the cooperation between Schauspiel Frankfurt and Mousonturm began in 2018, Godder will likely be the last of the major international co-productions with independent ensembles, at least for now. This news comes at the same time as the early extension of Schauspiel director Anselm Weber’s term until 2030. The Depot will not be available next season, as Weber recently announced during the presentation of the 2024/25 season program. One can certainly feel that life in the house is always a good choice with Godder.