A Fury Tale
2016

In A FURY TALE Cristiana Morganti does not dance, but sits firmly in her director’s chair. Allowing in this way for a greater critical distance, she entrusts the interpretation of the piece to the presence and physicality of two dancers. Both women are tall with red hair and pale skin, and both look alike but also differ. 

To them Cristiana Morganti confers the task of representing her reflections perceptive, ironic and at times nearly self-deprecating, on the nature of femalehood and its multifaceted aspects: rivalry, friendship, neurosis, candour, unpredictability, mundanity, belligerence, serenity.

The narrative of the piece breathes its life force through these powerful antitheses. It creates a narrative universe which is both mysterious and hypnotic, graciously balancing on the tightrope between realism and fantasy. We are led through this landscapes by the interpreters, who are at times magical creatures, canny and wild, but who suddenly step out of their stage personas to offer glimpses of their true life experiences, as both women and dancers. With generous portions of pure dance that are as powerful and impulsive as they are delicate and subtle, a further layer is revealed, a confession of fragility and uncertainties, dreams and desires.

As the title suggests, one of the leading thread is the feeling of rage, which is revealed in its dualism, in its destructive power or as vital force. 

On a set as white as a blank canvas onto which stroboscopic lights, videos and colours explode like fireworks, the two dancers meet, move and tell their personal tales. The dialogue between the dancers and the choreographer is ever present: it forms part of the story, as Cristiana Morganti interrogates her interpreters in order to reveal their intimate relation between themselves and the director.

Morganti pushes this dynamic further and, as she watches the story unfolding from above, with her complicit and ironic gaze, she walks onto the stage for a brief moment as if to pause the spectacle and reveal to the audience the fragility of the presumed fourth wall. Like the invisible line between stage and audience, we can cross the boundaries between autobiography and artifice, real life and fiction. The frenzied rhythm of the scene-changes, made by stark cuts reminiscent of a cinematographic editing style, is accompanied by rich musical textures that range with equally feverish rhythms from punk-rock to Bach.

Trailer

Press

Cristiana Morganti shows to have cleverly made full fruition of the gifts given to her by her masterful teacher. Testimonies to this are style of movement and ironic subtext, which are attributable to Pina Bausch Tanztheater. But Morganti uses both with freedom and a strong sense of her own individual landscape, displaying in this way the characteristics of a true original language (…) Here her artistic flair grows out of deep roots; the narration becomes mature, far removed from the more obvious self reflections and projected instead towards „the Other.”
With comedic verve and acrobatic zest, Anna and Breanna dive into a double match, where they both play with the representation of a split personality, of a bipolar femininity, explored through aesthetically correspondent physicality but opposing psychological identities (…) With frenetic dialogue and exchanges, the two establish a sense of violent competitiveness, interspersed by gestures of affection and sensuality. Slow motion and moonlit scenes are followed in quick succession with delineated gestures culminating with a stroboscopic striptease.
Leonetta Bentivoglio, Balletto 2000

Choreographer newcomer Cristiana Morganti does not refrain from using irony as one of her most successful narrative tools, but with her new piece she digs deeper and dwells in the mysterious world of fairytales (…) In this original duet format, we find solo pieces of rare intensity: the “Bausch” signature is recognizable, yet there is nothing derivative in this pièce. Morganti triumphs in the use of ambiguity in her language, in the precision of a pendulous confrontation (…) The movement is dizzying, and unpredictability is the Leitmotive of this poignant and gentle duel.
Marinella Guatterini, il Sole 24 ore

Morganti does not dance, as in her previous works Moving with Pina (2010) and Jessica and Me (2014), but with her distinctive ironic touch she critiques in no half measures the tacit game between choreographer and interpreter. Switches of dramaturgic tension, lights, music are all conducted impeccably by Morganti and her creative team. (…) It is clear that with A Fury Tale Morganti has moved into an independent framework, perfectly grown-up in her personal directorial signature.
Francesca Pedroni, il Manifesto

We could expect for the encounter between two dancers to be represented by an array of stereotypes. But this is certainly not the case in A Fury Tale, accomplished new piece of dazzling intensity, coproduced by il Funaro (Pistoia), which has seen its preview this past summer at Civitanova Danza and its World Premier Debut at Gabriele Vacis’ Festival Aperto. Its signature comes clearly from the Tanztheater, with highly valuable moments of pure dance accompanied by delightfully savoury pieces of dialogue. We can see the shadow of Pina Baush only faintly, referred to with plenty of irony and affection, and without over-referential hesitations: Morganti possesses a bag full of tricks, which she knows how to dispense skillful.
Sergio Trombetta, La Stampa

(…) The utmost sincere emotions are delivered through considerable moments of movement: weightless, mercurial, imparted with versatility and nonchalance but always pertinent to the dramaturgy which evolves through the piece “horizontally”, like flickering through a journal. And this is exactly what is so easy to appreciate: the “inward looking” search through the labyrinth that is often the result of a masterful legacy. Here the result is not derivative, but presents us with a theatrical language full of new colours and tones.
Silvia Poletti, del Teatro