Gyula Cserepes: Ultra White

We are sitting around a rectangular space, all four sides of which are covered by semi-transparent wrapping foil. Inside, two figures lying on the ground (Gyula Cserepes and Júlia Gaál-Kovács) start moving to ambient sounds. As the music gets livelier, the dancers gradually get up, their movements becoming more and more wide-reaching and intense. Of course, all of this is only halfway visible to us: they always remain behind the protection of the foil.

Cserepes’s successful dancing career came to a halt during the Covid pandemic, and due to the increasingly desperate state of the Hungarian independent scene, it never really recovered. Last year he finally moved to France to work at construction sites. Leaving the country and/or the profession: this is the current reality for many contemporary dancers in Hungary. Ultra White is Cserepes’s comeback to the stage, inspired by his new, very different life. But is it really that different?

The choreography of Ultra White often reminds of the movements of physical workers, and when the dancers finally emerge during the applause – sweaty, exhausted, wearing protective clothing and paint stains – they very much look like labourers after a long day’s work. But while a labourer’s job is generally considered useful, dancers often have to justify their value – sometimes even to themselves. Ultra White poignantly shows what art can do: it adds beauty and mystery to the mundane. 

Whether the limited visibility of the dancers is frustrating or exciting is probably up to each spectator – I found myself alternating between the two sides. This is where the foil took on another meaning for me: contemporary dance is often considered inaccessible by many – and I feel like it is the artists’ responsibility to try and tear down that figurative wrapping foil that comfortably separates them from the outer world. ●