Trance and Tremble: Finnish National Ballet’s T(r)anssi is exceptional 

This is a story of a premiere night at the Finnish National Ballet, channeled by a queer culture vulture with a vivid imagination.

The tram stops at Opera. I’m back, again. Opera and ballet have always fascinated me. At its best a strict rehearsal schedule combines with grace, flow and heartbeat of art  — a power that no words can define.

I strut my way to the Opera, holding the door for elders who are getting up from a taxi. I feel in my bones that this night is going to be uniting for all of us. I feel like all of us are welcomed as we are. I’m ready to experience the rhythm of life first through one of my favorite DJ’s, an underground acquaintance of mine, hapan korppu by living in their beats. Then through my eyes and mirror neurons by watching the hard-working and passionate dancers living in the grand orchestra’s music.

“It’s male toilet”, someone murmurs when they pass by me.

…

What?

They’re gone. They meant well? They’re from a different generation... Still, it lands like slap, and my soul trembles for a millisecond. 

Globally, especially if looking towards the West, being Queer is less and less safe. And even though someone decided to advise me on my decision to choose a toilet, based on how I look - I decide to show up as I am here in the embrace of art which, emphasised in the introduction, will explore the concept of gender as well. 

Alrighty then. I turn on my heels and make my way to some-other-toilet, tightening my corset there to protect and provide, drawing on a ‘stache and heading out for the evening.

We’ve always been here. And always will be.

Otherwise the evening goes on well. The employees of the Opera I interact with are very welcoming and warm. I curiously investigate the energies of the place. Some are here for a fun night. Some are here to show up. Some are here because they always are. And countless other stories I sense. 

I follow the bass as I always do and take in the familiar orange hues of hapan korppu. After greeting and bowing in glee, I begin to fall into a trance. As a person with many diverse cognitive traits, kinesthetic hyperphantasia is one of them. If I imagine a stream of light coming from above, I surely feel it. If I imagine pulling pain from my chest, I surely feel a relief. It feels good to just let your mind and body wander in constant streams of stories, both personal and collective.

The horns ring and it’s time to find my seat.

B

The show begins and I fall in awe and stillness. I see how every muscle is in motion. Movements seem effortless and quicksilver flows in their veins. Something heavy, yet elegantly handled. The first piece, Signing off by Sol León and Paul Lightfoot, demands your attention. It demands you to watch the sufferings, the journeys of letting go. If you’re lucky, you can use the dancers as your mirror. What have you let go of? What did it feel like? I witness how a performer waddles away meekly but before the middle curtain closes, they sharply lower themselves while turning towards us, spiking up their foot like a scorpio ready to sting. Yes, baby, that’s me.

I’m not running away anymore.

The stage is very minimalistic and the costumes are ruled by black and white. I witness a tabula rasa of bodies, gestures everyone recognises on a cellular level: people pleasing, guru worshipping, breakups and even domestic violence that stirs with a sudden kick to the face. That piece really moved me, especially when the arms clasp around the other, like a carnal jail, extinguishing a final flame. The will to even try fades away as the victim slowly drowns into nothingness.

While tragedy happens in the physical, the staging and lighting plays with subtle hues of orange, violet and blue and not by an accident, I presume: these colors symbolise passion, the willingness to find and gain more of life than labour. Finding a connection, whether to yourself or your community or a world beyond (y)our own.

Subtle elements of light and wind on stage really demonstrate the silent whisper of something unseen, but deeply felt.

That’s why we’re all here tonight.

C

It’s time for the next act, Playlist (Track 1, 2) which lights my spark, to say the least. Very dynamic, very bright and different! Something I didn’t expect to see  — so I express my excitement, my enthusiasm, as I co-experience the surge of energy.

“Not here”, someone scolds next to me

…

What?

I turn my head a bit towards them, smile and nod, but keep on listening to my body, my will. And my will is to live in the moment, to co-exist with the wonderful dancers. And see: other people join me. We clap and exclaim. To the beat. At the Ballet.

X

All in all, T(r)anssi delivered me the trance I hoped for. Sure, there were some goblins in the way towards the stream of consciousness but every adventurer needs to be reminded why they’re wandering onwards and not stopping on their tracks. I didn’t mention anything about Half Life, the last piece of T(r)anssi, because it carried themes I’m currently processing, it showed me occurrences I can’t give names to - now. Nevertheless the nameless tides traveled out of me, more or less, in the afterparty; at the altar of hapan korppu. In a safe space I’ve been to before, a space in and in between my own mind.

I’m glad I got to be part of something historical. We all danced and shared the joy and passion, the living fire that I believe is about to be lit again for all of us humans.

Thank you FNOB for your visionary take on Art.

Article: Rosanna Ilo Liuski
Photos: Roosa Oksaharju, Mea Kolehmainen

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