On November’s last Saturday night, Kría Brekkan manufactured romance to an audience of dance enthusiasts at Boston, ending the Reykjavík Dance Festival with a glowing passion. Their phantasmagorical incantations, emitted through drums, guitar and voice, made lovers of an unsuspecting crowd. Did you feel it too?
It was like reliving the last scene of Süskind’s ‘Perfume’. Kría Brekkan mastermind Kristín announced that her group would be trying something they had never tried before: a slow dance set. And thus, the waltz began. What we witnessed was a woman pouring out her heart in step to a most sensual drone, and for this we must give her credit for always trying new things, and using her amassed cultural capital wisely. Innovation is usually worthy of respect, and Kristín’s output is distinctively in keeping with its fleeting honour.
We, as a crowd of impassioned lovers, embraced each other, firstly in jest, and then as time progressed, with an enriched, ever-so-delicate emotionality. The sultry of her voice showered the room like a downpour of rose pedals, crimson in hue, bright and beaming. Her soft moan, singing from the speakers, eluded to an innocence typical of her nature, but deep beneath that, hidden away, deep away, is an unspeakable, uncontrived appeal to the senses… a playful lunge towards the tantric chakras of the subtle body, if one fancies the comparison. There is a sort of possession in her eyes… in her, somewhere deep inside, lie the remnants of the spectre of joie de vivre within Anneliese Michel.
It was a sea of subtly inebriated, immaculately dressed and tailored beauties, Icelandic Gentlemen and Misses, diverse in age. For the longest while, no one dishonoured our Kría’s lustre, and dutifully fluttered about. One was only arrested into a standstill after her performance and omnipresent beauty as a spirit and performer became the focus. God, I love people who try, and try hard. One wishes to penetrate their souls…
I only wished that more people had gotten involved. To that end, I say we mustn’t be too deferential to the artifice of anonymity and estrangement to one another in our fair city. We in the community are a family of friends… and that night, thanks to this band, that certain throng resolved to achieve a greater climax, dashing impersonality and insecurities far away, unifying conscience, letting love in.
Thank you, my dear, sweet elskendur. Thank you.
Reykjavík Dance Festival closing party
Saturday, November 29, 2014