(...) The award for Best Contemporary Dance Performance opens towards the future, bestowed upon “Punto di fuga” (Vanishing Point), an Italian-Russian co-production which, during 2011—the year of cultural exchange between the two countries—brought together the young companies Zerogrammi from Turin and Dialogue Dance from Kostroma.

It was in the Russian city, in February 2011, that Emanuele Sciannamea and Stefano Mazzotta arrived: dancers and choreographers from Southern Italy, trained at Milan’s prestigious Paolo Grassi School and emerging with their agile ensemble. Neither the minus 25-degree Russian winter nor their knowledge of only a few words of Pushkin’s language discouraged them. Together with two performers from Dialogue Dance, they created “Punto di fuga”, an all-male work which, balancing strength and irony, reinterprets Seneca’s Thyestes.

Acclaimed in Kostroma in winter and in Turin in summer at the Teatro a Corte Festival, the newly awarded “Punto di fuga” encapsulates the thought of its four young creators: “Encounter—and therefore exchange—is the only true wealth worth pursuing.” V. Bonelli, Russia Oggi

As part of the activities supported by the Italian and Russian governments for the 2011 Year of Cultural Dialogue between Italy and Russia, Zerogrammi moved its artistic work to Kostroma, Russia, for one month. There it met Dialogue Dance, with whom it began creating Punto di Fuga (Vanishing Point).

This choreography for four choreographers-performers was the first step of a broader project inspired by Seneca’s tragedy Thyestes, of which the second and final chapter, Pasto a Due (A Meal for Two), is also part.

The programme began with a choreographic residency at Stantsia Art Venue between January and February 2011. It continued with the Russian preview of the work on 12 and 13 February 2011 in Kostroma; its Italian premiere at Festival Teatro a Corte in July 2011; and its Russian debut at Festival Tsekh in December 2011.

Punto di Fuga received three nominations—Best Choreographers, Best Creation and Best Lighting Designer—at the prestigious Golden Mask, the Russian award ceremony which, every two years, recognises the best theatre productions presented in the country, in the setting of the Bolshoi Theatre.

The entire project was made possible thanks to the invaluable support of Fondazione Teatro Piemonte Europa, Festival Teatro a Corte, Festival Tsekh, the Ministry of Culture of the Russian Federation and MiBAC.

DIARY OF A CHOREOGRAPHIC RESIDENCY DURING THE 2011 YEAR OF CULTURAL EXCHANGE BETWEEN ITALY AND RUSSIA

(by Stefano Mazzotta)

We are on an almost empty train, scattered through the night. The compartment, dimly lit by Art Nouveau-style lamps, smells of damp wool. The window is framed by drapes with pale, floral 1960s patterns. I have the feeling that I am no longer in Italy.

A glass cup held in an ironwork holder, steaming with boiling black tea, brings to mind stories of austere Eastern rulers and fascinating Romani princesses. As far as I can remember, I fear I have encountered nothing like it on our modern Eurostar trains. Beyond the three layers of worn fabric—once precious—and beyond the misted-up windows, there is a dazzling whiteness. Its light is not afraid of night; on the contrary, night makes it seem even more immense, empty and yet strangely reassuring. Snow is everywhere.

Only yesterday, around a table in Turin’s Piazza Solferino, we were discussing possibilities: a genuine interest in collaboration, a shared project connected with 2011, which would be the Year of Cultural Dialogue between Italy and Russia. Yet I can hardly believe I am already on the slow Moscow–Kostroma train. A night’s journey for 300 kilometres, with a long stop at every tiny station lost in the steppe. So the people at the Foundation really mean business? No sooner said than done. I am surprised, out of habit. Italy moves to far more “reflective” schedules.

How many degrees below zero will it be outside? We will have the chance to test it on our skin; to laugh at the unfamiliar sensation of icicles in our nostrils, at purple fingers after daring to smoke a cigarette without gloves, and at the priceless relief of blessed radiators in public places and hotel rooms—the efficient, extensive Russian gas network!

Stepping off the train in outfits strongly reminiscent of Totò and Peppino in Piazza Duomo, we meet the local Ivan and his colleague Evgeny, who will be our collaborators for a month. Together we will compose the choreographic project for which we crossed the Alps and, across the boundless steppe, reached—with many exciting question marks—the land of sauerkraut and vodka.

It will be a month of battles and clashes, as is to be expected when one takes on the “challenge” of dialogue between cultures. It could not be otherwise. The possibility of losing something along the way, of having to yield it in exchange, of being scratched and bent by debate, of becoming a little less “us” in order to understand the “others” a little more, is frightening. But it cannot be otherwise; indeed, it is the first precious step towards the attentiveness that an encounter with the new deserves.

Awaiting us—and accompanying us throughout the month—will be lethal sheets of ice outside every entrance; long discussions about what to do; the romantic frozen bed of the Volga; differing views on choreography; photographic shoots with frozen lenses and purple index fingers; days of exhaustion and discouragement, and days of agreement and lightness; the support of emails from Mara Serina and Paolo Cantù; countless Italian-style coffees accompanying our reflections; double and triple socks, gloves and scarves; an exciting Russian premiere; a gratifying photography exhibition; and, before all this, the precious opportunity to undertake a new journey of discovery.

Today, back in temperate Turin, its value reveals itself in all its richness. It was a unique artistic and human journey: for the quality and frequency of our “fighting”; for the passion and certainty that offered answers to the work of creating; for the discouragement and doubt that offered great questions demanding answers; for the pride of carrying a piece of Italy beyond its borders; and for the wonder of feeling, at least a little, more without borders.