Ballet Arabesque is.the only state dance compony beyond the system of the ballet ensembles. It comes to Varna Summer Festival with Triptych – a triple bill bringing together contemporary dance miniatures by choreographers Angelina Gavrilova, Arshak Ghalumyan (Staatsballett Berlin), and Filip Milanov. Zhaklin Dobreva speaks with Angelina Gavrilova, artistic director of the company as of this season, about the idea behind the production.
You have had a long journey with Ballet Arabesque – as a dancer, choreographer, rehearsal director, and now as artistic director. How have these different positions changed the way you think about the body on stage?
There has been no fundamental change in the way I think about the body on stage. I would say that, as a dancer, my attention was focused primarily on my own body — on my effort to embody the choreographic text, the idea, and the sensations of the author as fully as possible.
As a choreographer, the dancers’ bodies are, for me, both the means of expression and the material through which I convey my thoughts. As a rehearsal director and Artistic Director, I strive to ensure that the dancers are in the best possible physical shape and concentration, that they feel good, and that they are able to create.
But it all comes down to one thing: the body is the way we communicate and create impact in the art of dance. It is our instrument and our voice, emotion and thought – regardless of the position we occupy.

The performance Triptych is built around three distinct choreographic voices – yours, Arshak Ghalumyan’s, and Filip Milanov’s – coexisting within one evening programme. How do you see the place of your choreography, INFINITY, within this structure: as an independent part, or as an inner tone entering into dialogue with the other two works?
INFINITY is unquestionably part of Triptych. It complements the overall idea and enters precisely into dialogue with the other works — not so much in a concrete way, but rather as a vibration on the same frequency, moving in the same direction.
None of the three miniatures stands in counterpoint to the others. On the contrary, they are in harmony, despite the different “voices” they use. The distinctive authorial signature of each choreographer is clearly visible, but this does not distance the pieces from one another. Quite the opposite – it places them within a common picture, made up of different pieces of a puzzle which, together, create the strongest impact.
In conversations about the performance, musical minimalism is often mentioned as a thread connecting the three parts.
Yes. At the very beginning of the project, Arshak Ghalumyan, Filip Milanov, and I decided to create a shared sound atmosphere, without allowing that to restrict the individual specificities or the musical choices of each choreographer for their own piece. Minimalism was the point at which we met, because all three of us are deeply drawn to this style.
For me personally, the appeal of minimalism lies precisely in that seemingly simple repetition and development of a given theme, without unnecessary display, which leads to gradual accumulation and a powerful emotional effect. I like the way that, with seemingly limited means, an enormous space opens up for perception and imagination, and every small change acquires particular weight and significance.

INFINITY explores the striving for stillness and inner balance. How can such an internal, almost invisible state be translated into the language of the body and movement?
Through extreme expression and physically powerful choreography. Because this is a search and a striving – and that is usually an emotionally charged and dynamic act.
The dancers are continuously on stage for thirty minutes, “living” within that space and passing through different states and catharses. From a purely physical point of view, it is a demanding performance, regardless of the changes in tempo and dynamics.
The four bodies are constantly interacting, charging one another, provoking one another, and complementing one another. This requires strong concentration and commitment on every level. Stillness always comes at the end – if you manage to endure.

If you are often asked how audiences should “understand” contemporary dance, I would ask the opposite: what should the spectator forget before entering such a performance?
The spectator should forget the anxiety and the cliché that art has to be understood. In general, art is something to be felt — to be absorbed with open and clear senses, without expectations and without preconceptions.
It may move you, or it may not affect you. The spectator is a subject, with their own experience, different from that of another person. So let us simply trust ourselves — and trust art.
Triptych on 7 June at 6:00 p.m. at the Drama Theatre – Second Stage
