Dance of the Paper People | Co. Un Yamada "Apoapsis" | Diary of January 26, 2025

Washi, hanshi, imitation vellum, kraft paper—today I headed to the KAAT Kanagawa Arts Theatre to see "Apoapsis," the new dance work by Co. Un Yamada, which features dancing alongside a wide variety of papers.

Last year, choreographer Un Yamada told me, "I'm currently creating a dance based on the theme of the 'God of Paper,'" but when I saw Salvador Plascencia's book "The People of Paper" on display in the foyer, I realized I had slightly misheard her (though surely, the people of paper must live their daily lives alongside the god of paper).

The diverse expressions that skillfully utilized various papers, including washi, were all full of unexpected surprises, but what left the deepest impression was a scene based on a somewhat simple idea: a group dance performed on top of a massive sheet of imitation vellum spread across the stage.

Unlike the linoleum floors that dancers are accustomed to, their feet slipped on the imitation vellum, creating a discrepancy between the paper and the floor, eventually causing the paper itself to tear. Thrown into such a strange and challenging environment, the dancers, while occasionally touching the paper, seemed to listen to its voice, giving birth to fresh thoughts, one-time-only trial and error, and physical trajectories that would never be repeated.

Every time the dancers slid across the imitation vellum, it wrinkled; the rippling paper would be stretched out again, making a rustling sound, and just when you thought the paper had torn somewhere, a hole would appear somewhere else. The instability of the thin layer of paper sandwiched between the dancers and the floor elicited steps that transcended the dancers' own intentions, and the fragility of the paper, which would tear if they stepped poorly, awakened the dancers' most delicate senses. Yet, the paper was strong enough to support the dancers' movements for a time.

On the other hand, looking back at the music by Satoru Wono, its musical presence was more understated than ever. It was as if the rustling of the paper, born from its contact with the dancers, was the main melody of the day. Here, not only the dancers but even the audience were led to listen to the voice of the paper.

In the choreography of Un Yamada, who has researched indigenous dances, there is a perspective that constructs dance as a way to confirm the relationship between humans and the earth—how one places their feet "on the earth" or how the "earth clings to the feet" when treading upon a land, and thus how to establish a relationship with that land.

The dance performed this time on a new "earth of thought" called "paper" felt half like a dance choreographed by Un Yamada and half like a dance choreographed by the "paper" itself, and the figures of the dancers moving there were like the people of paper attempting to commune with the god of paper.