SUMMER IMPRESSIONS in Brussels: David Zambrano and Mat Voorter's Tictac Art Centre

Tictac Art Centre is an international hotspot for dance improvisation. The Sixth Anniversary week was bursting with dance-and-art creativity while fostering a rich senseof community. The seven days were super charged, with intense workshops every day and vigorous—or wild or goofy—performances every night. The duo in charge is David Zambrano, master improvisor and charismatic emcee, and his life partner, designer/performer Mat Voorter. Together they have built this rambunctious hub of activity and nurtured the growing community that thrives within.

The single large studio is surrounded by a mezzanine from which you can watch while lying in a hammock, a side room that shows videos on a screen/wall, an art gallery, and a shop that sells art fashions, including some with Zambrano’s designs stitched onto plaid shirts. Rimon Guimarães’ vibrant Brazilian-tinged murals overlook the courtyard and offices, making the whole enterprise seem to pulsate with color. During the anniversary week, Guimarães was busy creating new works for the gallery.

Luigi Bisogno & David Ramalho. Photo: Arnaud Beelen

The heart of Tictac is David Zambrano. His presence is vivid in a brazen, enjoy-your- body way. As an improvisor, he is unpredictable and entirely in the moment. His teaching is infused with an edge of humor and Latin rhythm (he’s from Venezuela), but he’s dead serious when getting across his method, which relies on a strong mind/body connection. As an emcee he has an inviting, slightly mischievous air, and his cheerfully eccentric, clothing-as-art wardrobe puts people in a festive mood.

While Brussels has a very active dance scene that includes Rosas and its affiliated school P.A.R.T.S., Ultima Vez, Charleroi Danse, and Meg Stuart/Damaged Goods, Tictac is a training center like no other. There are no placement levels in classes. There is no announcement of who is performing in the evening concerts until the night before—in an Instagram post. No titles, no “premieres,” no critics. Tictac is an incubator. Dance artists from cities like Paris, Berlin, Amsterdam, and Budapest come to Tictac to try out works in progress. The Tictac audience knows they will encounter high spirits, deep physicality, and improvisational chutzpah.

Mauricio Cruz. Photo: Arnaud Beelen

Zambrano’s workshops are a big draw. In his Flying Low classes, the students build strength and awareness through spiraling the body, swerving into and up from the floor. He encourages them to taste and digest movement with the whole body. His Let’s Dance workshop sends people out into the space with the task of Passing Through, which, when you add Under and Over, can escalate into climbing, leaping, and lifting. You can enter the ring by choice, or you can be swept in by eye contact or by touch. The directional current of the group—which could be 80 people strong—is like a strong wind that can grow into a hurricane. Yet you feel an intimacy with the people you breeze past or linger with. Stillness is always a possibility.

Also teaching were Mozambican dancer Horacio Macuacua and Slovakian dancer Peter Jasko, both of whom toured with Zambrano’s electrifying Soul Project a few years ago. Macuacua’s Zumbakukua classes, which foster African-inflected coordinations and grooving energy, are exhilarating. In Jasko’s Deep Movement Consciousness workshop, he gives clues to self-discovery, sometimes in partner work, guiding with questions rather than declarations. And Mozambican singer Lenna Bahule gave a voice and movement workshop. Students responded to all these offerings with a wild, free energy. Perfection was not on the agenda. It was about the imagination of the body.

Thomas Hauert & Mat Voorter. Photo: Irene Occhiato 

More than forty dance artists performed short, often delightfully outrageous pieces over seven evening programs. To give you a quick idea of the diversity, here is a one-minute compilation. Also, I’ve chosen to describe a few highlights:

Monday: As the audience gathered, there was some confusion as to where people should sit. So Zambrano started directing them to move to the side. His semaphoric arm motions slipped seamlessly into dancing, and we realized that he had started his solo. His focus was deliberate, yet he would suddenly surrender to a crazed kind of excitement that propelled him around the space. Martin Kilvady, from Slovakia, pulled his tall, gangly body into shapes that settled unexpectedly into ridiculous moments with his partner—a sofa. Korean dancer Manse Kim, a fascinating improvisor now based in Berlin, had a powerful interior focus yet could spring up at a moment’s notice. (She is first on that compilation video.)

Julyen Hamilton. Photo: Arnaud Beelen 

Tuesday night began in the courtyard, where Iselin Brogeland, from Norway, and Janeth Malupa, from Mozambique, gulped down water from huge jugs, coughing and gagging. While repeating the sentence “You don’t know what water is until you carry it over your head,” they worked themselves up into a water-drenched frenzy that was both desperate and funny. Also comedic were Brussels-based David Ramalho and Luigi Bisogno, adopting personas as competitive athletes ready to pounce on each other, or pulling back suddenly to be hilariously ambivalently affectionate. An absurdist kind of comedy took over when a bizarre thicket of balloons and body parts drew our attention to the mezzanine. When this colorful sculpture moved downstairs, we could see it was Voorter and Thomas Hauert, who then began to disentangle from the clump of panty-hose encased balloons.

Wednesday, the extraordinary young Mexican dancer Mauricio Axayacatl Cruz scampered about at top speed, turning his flexible body inside out. With an almost opposite demeanor, New Zealand powerhouse Celia Hext was so explosive that when she stomped atop a bench, she accidentally broke through the wooden slats and crashed to the floor. A more gentle energy came from six dancers who happened to also be singers (including Bisogno, who again was inherently funny), as they regaled us with a delightful medley, spanning French, Slovak, Italian, and Spanish.

Iselin Brogeland & Janeth Mulapha. Photo: Irene Occhiato 

Thursday evening started with Lewis Cooke asking if anyone had a salve for a bad bug bite. Then he launched into a terrific twisting, tumbling foray to six different songs on Spotify. Diane Madden, former Trisha Brown dancer/director extraordinaire who now teachers at P.A.R.T.S., transformed herself into a spooky, smoky-eyed figure. Stepping stealthily à la film noir, she occasionally turned her head sharply as though hearing whispers. Jasko and fellow Slovakian Milan Herich picked up the pace by cheekily jouncing together. Jasko is so buoyant that when he sprang into Herich’s arms again and again, he was like a helium balloon that wouldn’t stay grounded.

On Friday, we got to see the riveting, spur-of-the-moment mastery of Englishman Julyen Hamilton, whom I’d heard about for years. With Shakespearian majesty and witty surprises, he crafted an interlocking puzzle of text and movement. Aric Master ended the evening with a rousing version of what might be called Bollywood unbound, racing all over in flirtatious, nonbinary fun.

Horacio Macuacua workshop. Photo: Arnaud Beelen

Mozambican dancer Edivaldo Ernesto hurtled into the space on Saturday, pointing at individuals as though casting a terrifying spell. Drawing on his lineage from South India, Rakesh Sukesh let his hand mudras punctuate full body spirals. Paris-based Thalia Pigier bounded onto the stage with 100-watt energy. When the song “Put Your Head on My Shoulder” came on, she coaxed the audience to lean on the person to our left, making a lovely human chain encircling the space. After a break, the lights changed for popular Mozambican singer Lenna Bahule, who captivated us with her lovely voice, body percussion, and storytelling.

On the last day, Sunday, Chilean dancer/actor/musician Lucas Sáez Collins brought his budding rock band to Tictac. His hyperactive cavorting made me think that Mick Jagger has nothin’ on him. At the end, Lucas motioned for us to surround the drummer with arms hovering high up. As though magnetized, we all came together in that final, farewell wave/rave.

Martin Kilvady. Photo: Arnaud Beelen

Looking back on that glorious week, I see that Tictac has unleashed a band of fierce, original, joyful improvisers from different cultural backgrounds who perform and teach all over Europe.

(Disclosure: I too performed as part of the Sixth Anniversary Week.)