Festival Échelle Humaine 2026

Over the course of three hours, Ewa Dziarnowska and Leah Marojevic, dance solo and in unison across the blue carpet laid out at the heart of the Fondation.
Employing an experimental, durational format, the performance upsets the passivity of installation and the time-delineation and dramaturgical resolution of performance. It steps away from the tradition of viewing dance as an alienated spectacle to instead emphasize its immanent sociability.
In its devotion to the body, This resting, patience proposes sensuousness and dancing as timeless and democratically available technologies of undoing the world, while projecting the continuous present into a future that lasts, quintessentially tender, infatuated, attentive.
The audience can enter and exit at any time during the performance.

In a fictional ghost séance visitors encounter three elderly dancers, Éva, Irén and Ágnes, aged between 90 and 101 years old, and who were part of the development of modern dance in Hungary in the 1930s. Based on recordings of the dancers filmed in their private homes, Boglárka Börcsök and Andreas Bolm have sculpted a meticulous choreography of embodiment that lets their protagonists return on stage through Börcsök’s body and voice.
The collaboration between Andreas Bolm and Boglárka Börcsök began in 2017 with The Art of Movement, a documentary focusing on these three dancers. Through a series of meetings and during filming, Börcsök engaged with them in a process of physical transmission and the reactivation of movement, which continued well beyond the film. From this immersion emerged Figuring Age, which was presented at festivals including Moving in November in Helsinki and ImPulsTanz in Vienna, where it received several awards.
In Figuring Age, the artist duo retraces how each of the interviewed women transformed their life and dance practice to survive the socio-political changes of the 20th century. The performance therefore explores how resilience, silence, and trauma are inscribed in the body and movement.

Catol Teixeira's choreographic research becomes a lament for what slips through the fingers, for what never arrives, for what once was almost here. ODE becomes a rehearsal for farewells. Teixeira’s body, caught between what was and what will be, bears the weight of what was loved and abandoned, and absorbs the tension of what longs to break free.
This solo revisits choreographic remains left along the way: fragments of previous works, procedures, and unfinished experimentations. Alongside their ongoing research into collective composition, initiated in 2023, Teixeira continues to investigate the spaces in between collaboration and the shifting forms dance can take.   
ODE inhabits the raw space where traces linger, where each movement seems haunted by what came before. The residue of a movement, the echo of a decision, the memory of a contact  all remain within the body.Dance unfolds in this tension between disappearance and grace: not to resolve or to conclude, but to stay a little longer in the process of change.

Shani revisits the story of Antigone, a figure of rebellion guided by a deep moral conviction and by her love for her brother Polynices, who has been denied a proper burial.
The myth of Antigone is here reinterpreted through a necropolitical lens, revealing the violence and current systems of power that determine which lives may be protected and which are bound to die. In the face of environmental disasters, genocides, and the inequalities produced by global capitalism, Antigone’s revolutionary spirit carries a message of resistance and radical love.
In M.I.A.S.M.A. The 12 Choruses for Antigone, Shani transforms this narrative into a collective meditation on violence, mourning, and solidarity, driven by the desire to act otherwise.

Through a sensitive portrait of Antonia, an opera singer plagued by melancholy and depression, Black Sun explores with great delicacy the links between the body, the voice, artistic creation and psychological states. Through breath, song, silences and fragments of intimate narratives, the film creates an atmosphere that is both unsettling and deeply moving.
Through discreet and elliptical direction, Laura Huertas Millán crafts a narrative in which the intimate becomes the setting for a broader reflection on memory, vulnerability and the forms of resistance found in living beings.
The screening is followed by a discussion with the artist about her film work, her visual research and the themes running through her works.

Drawing on the work of Afro-feminist thinkers and somatic practices developed from Black perspectives, this practical workshop entitled I Don’t Always Know What My Skin Remembers, combines the body, listening and writing to explore improvisation as a fleeting gesture.