Dancing from the Scar with Antón Reixa and Kirenia Danza
- Pauloblue 1
- Apr 21
- 3 min read
Performing arts not only imitate the world—focusing on controversial issues or those worth exploring—but also create a new, live world that affects and transforms us. That potential multiplies when it comes from the body, and in that regard, dance often goes the furthest.
The year 2025 stands out in Galician contemporary dance for crossing boundaries, seeking poetry in diverse bodies—bodies with some degree of “disability”—to transcend it, without denying it, but also without indulging in it or using it for emphasis.
I’m referring to CICATRIZ by Kirenia Danza, which premiered on March 28 at the Germán Coppini Hall of SGAE-Compostela.
We know this is the first co-production of the Galician Choreographic Center in the field of inclusive dance. However, from my perspective, what’s wonderful about this CICATRIZ is that it doesn’t focus on disability—it feels more like a show about ability. The fantastic and deeply real capacity of WANTING IS POWER, as I felt it—emphatically—during the performance.
It may seem like fantasy, much like the three hundred desires voiced in the three hundred verses by Antón Reixa, echoed infinitely by Antela Cid in a sort of secular prayer or ritual exorcism—a dance of this red scar. But it isn’t fantasy—because the dance is there, turning fantasy into reality.
And red isn’t just the blood of the wound, but the passion that lifts us, symbolized by Kirenia’s stunning dress, making her appear like a Pina Bausch-like goddess, capable of moving the cages that risk trapping us—through pain, accidents, disabilities, or even the labels imposed on or assumed by us.
Thus, Kirenia becomes an allegorical figure of strength, power, and beauty—transforming wounds and limits into movement. The other force lies in the contrast with Antón Reixa’s body and presence—charged with a tension that energizes the piece.
Beneath the choreography and visible or implicit disability lies a "subtext" that only resonates from afar—contained expression that magnifies the piece’s magnetic pull.
There are many moments in CICATRIZ that stay with you—images etched in your mind that subtly change your breath and influence your emotions. I recall Kirenia floating around Reixa’s chair—fluid, expansive movements lifting the weight of daily gravity. I found myself breathing deeply, as if before a powerful natural scene. Beside me, another spectator, María Paredes, stretched and moved gently. The beauty of performance is this shared experience—our senses and feelings expanding with those around us.
I also remember Reixa’s entrances, his stillness, charged with intention—an expressive stillness that moved through presence. The mystery of that moment, its contrast with the echoing words of desire, lingered.
And the provocative moments of physical manipulation—when Kirenia moved Reixa’s body, and vice versa—created a heightened intimacy. Whether through touch or proximity, these actions intensified the audience’s attention, drawing us into that raw, physical connection—just as we are moved when watching a cow nudge its calf.
Then there were the movements within the cage-like structures—both metaphorical and physical—contrasting their angular geometry with the softness of the dancers’ bodies. Not only dancing within but breaking out—projecting into space.
The interplay of Bruno Baw’s immersive and pulsating music, Violeta Martínez’s lighting, and Suso Mareque’s mobile structures, combined with the choreographic interaction between Reixa and Kirenia, created a captivating tension. CICATRIZ is not a contemplative piece—its beauty is active, its rhythm holds us.
At its center, like a braid, lie the verses of longing, and by the end, those of scars. Though wrapped in the poetry and artifice of dance, CICATRIZ speaks to something universal. Who doesn’t bear scars—visible or hidden?
This is the heart of the piece: the sublimated connection we can form with it. Like the Japanese art of Kintsugi, CICATRIZ reminds us that scars carry value and beauty—and that we must learn to dance with them, and enjoy them too.