Cho­reo­graph­er Vol­mir Cordeiro presents the side­walk as a place where everything is pos­sible, where dis­order takes many forms – an expans­ive uni­verse where six per­formers dance with aban­don in a mul­ti­colored, joy­ful and exuber­ant piece. 

A play­ground where the rule would be to no longer feel obliged to look like ourselves – here’s how Trot­toir could be sum­mar­ized; the per­formers – all wear­ing sheer and col­or­ful panty­hose – seem to be con­stantly put­ting masks on and off and trans­form­ing. Vol­mir Cordeiro sees meta­morph­os­is as a way to access free­dom and joy as a mode of per­son­al and col­lect­ive devel­op­ment in the most banal and com­mon of shared spaces. The side­walk is where people, norms and aspir­a­tions wander, stag­nate, and rub against oth­ers. Per­formers bump into one anoth­er, get closer and walk away in a sort of joy­ful and com­mu­nic­at­ive col­lect­ive drunk­en­ness, in this chaot­ic bal­let which delin­eates many tra­ject­or­ies and many pos­sible fic­tions. Sing­er Anna Santango emerges from the rest of the per­formers and reg­u­larly takes the micro­phone to deliv­er lines which are calls to unity and being togeth­er. Trot­toir shat­ters codes and frame­works to the beat of the power­ful bass of the music to give the pub­lic space back to a pro­foundly col­lect­ive body where the oth­er watches us and par­ti­cip­ates in our con­struc­tion, thus rein­vent­ing our rela­tion to free­dom and community.