Resilience in the shadow of war – Avshalom Pollak's latest project

The hour-long dance production, Castor

A recent rehearsal was interrupted when men’s wear designer Doron Ashkenazi walked in carrying one of the costumes (extra-extra small) for dancer Doron Levanon to try on. She felt the fabric between her fingers and danced with it, rotating her shoulders and contorting her body. The look on her face said she would rather dance in a leotard, but the costume would do.

“I’m not a dancer, and I’ve never trained as a dancer,” said Pollak, seated in the empty theater for an interview while the dancers warmed up on stage. Occasionally, he shouted directions just loud enough for the dancers to hear.

“Here, Patrick and Yoni, to prevent what we had yesterday, just squeeze her down. Yes, that’s it. Sababa. Squeeze, and then a kick.” 

Pollak is known for his innovative and experimental approach to dance, incorporating elements of theater, multimedia, and interdisciplinary collaboration. 

Naomi Perlov, artistic director of Tel Aviv’s Suzanne Dellal Center for Dance and Theater, has known Pollak for decades. She said his work has a singular style.

“Pollak has a unique way of viewing dance as a surreal world of fantasy and grotesque. There is something of theater in his work. He manipulates the dancers (in a good way) and invents body language that comes from text – it doesn’t come only from the movement – which makes it interesting. He invents body language with a subtext, which makes it rich.”

Pollak’s choreographic style is characterized by emotional intensity, physicality, and exploration of human relationships. 

This was evident during the rehearsal; the dancers constantly interacted in kinetic poetry of endless waves of interconnection. The music hypnotized the dancers’ bodies, moving in currents of motion and dialogue with each other, often without breaking contact. Sharp angles gave way to curves, and frenetic energy dissolved into brief moments of stillness. The dancers’ movements told a story of human relationships, struggle, resilience, and life’s give and take. 

But that is one viewer’s interpretation. It’s hard to pin down Pollak regarding the storyline, reflecting his aversion to rigid definitions. 

“I tend to think of stories, and then to blur them as much as I can,” he said. “The ideal situation is something that can go in different directions. I don’t like to write in the program or say in interviews that it’s about this or that. It defines, and it restricts.”

When a reporter pressed, he added: “It’s always about the world, things which are part of life in a strange, bizarre way, interactions and relationships between people. It’s a big mystery; I don’t know how it will turn out, but that’s the thing about creating.” 

The name “Castor” provides a hint.

“Thinking of a name for a dance project is a journey,” said Pollak. 

The first name he had in mind was “A Tale of a Beaver,” named for the animal that is an ecosystem engineer that builds dams and modifies habitats.

This does not surprise, given that Pollak came up with names like “Oyster” and “Slug” for previous dance productions. 

“Then I figured that the Latin word for “beaver” is castor, and because this piece involves couples, it’s also the name of one of the Gemini twins from Greek mythology [The other twin is named Pollux]. The title gives lots of possibilities.” 

Music is another field for Pollak’s creative process, driven by his curiosity and imagination, which are the twin personality attributes that impel him. His choices feature eclectic combinations that span genres and eras. 

In Castor, intriguing combinations occur, such as avant-garde Polish composer Ignacy Paderewski with 1930s British dance hall music.

Johann Sebastian Bach is coupled with John Cage, a leading figure in the post-war avant-garde who was also instrumental to modern dance’s development through his association with choreographer Merce Cunningham. 

The lighting will also be unique, the kind used in a television studio. 

“I didn’t think about this until just now, but it connects to the beginning of the process that we did in the universe of sitcom types of productions, and there is something of a sitcom also here in Castor.”

Pollak, who grew up in Jaffa, began as an actor, following in the footsteps of his father, actor Yossi Pollak, who had a long career in Israeli theater and film. 

He transitioned into the dance world after meeting Inbal Pinto, a former Batsheva dancer who had formed her eponymous contemporary dance company.

“Nothing was planned; it just happened, like creation happens. We became a couple and started creating together. I got sucked into the dance world,” he recounted.

The Inbal Pinto and Avshalom Pollak Dance Company was invited to perform abroad and represent Israel at important festivals. The two split up six years ago, each creating their own ensemble.

Pollak began the Castor project in September but soon ran into difficulties. 

“For this production, it was a long creation with stops and changes because of the situation,” he said, referring to the October 7 massacre, which occurred two days after his 54th birthday.

For one thing, the foreign dancers left Israel.

“I fled the country because my family was going crazy,” said Patrick De Haan, a member since 2022 from the Netherlands. He got on an evacuation flight organized by the Netherlands embassy but returned to Israel in December. 

He likes the experience of dancing in Pollak’s company because of its unique combination of physical theater and contemporary dance. 

“You have to think of the kind of character you are doing. It is a specific atmosphere, and I like the funny, dark humor,” he explained.

Of the company’s eight regular dancers, two are from the Netherlands; one is an American who made aliya; one is a South Korean who just recently joined; and the rest are Israelis. 

“So, we didn’t have dancers and had to create something else, and they returned, and it was transforming all the time,” said Pollak, who exudes the vibe of someone who, to use a dancing metaphor, can stay light on his feet. 

He was asked if anything in this production reflects the war in Gaza.

“Sure. It’s a major, major thing that happened. Even if I don’t want it, it will be there. Even if I reject it, it’s still there. I don’t see any way it wouldn’t be,” he said. “Some things get fused inside the creation, and then there is the meeting with the spectators, who make their own connections and interpretations.” 

Despite the setbacks caused by the war, Pollak’s creation Castor emerges as a testament to the power of artistic expression in the face of difficult circumstances. Its journey from its troubled beginnings to its final form proves how well the Israeli creative spirit and resiliency can blossom and flourish. ■