“bLUr” was part of the Crossing the Line Festival 2025. (Courtesy: Maria Baranova)
Framed in a black box theater, two performers entered from opposite ends of the stage to meet in the center for an extended embrace. It was a tender, albeit mundane way to start the show, but that is where the polite and familiar ceased in Kimberly Bartosik’s “bLUr.” For the following 45 minutes or so, “bLUr” became a dizzying performance that tested boundaries and pushed the extremes of human emotion.
Part of New York L’Alliance’s Crossing the Line Festival, “bLUr” ran at New York Live Arts from Oct. 2 through Oct. 4 and offered audiences a portal into the taboo. Charged by sounds of cars colliding, sirens wailing, and pulsating heartbeats throughout the show, five dancers frenetically used up every inch of the stage, running, leaping, falling, and writhing in the space and sometimes with each other. Breathing heavily and sweating profusely, the dancers rolled on the floor together, stripped off shirts, and frequently simulated intercourse: they were erotic to the point of grotesque.
Climactic moments of what appeared to be intense pleasure shifted to intense expressions of pain and suffering. One moment, the dancers were faux fornicating, then they instantly morphed into tortured contortions. Repeatedly, one dancer was still on the ground while the others encircled them and mourned, leaning on each other for support. Taking turns, the dancers cried and comforted one another in moments that looked like a wake on speed. Toggling back and forth between two polarizing emotions produced a palpable discomfort.
In this state of oscillating delirium, it became apparent how similar pain and pleasure could be. They shared similar physical characteristics: tears, sweat, screams, and convulsions. The most extreme forms of pain and pleasure, dying and sex, were shrouded in vulnerability and intimacy. The public often prefers both of these events to be experienced behind closed doors. “bLUr” doesn’t just open the door but knocks the entire wall down. There were no more barriers. The audience was fully exposed to the raw primal moments of humanity.
The dancers – and the audience – barely have a break. There were moments of slowed down movements and attempted resuscitation of the dead, but they often shifted into erotic gyration.
Ultimately, it’s hard to recall separate acts and scenes. Keeping true to the show’s name, the performance transitions blend together. As the final dancer departed up the steps offstage, the room finally went still.
About the author(s)
Nicole Schaller is an arts & culture writer and current candidate at CJS's MA program.