Portrait of Marco da Silva Ferreira
Marco da Silva Ferreira doesn’t fear conflict, he choreographs it
Aïnhoa Jean-Calmettes
Marco da Silva Ferreia started out as a swimmer, became a self-taught dancer, and is now a choreographer. From his first shows to his recently acclaimed C A R C A Ç A, da Silva Ferreira has forged a career by mixing disciplines – a path where street dance meets ballet, and clubbing meets folklore. The Portuguese artist embraces this creative friction and the political potential of conflict.
Stoking fear of the in-between and the unknown has become a defining characteristic of contemporary border politics. But Portuguese choreographer Marco da Silva Ferreira knows that liminal spaces can also be rich terrain for invention and metamorphosis. “I like to be where things collide,” says da Silva Ferreira, for whom the stage is murky territory for exploration. “I’m always on the lookout for boundaries: between dance styles, techniques, geographical areas, historical temporalities...” and gender identities, he might have added. In his 2019 work Bisonte, six gender-diverse performers defy both the virile codes of traditional hip-hop and the affected femininity seen in certain queer communities.
Da Silva Ferreira’s energy-charged performances, often set to a soundtrack of percussive beats that resonate right into audiences’ chests, tend to resemble meticulously controlled collisions. He embraces “friction,” and dismisses both naive universalism and the utopia of “living together” harmoniously. His 2023 work Salão Pavão (2023) – which will be part of a carte blanche devoted to the choreographer in January at the Maison de la Danse in Lyon – invites ballroom dancing into the nightclub. And his 2022 Fantasie minor, a piece for non-traditional venues, remixes a classical Schubert score with house, electro, and dance-hall influences. “All my pieces are based on conflict,” he explains. “As if two tectonic plates were coming into contact.”
Da Silva Ferreira’s career has taken off spectacularly in recent years, a notable departure from the slow-burn more typical of emerging contemporary dance choreographers. His fast rise is even more unusual considering that, until the age of sixteen, he had never set foot in a dance studio. “I’ve had a link with music and movement since I was a child,” he says, though at the time it was something he felt “a bit ashamed of.” He played the piano, but “felt that, as a boy, I didn’t have the right to dance.” It took a burn-out from semi-professional swimming for him to take the plunge. “Sometimes, the sadness and frustration are so intense that you allow yourself to confront certain things that previously seemed impossible.” Soon, he was taking lots of dance classes –, in hip hop, then popping and jazz – and spending his free time practising. Two years later he became a dance teacher and began choreographing his students’ end-of-year shows.
Da Silva Ferreira started gravitating towards contemporary dance due to his aversion to award podiums. “I noticed a beautiful parallel between hip-hop freestyle and contemporary improvisation, but because of my background as a swimmer, hip-hop battles triggered a competitive spirit in me– something I really wanted to get rid of.”
In 2012, he composed his first solo, Nevoeiro 21, followed the next year by Réplica... éplica... éplica, a piece that, in spite of his intention, garnered him several prizes and awards. During this time, he also began dancing professionally for internationally-renowned choreographers Tiago Guedes and Hofesh Shechter. Da Silva Ferreira openly admits to being influenced by both of their approaches to virtuosity, technique, and intense physicality rather than perfectly composed choreographic phrases. For Da Silva Ferreira, playing with performers’ physical limits, rather than being gratuitous, underlines our emotional and narrative limits. And while the dynamics of an ensemble can bring intensity to an incandescent level, he never allows them to cancel out the singularity of each dancer.
This tension between the group and the individual is particularly acute in da Silva Ferreira’s latest works. Based on the rhythmic power footwork from street and club dance, his 2022 piece C A R C A Ç A also conjures up elements of Portuguese folklore instrumentalized by during the forty-year-long dictatorship of António de Oliveira Salazar and draws on the vitality of dance cultures from the African diaspora. “What is a culture when it becomes no more than an empty form, a carcass without meat or life?” he asks. “Can collective identity really be decided and imposed from above by those in power? Shouldn’t we be invited to think about the ‘we’ we’re supposed to be, and to assert it?”
This line of questioning continues in his latest piece, a Folia, choreographed for Ballet de Lorraine earlier this year. Created for an ensemble of twenty-two dancers, it seems to ask whether the center or the periphery is the source of social movement and change. In da Silva Ferreira’s on-stage communities, diversity becomes a source of power precisely because it is neither smoothed-over nor appeased. He shows us a certain idea of democracy – one far more complex, vibrant, and dynamic than the institutional system that bears its name.
Aïnhoa Jean-Calmettes is a journalist specializing in cultural and opinion pieces. She was the editor in chief of Mouvement magazine from 2014 to 2023, and she still directs its “Leaving the 20th century” and “After Nature” sections. She continues her investigations on the connections between contemporary creation and the humanities by writing critical pieces, analytical articles and investigations in the art world. She works with several cultural institutions and often chairs panels and meetings.