In FOREVER, Grace Ellen Barkey lets a singer and three dancers flirt with each other and with death, to the sound of Gustav Mahler’s Der Abscheid. Both contrary and moving.

When Mahler wrote Der Abscheid, the final part of his Lied von der Erde, between 1908 and 1909, he knew that his end was near. In the melancholy lyrics, a man talks about his wanderings at twilight. He muses on the beauty and friendship that have become lost to him. But at the same time he considers that life carries on in nature. Sometimes it’s better to laugh at death than to complain about it. Mahler pulled out all the stops to mould an orchestral sound around these words that expresses the smallest change of mood. This is nowhere to be found in FOREVER. Maarten Seghers, wrapped in shabby clothes, stumbles onto the stage like a poor tramp. The setting looks like an insane puppet theatre. A curtain gives us a clue that we are going to see a play. Rather a messy play though, with chairs stacked in an unstable equilibrium, and pendulums of tinkling porcelain by Lot Lemm. Amidst this collection of curiosities, Seghers sings Der Abscheid without accompaniment. Nothing remains of Mahler’s finely chiselled sound. The song creaks and grates. Seghers almost makes himself ridiculous with his unpolished voice. The words hang in the air, despite the warbling birds you occasionally hear or the images of nature projected above the stage. Behind him, Mélissa Guérin, Sarah Lutz and Mohamed Toukabri perform dances. The girls are half-undressed, showing off their shapes and their skills, teasing and flirting. In one instance Guérin tempts Seghers into intimacies that leave nothing to the imagination, but then Seghers resumes his task as the lonely singer. He seems increasingly lonely, especially when he is drowned out by the deafening sounds of Rombout Willems’ synthesisers. Is this all about Mahler’s unhappy love affairs? Perhaps.

A tribute, or perhaps not?

You certainly can’t suspect Barkey of showing exaggerated respect for Mahler. And yet. In a contrary way this show is a tribute to the composer. In his footsteps, Barkey cocks a contrary snook at all the sombre reflections on death. She shows us vulnerability and pleasure at the same time, as two sides of one coin. As if she really no longer feels like sticking to appropriate words and gestures. This makes FOREVER an ode to the life of someone who knows how fragile it is. As fragile as the abundant porcelain that is shattered at the end of the play.