“Eva Recacha has created a world that is at once grotesque and beautiful, unsettling and deeply moving—a dream worth stepping into.”
When I first heard about Eva Recacha’s The Picnic, inspired by Hieronymus Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights, I couldn’t help but think back to my introduction to Bosch as a child. My father’s 1969 Deep Purple record featured an image from Bosch’s infamous triptych, and I remember staring at the grotesque bird-headed prince of Hell swallowing sinners, trying to make sense of that strange, nightmarish world. That early fascination with Bosch’s surreal and chaotic universe prepared me, in some ways, for the dreamlike and unsettling experience of Recacha’s work.
Much like Bosch’s painting, The Picnic opens with a sense of distorted humanity. Despite the dancers’ human forms, their initial movements felt grotesque and unnatural, as though they were creatures just emerging into existence. Their slow, deliberate passage through the hollow middle of a large, round object seemed symbolic of birth or initiation, marking their transition into a new, surreal world. Once through, the dancers crawled along the floor, flattening themselves as though existing in a two-dimensional plane. Gradually, their movements gained depth and dimension, oscillating, drawing us into a space where the boundaries of the human body and its emotions felt blurred.
The group dynamics were captivating, as the dancers moved between moments of unison and scattered individuality across the stage’s stark white expanse. At times, their movements were playful and collaborative; at others, they exuded an eerie sensuality or a detached, humanoid quality. The interplay of synchronicity and chaos mirrored the tension in Bosch’s painting, where earthly pleasures coexist with darker undercurrents of sin and consequence.
The choreography was enriched by moments of spoken text, adding layers of meaning that hinted at a shared yet fragmented experience. The oranges, used as recurring props, became a visual metaphor for women—round, tactile, and symbolic of abundance or fragility. At one point, I found myself wondering whether the dancers themselves were metaphors for collective emotions, embodying the visceral sensations and experiences of a community of women.
Recacha’s collaboration with scenographer Kate Lane and composer Alberto Ruiz Soler brought The Picnic into a fully formed realm. The costumes, simple yet striking in their white and orange palette, tied the visual language of the piece to its themes of duality—light and shadow, simplicity and complexity. The soundscape was equally powerful, fluctuating between ethereal harmonies and dystopian beats, creating a world that oscillated between blissful serenity and the raw energy of a rave.
As the performance unfolded, moments of care and celebration emerged from the dreamlike chaos. The dancers’ interactions felt tender and communal, embodying themes of cooperation and mutual support. These moments brought warmth and humanity to the surreal feast.
The Picnic is a bold and vivid exploration of utopia and human connection. Much like Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights, it invites us to reflect on the complexity of human desires and relationships. Eva Recacha has created a world that is at once grotesque and beautiful, unsettling and deeply moving—a dream worth stepping into.
Thank you for the review. When I saw the listing I wanted to go but couldn’t make it.
Btw, did the performance have nudity?
Hello Kari, worth double checking the show’s listings to confirm what warnings were available for the production