A table, a pen, paper, a sound desk. In front of this reduced setting – a minimalistic classroom within a classroom – Sahra Huby uses MOVE MORE MORPH IT! to transform into ever new forms of the “self,” which she explores with a deeply energetic physicality set to a fantastical sound language uniquely developed for the piece.

Written by Julia Opitz


Every breath is audible, every movement becomes sound. Sergej Maingardt developed an artistic sound system that enhances Huby’s voice and estranges it trough specific effects. Sound and movement engage in dialog, they interact, contract and layer one another, constructing a third level of play. “We often talked about the very specific, comic-like sense of humor that emerges either through the process of setting oneself to music or through the fact that movement is immediately followed by the sounds that absorb it,” says Konjetzky. In a highly dynamic way Huby more than once transforms her repertoire of movements into challenging rhythm parts. At the same time, Maingardt uses Rap samples, abstract electronic fragments, and deep bass sounds to undermine conventional listening habits. This results in a performative interplay between precise physicality and intense musicality, both of which turn into a spatial experience.




Konjetzky physically expands on textures and figures and in doing so exposes their fleetingness. At one point, the dancer Huby inhabits super powers, at another she becomes a hissing lion or consciously makes use of clichés to imitate the physical appearance of a “girlie.” Yet neither of these three different identities ever exhibits an absolutely clear profile. “I, for instance, like the idea that I cannot simply build my own identity. This also raises the question whether identity is an emotion, a condition, an outfit – what does it actually mean? I guess that I could also say that I am just a couch for an hour. It was this idea that I found exciting about this topic.”




The (young) audience is taken on a “journey” by the performers and loses itself in thoughts, emotions, and memories. What strikes Konjetzky is how immediately the children’s reactions become visible: “they are vivid and very direct. That’s how we receive feedback at each and every moment. What they look like, how they move, at which moments they don’t watch. Adults see dancers –in this case Sahra – as dancers, they focus on their bodies and check how muscular they are. I get the sense that these things are irrelevant to children who often experience the performance more intimately. That, I feel, makes a big difference.”

Synesthesia, concert, dance, performance. In MOVE MORE MORPH IT! Konjetzky speaks about (fixed) images of the body and certain roles, about collectively influenced designs of the self, about individual outbursts, ascription and openness. In doing so, she consciously leaves room for blanks and associative free spaces. MOVE MORE MORPH IT! is contemporary dance for a young audience that challenges, discusses, and produces new forms of perception. The audience from the elementary school at Türkenstraße – who escape their daily school life for a short while – seem to be magically attracted and deeply moved by the experience.





“I saw a werewolf from the third Harry Potter book. And when Sahra picked up the table, it reminded me of Pippi Longstocking.”

“During rehearsal we were allowed to speak and hiss into the microphone – that was really cool. And we pretended to be werewolves and tried out different voices.”

“I noted that Sahra moves very freely and that she had a lot of fun.”  

“I though it was a great idea not to take music and eating icecream, but instead to choose music and dance. And the sounds were exciting.”

“Sahra was full of anger or sadness or seemed like she was just sharing a sandwich with her friend.”

“For me, Sahra was in a jungle and could transform anytime. She was at once a happy child and a tiger.”

“I really liked how she danced, rehearsing something like that takes a really long time!”

“I didn’t understand some of the things. But in my heart I somehow feel that I did understand them. Just not in my head.”

“The music reminded me of how I often sit in my room and listen to the radio.”

“I felt great and cool at once while watching the piece.”