The Hand of Fate

A clock hand moves without hesitation. It passes one point, then another, and never turns back. That image stayed with me while I was making The Hand of Fate. I liked the quiet certainty of it — something is always moving us forward, even when we have no idea where we are going.

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The dancers enter and leave each other’s paths almost by accident. A shoulder catches someone’s direction, a body arrives half a second too early, a group closes around one person and then breaks apart. I kept these encounters slightly unsettled, so the choreography never feels completely planned from the dancers’ point of view.

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Gradually, the piece became less about “fate” as something mysterious and more about timing. Who we meet, when we arrive, when we hesitate — these small things can change everything that follows. The dance lives in those brief crossings, where one direction disappears and another begins.