This is far more than a “Crip” dance. “On the surface, Precarious Moves is an autobiographical work, but its deeper meaning extends far beyond my personal experience, addressing some of the most pressing ideological and ecological issues of our time,” states the choreographer and dancer Michael Turinsky emphatically. The work originated from how Turinsky is very much invested in exploring the intersection between disability choreography and ecology: “In which ways could I, as a disabled choreographer, respond to the climate crisis that we all need to face? Soon, it became quite clear that the most obvious area of intersection between disability, choreography and ecology is actually ‘mobility’, or more precisely, the urgency of transforming the ways in which we move through this world.”

A graduate of the University of Vienna’s Philosophy Department, Turinsky coined the term “Crip Choreography”. His works are consistently infused with philosophical thought, touching upon contemporary dance, inclusivity, and even the political and aesthetic realms. In his creative process, he typically appropriates several ideas to construct a conceptual framework, and incorporates Gramscian perspective on art— viewing it as a critical force challenging popular culture and mainstream pursuits, such as the pursuit of speed.”

In a performance that intertwines “dance” with monologues, Turinsky subtly satirises human mobility and migration, the established and systematic organisations, and the relationship between the human body and the ecological environment. This elevates Precarious Moves beyond conventional dance theatre to be more akin to a manifesto. Within the text, the various concepts he references interplay with one another, prompting the audience to contemplate further through absurd comparisons: personal and collective, mobility and mobilisation, randomness and organization, body and environment, speed and slowness, and so on. “The piece attempts to open a space where audience members themselves can develop their own ‘creative process’ of making sense of the ideas presented in the performance.” Thus, he offers no definitive answers or definitions, leaving the audience to imagine through his poignant words and ambiguous physical movements.

Turinsky’s movements are boldly precarious. The word “precarious”, denoting both instability and danger, not only alludes to his own physical state but also points to human movements at large, specifically the impact and potential harm humans cause to the natural ecosystem. “When humans move, they risk harming not only themselves but also the environment. The ‘we’ implies not merely ‘people with disabilities’ but all humankind. Ecologically speaking, humans may be the only species whose movements affect not just their immediate domain but the entire ecosystem. Human movements are inherently precarious.”

Slowness undeniably defines Turinsky’s rhythm. It is precisely within his body movements, suspended between motion and stillness, that visible and invisible barriers create an irresistible force of resistance. He describes these exploratory movements as a reinterpreting choreography through postures that deviate from convention. “For me, this basically means engaging the specific qualities of my own body in processes of de-organising and re-organising dominant forms of movement organisation, proposing how we could move differently, how we could relate differently to space as well as to time.” He is not sure if he could ever believe in something like organic movement, but what he does believe in is movement that is in tune with the needs of himself and others as organisms. One thing very clear is the movement attuned to the needs of himself and others as organisms—this is precisely what must be organised and it does not happen naturally.

During the performance, Turinsky repeated the phrase “I’m back in a second!” regularly. Was it a coded message or just a playful remark? Perhaps he was artfully constructing a sense of time and anticipation, hinting at the contradiction between bodily constraints and sustained movement. He leaves this open for interpretation, allowing the audience to speculate. Ultimately, he cast aside all tools, his body in states of flow, movement, and action. On a final note, he poses the question: “What do we actually long for when we long for freedom of movement?”