Thoughts on Sally Anne Friedland’s ‘A-Peeling’ by Heather DeAtley
Photo Uri Rubinstein
We go back to the Beginning. Back to peeling potatoes. Back to actions we thought we had evolved beyond. An invitation to step into more presence. A modern day Sisyphyean task that never ends. In her potent work, Sally Anne Friedland (along with Guchi Kohan) fearlessly explores our hunger for connection, our longing for meaning and purpose amidst the backdrop of war, conflict, and strife. The tension excavated in “A-Peeling” is viscerally uncomfortable and involves facing hard truths of the circumstances we find ourselves in: We are Sisyphus. Pushing the rock up the hill ad infinitum. But the rock has been replaced by potatoes–an endless supply to be peeled.
I’ll begin with my fall. A fall into Grace. As I left the impactful performance at SAS Studio (in the same building that houses the Choreographers’ Association), I tumbled down the stairs, literally. Lost in thought and contemplation, my legs caved beneath me. My body intuitively softened, my knees fell down and forward, the first to hit the ground mysteriously. It happened in slow motion. Brought me squarely into the present moment so fully, so unapologetically. Arriving fully into my body as I knelt on the concrete floor of the stairs on hands and knees, I took a breath. Inviting my body, space, and time to slow down even more, to re-integrate. To meet once again. I was calm, serene, reminiscent of that time I fell through the ice on a frozen lake in Minneapolis. Sometimes we’re guided to fall, as a portal to coming more fully into our bodies…only to rise. I am Sisyphus having fallen. And still I rise (as Maya Angelou so boldly wrote in her iconic poem). We are Sisyphus having fallen. But still we rise. And still we peel.
Guchi opens the piece sitting on a wooden bench, her back to us. She stands at one point, a wooden cutting board falling between her legs– A Birth. She is hunched over, a repetitive action revealed to be peeling. Each peel falling haphazardly to the floor, where the birthed cutting board sits. We are Sisyphus peeling, peeling, always peeling.
There is a moment in “A-Peeling”–potent in its simplicity: Sally Anne enters onto the stage, clad in a long black robe reminiscent of a Judge. She walks steadily, regally and proceeds to stand over Guchi. Both of their faces are hidden and disfigured behind what appears to be pantyhose. Effortlessly and a bit mysteriously, Sally Anne holds her arms out slightly to the side, eventually revealing the descent of two bamboo plates from her sleeves. She is both magician and Judge simultaneously–a puppet master for the peelers.
The duet unfolds amidst the soundscape of Elgar’s Cello Concerto, rich cello sounds I can feel in the center of my chest and into my bones. Cymatics that soften and expand my heart space. Sally Anne and Guchi Kohan, seasoned dancers and creators, are the embodiment of wisdom, grace, and groundedness. The duplicate shadows on the wall of the small studio offered a glimpse into the shadow realm–another set of dynamic partners in what became a clever quartet. Perhaps these were the shadows of their younger selves, sewn to them like when we first meet Peter Pan. The shadow has its own experience, its own tale to tell, after all. The shadows, for me, added more depth and curiosity to the work–not something consciously planned or curated by the creators, but successful nonetheless. These shadow tales inadvertently and unintentionally told subtle stories through the lighting scheme that complimented the actual physical bodies moving so beautifully.
The rich and multidimensional sounds of the cello embedded within Elgar’s Cello Concerto could be deeply felt in my heart. A plea for feeling more deeply, letting its echoes into our bones. Four corporeal bodies had been returned to their native soil the week of the performance. We were a nation deep in the throes and complexities of mourning. Grieving new levels of innocence lost. Peeling back yet more layers of pain, anger, sadness, and disbelief of the realities we are moving through. And so we keep peeling.
As the music reaches a crescendo, Guchi lays down on the bench she had pushed across the floor at the beginning of the piece. The bench from which she birthed the block of wood that is representative of us all. Sally Anne, dressed in a long black robe, reminiscent of a Judge, enters the space. She looms over Guchi’s body authoritatively. There is a hierarchy unfolding here. Sally Anne smoothly, effortlessly, mysteriously and magically reveals two plates from her copious sleeves. A moment of subtle suspended disbelief that would stay with me throughout the piece–a moment of revealing that which had been hidden that held so many deeper truths.
As Sally Anne proceeds to peel the yam on the cutting board she had placed on Gucci’s belly, a visceral reaction arose. As Sally Anne peeled more and more aggressively, Guchi reeled in pain and discomfort, her hands rife with tension, her legs rising in contraction, her body in a state of resistance to the peeling. I had to look away at one point, as it was eliciting too much discomfort in my own body. It felt like vicarious torture. All the while, the yam quivered on her body.
Through music that evokes a soulful response, striking visual poetry, and the inadvertent tales told by the shadows on the wall, “A-Peeling” is a time capsule for our times. A testament to our struggles, yes. To connect. To feel. But still we rise. We certainly fall. And then rise again. And occasionally we remember to put down the peeler, look to our shadows, fall down the stairs, and rise renewed.
Sally Anne Friedland presented “A-Peeling” on February 22, 2025 at SAS Studio TLV.
Heather DeAtley
Born in the United States, Heather arrived to Israel in 2011 to dive into the rich movement and dance culture here. Suzanne Dellal became her sanctuary as she immersed herself in the rich worlds of Gaga and the Ilan Lev Method. As a former Division I collegiate gymnast and dancer, movement was always at the center of her life but everything shifted dramatically following a herniated disc that required surgery at the tender age of 19 her sophomore year at the University of Iowa. Her journey into the healing powers of movement had thus begun.
Heather pulls from her long history of movement practice to create synesthetic experiences through her words, event production, poetry, tipulim and intuitive movement journeys. Creatrix of Wombyn in the Water and Wombmynt, alongside Body Poetry (Ilan Lev Method tipulim), Heather blends her fascination with somatics, neuroscience, embodiment practices, pregnancy, birth, embryology, and so much more into all she does. A love of all things dance has always underscored these other passions.
Prior to becoming an ima nearly 6 years ago, Heather had helped in coordinating Suzanne Dellal’s International Exposure festival, graduating to positions of international development and promotion with individual choreographers: Galit Liss, Sally Anne Friedland, and Adva Yermiyahu. These experiences served as the inspiration behind creating/curating the Salon Series in which she hosts female choreographers in her living room of Sde Yitzhak (including fellow Creative Writing contributors Yulia Frydin and Ella Greenbaum!). Movement and poetry are at the core of all she does.
Heather looks forward to launching her body-sourced “Poetry of” workshops later this year.