Patravadi Mejudhon, the 59-year-old artistic director of Patravadi Theatre, is an acclaimed actress, dancer and director whose recent works have bridged the gap between dance and theatre as well as the traditional and the modern. Her biography is listed in every encyclopaedia entry for Asian theatre.

Sitting across from her on the terrace of one of the Suzanne Dellal Centre for Dance and Theatre's two cafes in Tel Aviv, is Ohad Naharin, the 55-year-old artistic director of Israel's Batsheva Dance Company whose inimitable choreography startles audiences and fires up the imagination. Study any guide to world dance, and you'll find his biography features large.

Sharing space on the table with their coffee cups is The Nation's recording device.

The first topic of their conversation is "Max", Ohad's newest dance creation. Patravadi had seen the show the previous evening at the Suzanne Dellal, where it was being performed as part of the International Exposure 2007 event showcasing works by both established and independent choreographers.

"It was wonderful," says Patravadi warmly, commending Ohad's investigation of the notions of structure, time and space, in addition to the physical prowess shown by each member of the 10-strong ensemble, who danced without the backing of visual effects or stage props.

Ohad seems pleased by the early positive feedback. "Thanks. The dancers told me that it went well. I'm happy it's a good show."

Having watched many dance and theatre performances around the world throughout her illustrious career, Patravadi picks up that the dancers in "Max" frequently performed rapid hand movements, something that she's seen before in Japanese dance.

"I didn't know that," says Ohad. "I think that's based on research in our 'laboratory' into what the body can do. We experiment with our bodies and with each other. It's not an exploration of what was, but rather a discovery of what is. 'Max' is my most recent piece and it's a culmination of everything that I know."

Patravadi wonders what kind of exercises Ohad uses to train his dancers to move with the kind of  speed and apparently effortless shifts of direction she witnessed in "Max".

Ohad shares his secret, "Even though you're dealing with speed, you need to feel like there's plenty of time. If you're rushing, you're not going to be fast. Another thing is that in order to be fast, you need to be soft. If you let go, you can move a lot faster."

"Do you use any breathing exercises?" asks Patravadi. "Never," Ohad replies. "I know it's important, but it's a by-product. In the way we work, the breathing becomes naturally without having to talk about it. If I see some people not breathing [properly], though, I tell them to let the air out. Because once you let it out, you must take it in."

"It's nice to see a dance performance that's full of pure energy. Nowadays, they tend to be full of everything else, and you don't really get to see the dancers," notes Patravadi.

"During the creation of the piece, I let my dancers do as much improvisation as they wanted so as to get beyond the conventional stuff. I had the framework for the piece, but it took a long time before we set the movements. At the end, many of the movements you saw came out of dancers' suggestions," Ohad explains.

In many scenes, queries Patravadi, it seemed as if the dancers' movements were interrupted and cut short by the blacking out of the stage lighting.

"It's okay to get cut off," says Ohad. "What's important for me is the coherence of the whole."

One of the unique characteristics of Ohad's works is his selection of accompanying music, which always features a wide range of soundscapes. In "Max", Ohad goes a step further by composing his own music under the pseudonym Maxim Waratt. In some parts, the audience even hears his voice.

"What were you saying?" Patravadi asks, wondering if it was Hebrew she had heard. "It's gibberish," her Israeli counterpart answers.

Fittingly, the subject then shifts to "Gaga", the movement language that Ohad created and continues to develop in order to explore new ways of movement.

"It's about teaching the people who use it to recognise their movement habits, the connection between pleasure, pain and effort - to find the explosive power, to find multi-dimensional ways of movement, the sensation inside the movement, the connection with space and each other. It's about exaggeration and understatement. It's about giving the dancer what he needs, not only when he performs my stuff, but other stuff to. Gaga provides the tools for a dancer's improvement, both in terms of technique and in terms of health."

"We now have 30 [Gaga] teachers from different ranks of in different companies. We have about 100 people [taking classes] who are non-dancers with no aspiration to be on stage. They just do it for [their body's] maintenance. We have open classes twice a day, every day except Tuesdays and Fridays."

"Does the government support this?" asks Patravadi. "No, I support it. For me, it's like giving back to society for what it has given me," replies Ohad.

At the end of their 50-minute conversation, Ohad asks about the Patravadi Theatre, its company members and performance spaces.

Having considered all the logistics, they agree that Batsheva could make its debut Bangkok performance there. Watch this space.

The writer wishes to thank Israel's Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Ministry of Science, Culture, and Sports, and the Embassy of Israel in Bangkok for making this meeting possible.

For more information, visit www.Patravaditheatre.com and www.Batsheva.co.il.

Photos of "Max" are by Gadi Dagon, courtesy of Batsheva Dance Company. Photos of Patravadi Mejudhon and Ohad Naharin are by the writer.

written by Pawit Mahasarinand;

published in The Nation on Christmas Day 2007