||| RDF ||| like most artist run initiatives – it started as a conversation between a group of independent artists that were frustrated at the spaces (or lack of spaces) available to them for making and sharing their work.
Within months they were throwing their first festival and ||| R D F ||| was born.
In the beginning – it was run on the blood, sweat and screams of the artists who were presenting work that year – plus the artists who had presented works in the years prior.
But then after 9 years ||| RDF ||| went all in on the curation – and invited the brilliance of Halla Ólafsdóttir and Emma Kim Hagdahl to take the reins.
The choreographing duo took the festival for just one year – and put together ||| RDF's ||| first ever curated programme.
Halla and Emma called for a festival that was to be made by every body and any body who showed up. 15 local choreographers — plus 15 slightly-less local choreographers — with the audience diving in upon arrival – made the festival together.
NO BACKSTAGE. NO PROGRAMME. NO FESTIVAL BROCHURE. NO TICKET SALES.
BUT people in a shared space doing, making, saying, thinking, dancing, choreographing, and getting down to it together.
A year later – it was the turn of Erna Ómarsdóttir and Valdimar Jóhannsson – who invited with them Alexander Roberts, Ásgerður G. Gunnarsdóttir, and artist collective Choreography Reykjavík. And continuing on from the previous year was managing director Tinna Lind Gunnarsdóttir.
If Emma and Halla were asking:
what can 30 choreographers do, given one space, 10 days, and an open platform?
Then Erna and Valdi were asking very much literally:
what can fireworks do?
what can hyper spectacularity do?
what can hyper visuality, hyper visibility, and a relentless focus on movement do?
...moving bodies, moving lights, moving balloons, moving fireworks, moving big black screaming chambers that move you...
BEFORE AND BEYOND ALL THAT...
||| R D F ||| is cared and fought for by a board of local choreographers and a broad community of festival supporters.
One small team – with one bad ass fan base. And that's how we like it, o.k.?