A dense and delicate labyrinth wherein the dancers prowl literally inhabiting the music. Behind them, a gigantic web: blades of grass? or piano chords? A motif we find repeated on the dancers costumes turning them into small moving parts of a greater whole, which they continually extend and develop. Stéphane Dreher, Pascale Gigon, Stéphane Hisler and Olga de Soto deliver a complex and poetic piece ryhtmed by fascinating moments: flexible bodies suddenly tensed like the chord of a violin, stretched in all directions, balanced bodies lightly tossed by the wind, like the mobiles of Calder.

Jean-Marie Wynants, Voyage à l'intérieur de la musique, Le Soir (BE), November 29, 1999


The movements are beautiful, yet they do not aim at deliberate unity, and even turn away from the stage. In the margin, beyond the reach of light, every movement stands on its own, wheeling in the space-time of the here and now. And yet connections are created, although it is not clear where and how. The nomadic scripture raises the question whether the spectator is watching an improvisation. Yet the opposite seems to be true when a continuous tension arc appears and at times a musical accent is being picked up on. So, is there a careful choreography? Perhaps it is the spectator who perceives the essence of the process, because he is equally embraced by the rhizome, allowing him to participate in the performance.

Jeroen Peeters, Nomadic Writing, Financieel-Economische Tijd (BE), December 4, 1999


Abstract, fluid, alive and very structured, Olga de Soto's dance maintains an element of risk by leaving choices to the dancers. It evokes that of Merce Cunningham and Anne Teresa De Keersmaker and its great superiority […] is to know how to free itself of its conceptual structures and remain dance: that is to say of the body, of desire, of movement and of space.

Myriam Bloœdé, Irritation and Abundance at The Galerie, Cassandre (FR), February-March 2000


Another rough positioning is the one of Olga de Soto who delves into contemporary musical compositions to extract their sap and render the music visible. On Michaël Jarrell's composition, the choreographic score is sumptuous in its austerity. So austere in fact that it leaves some spectators floored. But whether in the duet other or the quartet ... rhizomes..., the dance seems to penetrate the musical matter in order to incarnate it. The sound becomes body, inscribing in space gestures both firm and supple, often suspended as if in a fixed image. Even when immobile, the dancers are seized in a global movement which causes the musical composition to shine. With silence as a support to bring forth the necessity of the music, Olga de Soto orchestrates an elliptical conversation between the performers that retains its sensuality within a rigorous attitude.

Rosita Boisseau, Iles de danses, un festival d'atypiques ?, Le Monde (FR), December 3, 1999