Winter Variations command the space for 50 minutes with this unabashedly intimate pas de deux proved a breathtakingly emotional journey. The duo featured executing deliriously perfect unisons. Whether marching militaristically on their knees or moving tenderly minuet-style, holding hands and half-hopping, the pair riveted. 

The striking lighting designed by Gat transformed the stage into vertical zones in shades of gray that highlighted subtle mood changes corresponding to emotional contents of the work. The dancers exposed layers and depths of male camaraderie with sensitivity, delicacy, honesty and human solidarity in a way that was ever-so-touching and sad, yet strong. Its effect was breathtaking: At times fierce as the cold Mistral rushing down from the Alps, and at other times gentle as a zephyr. This forceful production is perhaps Gat’s most important work yet. 

Gat’s creation stood out as a glittering diamond among the jewels of the festival Montpellier Danse. 

There is such empathy between Gat and Assaf that when they do the same movement, they seem to move as one. Even when the choreography is different for each—whether it’s pugilistic darting, crouching, or pivoting—it has the same muscular weightiness. 

From the first image, Gat revealed the contrasts at the heart of the work, balancing the tension between darkness and light, sound and silence, movement and stillness. Gat and Assaf, sometimes alone, sometimes weaving in and out of unison, moved with precision into and between the lighted areas, freezing for long, measured pauses before continuing. (…) The work, according to Gat, follows a strict formalistic logic, negotiating elements such as time, space, line, lighting, rhythm, and music. Gat has balanced these components masterfully, particularly the sense of timing - between the dancers, or with the musical phrasing - and the pacing of the dance as a whole. He seems to know just how long to stretch each moment, and when to jump quickly ahead.

Although there are just eight dancers on stage, the way Gat coordinates them has an almost orchestral feel. Individuals and small groups are highlighted with a color and precision that evoke the contrasting effects of different instruments. A taut ensemble of small, nervy steps and weaving arms suggests the high pitch of violins; a couple crossing the space in a low, prowling walk become a darkly vibrating bass-line. Even though Gat's choreography can be spare to the point of minimal, the overall impression is fascinatingly rich.

A surprising amount of sound was generated from squeaking sneakers, footfalls, and exhalations. Gat again showed his gift for lighting, casting a white band across an ensemble tableau, then upending it by fully illuminating the stage. He has a way of taking the conventions of dance and theater, spinning them, and presenting them in fresh, intriguing ways.

Any way you’re inclined to view it, ‘Silent Ballet’ is a fine reflection on the art of the dance.