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Exhibitionism
MARCH 2, 1998:
COURT 6: BOUNCING BALLS OF JOY
There's just something appealing about dancers trapped in a glass box. Like watching
fish in an aquarium, seeing the dancers in there, in a specialized atmosphere,
as opposed to out here conveys a sense of mystery and meditation. In fact,
I wouldn't be very surprised to discover that audience members for Court 6
are able to enter the same slow-cortical wave state that are known to have been generated
in those who stare into fish tanks.
Which is odd, given the sheer amount of fun that the performers in this Sharir
Dance Company production seem to be having. No angst for these fish, no luxurious
movements in and through an underwater paradise. Instead, these dancers bounce about
a racquetball court much like the little blue balls that usually speed through this
unique performance space. And, like these rubber spheres, the dancers are not afraid
to explore all of the space, from 15 feet up the glass walls to the unplayable corners
and smooth wooden floor.
Which makes it difficult to describe the experience of Court 6. It goes
beyond the athletic shapes, which range from walking up the walls to bounding into
a partner's arms, and enters an ethereal realm enhanced by some Gregorian chant and
the cathedral-like feel of the glass. José Luis Bustamante's choreography defies
summation in conventional terms and begins to enter the realm of magic. But it is
a physical magic, made flesh by William Meadow's sound design, which picks up every
footstep and exhalation the dancers make within the glass box. And the technical
excellence of dancers Marika Chandler, David Chao, Bryan Green, Terry Hardy, Luis
Manuel Narvaez, Carolyn Pavlik, and Liza Travis cannot be overstated. Their immaculate
timing and driving athleticism make this production border on amazing.
Which really doesn't tell you how much fun the whole thing is. The dance may be
serious in terms of the amount of preparation that went into it - including waking
up at cruel hours in order to access this UT Recreation Center court when it was
unoccupied - but it is not serious in the sense that it is unintelligible to those
unfamiliar with more esoteric forms of dance. Nor does it take itself seriously and
come with an air of stuffy high culture that can't laugh at itself.
Which makes it hard to leave the space after the performance has ended. You feel
as if you have been privileged to experience this production. The dancers' joy almost
bubbles from behind the walls and infects those watching. In return, the joy the
audience develops from witnessing this extraordinary piece flows back into the performers
through the glass, subtly reverberating with the magnetic movements happening behind
the walls. - Adrienne Martini
BEAST ON THE MOON: HEAVY BAGS
State Theatre,through March 15
Running Time: 2 hrs, 30 min
Even in the best of situations, marriage is hard. Anyone who tells you differently
is probably a divorce lawyer or Donald Trump. Marriage is more than simple love;
it's also a collection of the baggage of the past, baggage that is generally not
content to sit by unopenedand remain out of a new relationship. Of course,some people
enter a marriage with only a small travel case, others with two tons of Samsonite
that require the skill of three or four porters to get it in the door.
Above all else, Beast on the Moon is about a marriage. Richard Kalinoski's
script takes us back to the early 1920s, when Seta and Aram Tomasian are struggling
to learn how to live together, a process complicated by the fact that they had not
met before they wed. Seta was a picture bride, a wife picked by Aram on the basis
of a photograph and some letters, and Aram saves her from certain death by bringing
her to this country. But that is the smallest of their concerns. The larger problem
is the size of their baggage, a huge pile that is difficult to see around, despite
the couple's best attempts to ignore it.
The packer of this luggage is the Turks. The Tomasians are Armenian and, like
a lot of Armenians who came to the U.S. during this period, they lost most of their
families in horrific ways during the Turks' jihad against this Christian community.
Mothers and fathers were beheaded and crucified, children raped and starved by bands
of Turks who formerly were their neighbors. This Live Oak Theatre at the State production
uses black-and-white slides, projected on the proscenium, to show the horrors these
families faced, a technique that sets a perfect tone for the action that will unfold
as the Tomasians deal with their grief and anger.
Ken Webster gives an incredibly strong performance as Aram, turning this character
who could be amazingly unlikable into a person whose motivations you understand,
even though you may not condone his actions. Boni Hester is a delight as Seta, playing
age 15 as effortlessly as 30 and filling her performance with touching nuance and
grace. Everett Skaggs does the best he can - which is quite a lot - with his cipher
of a part as the narrator who introduces us to the Tomasians and fills us in on all
the details of their life.
Despite these strong performances and Rory McClure's soft but perfect lights and
Buffy Manners' appropriate period costumes, it is Kalinoski's script that ultimately
disappoints. The story is inherently dramatic and points up a historic, bloody episode
about which many never learned. But the script spends far too much time using devices
like Skaggs' narrator to tell us about the story and not enough time actually showing
us what the consequences were. While Kalinoski develops Seta and Aram fairly well
through narration and actual dialogue, the text keeps dipping into a big old bag
of clichés, such as the story of Vincent, played by Brandon Howe, an orphan
who needs a family and is befriended by Seta. This and other gee-willikers moments
just don't ring true and continually kick the audience out of the reality of the
world the playwright has worked to create. It proves once again that playwriting
is just as difficult as marriage. - Adrienne Martini
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