Fuerza Bruta: Meaningless Sights & Sounds
June 20, 2010
courtesy of Fuerza Bruta Press
For nearly three years, I walked past the Daryl Roth Theater every day on my way into work and reminded myself that I should see Fuerza Bruta, the show by Diqui James that originated in Argentina and has been performed at the Roth since 2007. Last week, I finally saw this fragmented, mindless spectacle. I’m glad I did, because now I can honestly tell others who are considering seeing Fuerza Bruta (Brute Force, in English) that they can skip it, unless they’re entertained by one or more of the following:
-Being herded around and told where it’s permissible to stand, which to me, does not qualify as audience participation
-A club-like scene with predictable visual stimulation, techno music, and mediocre choreography
-A man endlessly running on a treadmill who gets violently shot in the chest (don’t worry, he lives), without ever learning why or from what he’s running
-Performers who repeatedly smash Styrofoam over each other’s heads
-Jumping up and down while a DJ, looking ridiculous in a George Washington wig, sprays you with a water hose
courtesy of Fuerza Bruta press
The plot-less performance, which mainly took place overhead while the audience stood on the floor for the duration of the show, strung together special effects and a few technical feats set to a constantly thumping beat. The most original section involved a clear pool that descended from overhead until it reached just above the audience’s heads. Four female performers splashed around, slid in diagonals across the pool, and made rippling designs with the water. This went on for far too long, and though the performers looked like they were having a ball, it became irritating to stand and watch without being invited to join the fun. Perhaps this was why Fuerza Bruta was so unsatisfying. The performers were having much more fun than the audience, and sadly, jumping up and down didn’t transport us into their world.
I have immense admiration for the creative team – for their ability to come up with some of the more intriguing concepts – and especially for the hardworking crew members who directed the audience and ensured that the show ran smoothly. But I pity the myriad tourists – and handful of New Yorkers – who are impressed by Fuerza Bruta and view it as well-crafted art. In truth, it’s one-dimensional, uninspiring entertainment.
Like this:
Strange Action Comes to PS 122
May 30, 2010
Isabel Lewis, photo by Arturo Martinez Steele
I first saw Isabel Lewis perform last year with Lewis Forever at the New Museum – as part of a memorable Performance Club outing – and was intrigued by the unpolished, improvisational nature of the show. From June 3rd through 6th she’ll present STRANGE ACTION: a solo in three seemingly unrelated parts at PS 122. The evening-length premiere is about “the peculiar act of performing”. Here’s the description:
Isabel Lewis resurrects her depiction of Mr. T, using him and a few other icons as the unexpected reference points of a discussion by way of performance about the strange act of performing itself. Making minimal use of stage design and media elements Lewis tightens the focus around the presence of the performer in an anti-gesamtkunstwerk, using language and movement to frame her interplay of associations and disassociations. Drawing on a range of references from B.A. Baracus to Beckett, Lewis weaves a circuitous narrative about altered states, imagination, connectivity, process, and fiction.
STRANGE ACTION will be performed June 3rd through 6th at PS 122: Thursday through Saturday at 8 PM, Saturday at 10 PM, and Sunday at 6 PM. Tickets can be purchased online or by calling 212.352.3101. PS 122 is located on First Avenue at 9th Street, NYC.
Big Eater at The Kitchen
March 11, 2010
Andrew Dinwiddie and Neal Medlyn in David Neumann’s Big Eater, photo by Paula Court
An inebriated David Hasselhoff, a Big Mac, Giselle, and pretentious panel discussions – these are just a few of the sources that shaped David Neumann’s Big Eater, which was performed at The Kitchen last weekend and continues through this Saturday. This may sound like a recipe for big laughs, but Big Eater is a dark, depressing work filled with piles of language and movement – not to mention a pile of chairs from floor to ceiling – that become denser and more disorderly as the work progresses. Self-destruction, discovery, frustration, and knowledge are themes that arise through dialogue, random remarks, varied movement sections, and a video featuring Frederick Neumann (David’s father) as “the man in the woods” who wanders through a thick, slightly ominous forest of trees.
What stands out most in the work is Neumann’s superb use of repetition. The six dancers (Natalie Agee, Andrew Dinwiddie, Kennis Hawkins, Neal Medlyn, Weena Pauly, and Will Rawls) echo one another, reverse roles, and layer spoken text to powerful effect. They are an eclectic bunch and have strikingly different stage presences, making the movement sections even more intriguing. Using sound from a video of David Hasselhoff being reprimanded by his teenage daughter for drinking, Neumann creates a re-enactment of the scene with Medlyn and Dinwiddie portraying Hasselhoff’s messy condition as they lay on the floor and eat a Big Mac. Later, other performers repeat dialogue from the video, contrasting the painful conversation with fuller, sweeping movement. In spite of all of the interaction among the performers and the repetition that pulses through the work, in the end, everyone seems isolated and alone, as if they were wandering through a forest with no clear path. It is sad and bewildering, even maddening at times, but it is an undeniable part of the human condition.
Tickets to Big Eater can be ordered online or by calling 212.255.5793. The Kitchen is located at 512 West 19th Street, between 10th and 11th Avenues.
Natalie Agee, Will Rawls (on table), Kennis Hawkins, and Weena Pauly, photo by Paula Court
Actors Learn Gaga for The Miracle Worker
February 12, 2010
photo by John Dugdale
William Gibson’s The Miracle Worker opens on Broadway today – the first revival in nearly fifty years. A recent New York Times profile of Abigail Breslin, who plays Helen, revealed that the actors trained in Ohad Naharin’s movement language, Gaga, in order to prepare for the physical demands of their roles. Lee Sher, who cofounded LeeSaar The Company in 2000, oversaw their training throughout the production. Here’s an excerpt from the article:
One key to Ms. Breslin’s preparation has been Lee Sher, the production’s physical-training adviser, who works with Ms. Breslin and Ms. [Alison] Pill [who plays Annie Sullivan] for an hour before each rehearsal. An Israeli dancer and actress, Ms. Sher has trained the two women in the art of Gaga movement, in which performers tap into energies and emotions to develop a physical language that circumvents habits of communication based on dialogue. Ms. Sher said these movement techniques are well suited to Helen, noting, for instance, the crucial scene when Annie and Helen match strength and wits at the breakfast table. The scene runs to four pages of dialogue-free stage directions in the script.
“For scenes like that we have to help Abby’s body find a new way of being — the way she moves, the way she sits, the way she reacts to Annie — so that the audience will not feel so familiar with the ways that Abby’s Helen acts and reacts,” Ms. Sher said. “Abby, Kate [Whoriskey, the play’s director] and I want the audience to feel that Helen could do something unpredictable, wild or scary at any moment.”
It’s wonderful to see artists outside of dance embracing Gaga and recognizing how it can strengthen the body and raise awareness of conscious and subconscious movement. In preparation for the non-seeing, non-hearing role of Helen Keller and the other characters who interact with her, Gaga is undoubtedly beneficial.
Anna Deavere Smith: Let Me Down Easy
January 5, 2010
Anna Deavere Smith, photo by Sara Krulwich
My first performance of 2010 was the last performance of Let Me Down Easy, a riveting work conceived, written, and performed by the fiercely talented Anna Deavere Smith. After interviewing many people over the past eight years regarding their thoughts on death, dying, the power of the body, health, and health care, Smith portrayed twenty individuals and their exact words on stage with great nuance and sensitivity. She revealed the humor, distress, pessimism, optimism, anger, and energy within each person, and allowed the audience to become more aware of their own humanness and vulnerability. Several of the individuals portrayed are well-known – Tour de France winner Lance Armstrong, writer and activist Eve Ensler, former Texas governor Ann Richards, and heavyweight champion boxer Michael Bentt – while others included patients, physicians, a minister, a Buddhist Monk, and Smith’s aunt.
Smith’s portrayal of choreographer Elizabeth Streb (who was in the audience) was hilarious. Wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a striped jacket, she whirled through a story about how she (Streb) caught on fire at a party, capturing Streb’s animated way of moving, speaking, and gesturing. Apparently, it was “one of the most profound experiences” of her life. In other portrayals, Smith revealed the growing disillusionment of Dr. Kiersta Kurtz-Burke, who was working at a public hospital in New Orleans – without electricity – shortly after Hurricane Katrina struck; the conviction of Eve Ensler regarding society’s effect on young girls’ self-esteem; the fear of failure that motivated Lance Armstrong to win the Tour de France, because failure as a cancer patient would have meant death.
Considering how devoid of emotion the topics of health, health care, and the body can be these days, it was refreshing to watch Smith infuse her portrayals with warmth, honesty, and real emotions that the individuals expressed in their interviews with her. Let Me Down Easy was a poignant and powerful production that will hopefully return to the stage again in the future.
y first performance of 2010 was the last performance of Let Me Down Easy, a riveting theater production conceived, written, and performed by the fiercely talented Anna Deavere Smith. After interviewing many people over the past eight years regarding their thoughts on death, dying, the power of the body, and health (and in some cases, health care), Smith portrayed twenty individuals and their exact words on stage with great nuance and sensitivity. She revealed the humor, distress, pessimism, optimism, anger, and energy within each person, and allowed the audience to become more aware of their own humanness and vulnerability. Several of the individuals portrayed are well-known – Tour de France winner Lance Armstrong, writer and activist Eve Ensler, former Texas governor Ann Richards, and heavyweight champion boxer Michael Bentt – while others included patients, physicians, a minister, a Buddhist Monk, and Smith’s aunt.
Smith’s portrayal of choreographer Elizabeth Streb (who was in the audience) was hilarious. Wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a striped jacket, she whirled through a story about how she (Streb) caught on fire at a party, capturing Streb’s animated way of moving, speaking, and gesturing. Apparently, it was “one of the most profound experiences” of her life. In other portrayals, Smith revealed the growing disillusionment of Dr. Kierstra Kurtz-Burke, who was working at a public hospital in New Orleans – without electricity – shortly after Hurricane Katrina struck; the conviction of Eve Ensler regarding society’s effect on young girls’ self-esteem; the fear of failure that motivated Lance Armstrong to win the Tour de France, because failure as a cancer patient would have meant death.
Considering how devoid of emotion the topics of health, health care, and the body can be these days, it was refreshing to watch Smith infuse her portrayals with warmth, honesty, and real emotions that the individuals expressed in their interviews with her.
