Spring Dance Concert

[ New messages · Members · Forum rules · Search · Login ]

Page 1 of 1
1

Spring Dance Concert (a "response paper" for my theatre class)

Spring Dance Concert

remo

Date: Friday, 2015/March/27, 0:03 AM | Message # 1

Thursday, February 12th, 2015

Group: Administrators

Messages: 1010

Status: Offline

The goal of any theatrical performance is to evoke an emotional response. MTSU's spring dance concert was, in this sense, a success. The strong emotions I am currently experiencing are disappointment, regret and perhaps even a little insult. Each act made it's own contribution to these emotions as did the specific order of presentation.

The first act, "la mer", was visually interesting. The use of the sheet and the colored lighting provided a sense of novelty. This, combined with the rather enjoyable classical score made for an experience that while not rising to the level of entertaining, at least provided some hope that the nights presentation would not be a total wash. It was with this sense of caution optimism that I went into the second act.

The second act, "Escimmillo's boots", was positively entertaining. The dance was animated, farcical and told a clear story. The dancer is first captivated by but unwilling to approach a pair of boots at the side of the stage. After much hesitation, the boots are seized and prized. The dancer goes so far as to lick the boots. Next the boots are put on and they are shown to have their own will. The dancer dances as though being dragged around by the movement of the boots. Eventually the dancer removes the boots and appears relieved. The symbolism is obvious and the general lightheartedness of the act made for an enjoyable experience.

At this point I had abandoned caution optimism for an outright expectation of a good show. The third act, based on music from one of my favorite musicians could not help but be awesome. I had that very morning listened to my Lindsey Stirling album on the way to school. The dancers appeared on stage wearing bright neon colored tutus and the music began. It was immediately disappointing. While I am sure that tucker theater has the equipment to play the music properly it came out tinny, indistinct and utterly lacking in bass. The whole premise of Lindsey Stirling's work is the juxtaposition of the violin with the deep dirty bass of dubstep. Having been to one of her concerts I can tell you that said bass is meant to vibrate the fillings right out of your teeth. Instead we were subjected to a rendition that sounded like one of those no battery crystal radios you make by wrapping wire around a toilet paper tube and have to hook to a metal pipe for ground. I was so thoroughly disappointed by this mistreatment of my beloved Lindsey Stirling that I cant even remember the dance to comment on it.

I was frowning as act four started but I tried to put that aside and give "dinner party 2.0" a fair shake. The dance began with a table and a girl standing beside it. She begins making violent and nonsensical movements. At times I think she is gesturing towards the table and at others that she is having a stroke. The other dancers appear, cellphones in hand. There is dancing, sitting at the table, scooting chairs across the stage, pulling people away from the table by their hair, pushing, shoving, the slapping of faces and what I eventually gather to be a mimicry of the motions of a thumb on a smartphone. I have no idea what to make of all this. The effect is much like looking at a page full of math homework for a math class you have never taken. One gathers that there is some symbolism and meaning but being unable to comprehend feels frustrated and resentful. Clearly this artsy fartsy shit has gone straight over my head.

The next two acts, "birches" and "le yo kite ale", are similarly abstract. I remain confused and unentertained. People around me are fidgeting, playing with their cellphones and whispering to each other that they would rather be doing something else like their geography homework or the laundry.

The next act, "this side faces room", takes things to a whole other level. The dancer begins upside down with his feet up in the air. As the music begins he slowly, so very slowly, collapses into a heap on the floor. And there he remains. I wonder if he has had a panic attack and cant move out of embarrassment. Eventually he does move. He gets up, dances a little, does some of those slow ballerina balancing poses and collapses back onto the stage and stays there for what must be a good thirty seconds. The music continues all the while. The next part of the performance consists of jogging 15 laps in a circle around the stage.

I am totally engaged by this performance. It is a bit like looking at a train wreck. While I am entertained, I also feel a little bad for being amused at this mans misfortune. As the lights come back on I read the notes for the act.

"Issues of identity play a major part in our lives. Those who reject social stereotypes still cope with being conditioned victims not only from society but from themselves. There are so many forces setup to shame and isolate us. The last thing we would want to do is shame and isolate ourselves."

I then notice that the choreographer is the same person as the dancer and is listed as faculty. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. This guy knows what he is doing. This is deliberately bad. His routine is meant to be a giant middle finger waved in the face of his largely hetero-normative audience. One can not help but be impressed in the same sense as when someone has flatulence so foul that it clears the room. And to extend the metaphor, you hope that it at least made him feel better.

This theme continues with the next act, ballet in c. The dancing is typical of the night but the music is unique. It is discordant. At first I thought it was being performed live and the player had misplaced his hands. No. Every chord is anti-harmonic and jarring. There is a strange warbling to the music that does not keep time to the main beat. As before, I realize that this has been cleverly engineered to be offensive. Like a fire alarm or a well shaken bag full of cats.

The last act is a straightforward ballet featuring thirteen girls in pink dresses. It is entirely un-noteworthy like a glass of water after a particularly bad meal.

The show is over, everyone jumps out of their seats and it is a veritable stampede for the exits. I notice that virtually every last person is getting their ID scanned on the way out as they were only there because some class required it of them. Outside the theater is is cold, raining and the crosswalk is flooded getting my socks wet.

I am quite cross but also impressed. As I said in the first sentence off this report, the goal of any theatrical performance is to evoke an emotional response. Mission Accomplished.