“The Lost Boys”
choreography by Kevin
Williamson
CounterPULSE, San
Francisco
August 21st,
2014
Multi-discipline
performance; dance theater; new/mixed media. Chances are if you are headed to a
modern dance concert in 2014, it is actually one of these genres that you will
be seeing. Choreography and movement mixed with sculpture, costuming, visual
art, sound and/or videography has certainly permeated today’s dance field.
Some of these
interdisciplinary attempts fare better than others. Too often, the connection
between additional performance elements and the dance is at best, tenuous. The
stage gets peppered with extra ‘stuff’ that is not relevant, relative nor
resonant. And in most cases, these extras actually distract from otherwise
sound choreography. But even though multi-genre dance clearly hasn’t won me
over yet, even I can admit that when done well, the results can be
extraordinary. And quite often, what separates a ‘successful’ interdisciplinary
dance work from the rest of the pack is that the choreography and the movement
retain top billing, while the other entities play an integral, albeit
supporting, role.
Kevin Williamson’s “The
Lost Boys” is an example of how mixed-disciplined work can go very, very right.
Currently at CounterPULSE in San Francisco’s Mission District for a
two-performance run (with the final show this evening), “The Lost Boys” is an
evening-length mens quartet combining dance with vocalization, props, text and
lighting. “The Lost Boys” tackles a very specific narrative – the 1980s AIDS
crisis and how it affected those who grew up during that tumultuous period. A
complex, layered theme, such as this, actually lends itself well to a
multi-genre performance style. The choreography and movement were the primary
mode of communication, speaking to the high level, deeper narratives: the
search for love and companionship, the experience of being in community yet
still feeling alone, the attempt to traverse a personal journey amidst outside
forces. The ‘other’ theatrical entities assisted the dance by providing framing
and context, most important, placing the action into Williamson’s chosen
historical era.
Harsh, stark fluorescent
lights signaled the beginning of the work as the four men took the stage. Once
in place, they began a lengthy arm movement phrase - expansive yet controlled
motions in very tight proximity. Their physical juxtaposition implied intimacy,
but the four never actually touched. Here was a community that was close, yet
still maintained purposeful distance from each other. And this space between ‘the
real’ and ‘the veneer’ would come back again and again, but in creative new
ways.
Early on, the musical
influences set the stage with some well-chosen selections from mid- to
late-1980s. Williamson opted to combine recordings with live singing/speaking
of the lyrics. Though there was snippets of eighties choreography present in
the dance itself, it was really these song selections (in each form) that made
the time period clear.
In the middle of “The
Lost Boys”, the cast embarked on the main modern dance sequence. From
Williamson’s choreographic construction to the performance of the elements to
the narrative undertone, it was flawless. This portion was all about strength –
strength of composition, strength of technical ability, strength of character.
Club dance mixed with classic grand pliés in first position; Capoeira
influences fed into re-imagined renversés; and full split jetés walked
alongside pedestrian tasks.
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Photo: Taso Papadakis |
Throughout the piece, a
spitting motif recurred, and it wasn’t pantomimed - the dancers actually spit
at and on each other. At first, the spitting was a little shocking and frankly,
pretty gross. But because Williamson utilized the dance theater tool of
repetition, after a while you were anesthetized to it. Getting used to seeing
the spitting on stage also allowed the narrative to emerge. The spitting was
violent, powerful and desperate, and above all, very personal. It encapsulated
real levels of fear and frustration that had nowhere else to go. Text-work also
revealed this internal/external struggle. A trio repeated the sentence “you’re
fine” over and over. What started as internal reassuring quickly morphed to
external objectification. Repeated sauté jumps in parallel passé also spoke to
the difference between reality and pretense. The cast jumped high in the air with
pasted on smiles that instantly dissipated once they landed. And in a surprise
move, Williamson closed the fifty-minute work with an incredibly tender duet.
“The Lost Boys” came full circle with this final statement of vulnerability,
care and attention after much conflict, strife and discomfort.
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