My Weak Spot

When I first agreed to become a critic, some 17 years ago, I was unsure of my ability to do the job.  I knew I could write but I had no training, and while I had gone to musicals, especially Gilbert & Sullivan for most of my life, my experience with straight theater was quite limited.  I had never studied playwrights like Ibsen or Wilder, or any of the classic French comedies by Moliere and others.  And I knew I didn't like Shakespeare.  This did not seem to make me the most logical choice for the job.

But I decided to try it and over 17 years, I have seen a lot, learned a lot, and even have learned to enjoy Shakespeare.  We see about 60 shows a year.  My comfort zone is still musical theater, and those reviews come quickly when I get home, but I seem to have been able to express my opinion in an entertaining and helpful manner.  

When I read other critics, I realize that I would never pass in a big city newspaper, but I have had a lot of very positive feedback and I enjoy what I do.  Most of the time.

But I do have an Achilles heel.  I know nothing about dance and am asked twice a year to review a concert given by our local Pamela Trokanski Dance Theatre.  We've known Pamela for most of our time in Davis and the first time she asked me to review one of her shows, I confessed that I knew nothing about dance.  She told me that made me perfect to review her shows, which are intended to appeal to anybody, even people like me.

So I've stumbled through several of her shows and though when I re-read my reviews I sometimes cringe, I think I've managed to serve her well.  But I still never feel comfortable.  I'm always happy when her shows come on a weekend when I have two or three other shows to review and am unable to make it to her performance.

This weekend, we went to her latest fall concert, Turning Corners.  I was all prepared this time.  I took copious notes (none of which I could decipher when I got home!!)  The review is written and submitted but, as always, I feel uncomfortable hoping that I got it right.

The theme for this show is exploring what happens when you look at familiar scenes from a different perspective.  You take the same road to work every day but what happens if you suddenly take a different street.  What will you find? 

(The amazing thing about this group of 8 dancers is that the youngest, young Asher Habicht is only 9 years old.  I don't know how long he has been dancing, but this is the third year I have reviewed him.  He's as talented as the adults with whom he dances.  The oldest in the group is Allegra Silberstein, who is 87 and who has been dancing with Pamela for many years -- both Asher and Allegra are on the right side of this photo)

Trokanski's choreography is always athletic and wonderfully synchronized...and also fun.

We enjoyed the show and were surprised to find one of my colleagues from the News and Review also there, with his wife.  They suggested we go out for dinner together, which we did.  Jim and I know each other only through emails and passing in various theaters.  It was nice to get to know them both a bit more personally over Thai food.

I was so focused on getting the review finished and submitted this morning that I forgot to open the door for the dogs after I fed them and Walt came downstairs to find a gigantic doggie toilet extending from the living room down the hallway.  Lizzie looked embarrassed and I apologized to both her and Walt for forgetting.

Body of Knowledge

"I think we dodged a bullet," Walt said to me tonight after he read a review of the show I thought I was supposed to review last weekend. In truth, I had not been looking forward to the show in the first place. The promotional materials all spoke of "audience participation" and this is the sort of thing that makes me run screaming. I am NOT an "audience participation" sort of person. Maybe it enhances some people's enjoyment of a production, but it just strikes fear and terror into my heart. I'm the sort of person who refuses to make eye contact with anybody who is going to come out into the audience and drag some poor hapless soul up on stage to make fun of them. It would be like dying and going to hell for me.

This particular show was a dance show and while I do review dance shows, I freely admitted to Derrick 10 years ago that I have zero expertise in the field of dance. So when she is available, he has, in the past, asked Pamela Trokanski, a local dance instructor to review dance shows. Bruce, the new guy, hadn't told me he had arranged that she would review the show, and he apologized to me for it. I told him that I was thrilled that she was going to be doing it.

When I read her review this evening, I was even MORE thrilled that she had reviewed it. No way in the world could I have written this. It's brilliant, and I wanted to share it with you.

It could have been science, an experiment in human behavior. It could have been art. It could have been groundbreaking. It could have been well-done. It could have been some or none of these, but ultimately it failed, for me, as a memorable experience in performance art.

'Body of Knowledge' is a 90- to 120-minute production, directed and choreographed by Karl Frost, who is pursuing a master of fine arts degree in choreography at UC Davis. The program notes that the work 'sits in the territory between somatic psychology, experimental theater and human ecology.'

It could have been science. Part of the performance is audience participation in an experiment where we were told we could win money. The dancer in charge of my group told us that data was being collected and that Frost had received a grant to study people's behavior.

Was this theater or reality? Was it simply a ploy to keep audience members from walking out, as winners were revealed at the end? Was it an experiment in misdirection? Were we participants in a study that was set in the context of viewing an experimental theater piece?

It could have been art. There was contact improvisation, there were spoken dialogues, there were video projections and recorded sound. All the elements of an artistic 'happening' were in place.

It could have been groundbreaking, but wasn't the night I saw it, at least not as performance art. The program notes implied that a rather edgy experience was about to take place, stating that there might be nudity, or adult content. There was a 'safe' zone established for any audience member who wasn't comfortable interacting with performers. (As my friend pointed out, that only served to make her feel that the rest of the space was unsafe, as if dancers might suddenly grab her.)

But ultimately, there was nothing edgy or new in the work. This kind of experimental theater/performance art has easily been around since the 1960s.

It could have been well done, and some of it was. The scenic design by Gian Scarabino turned the theater space into an interesting maze of small performance areas, forcing audience members to pick and choose what they were viewing. The costume design, by Maggie Chan, was variations of white/cream-colored pants and various tops. Simple, yet effective, it identified the performers and provided contrast, for their movement, against the black floor and curtains.

The video and sound designs, by John Zibell and Sharmi Basu, respectively, helped create various environments that helped construct context or serve as foils for the physical and verbal dialogues. Some of the contact improvisation was very good. I saw two exchanges that were breathtaking. Other exchanges, not so much.

A great deal fell short of its potential. The program noted that the performers were 'individuals engaged in a process of investigation,' and that they were 'less interested in this work as attempt to construct a unified, simple, narrative and more interested in the accident of collage.'

So this became, in my opinion, a crucial element of the work. Improvisation can create wonderful epiphanies of movement and theater, the aforementioned 'accidents of collage.' But while all improvisation has structure, there is still a craft to it, and it shouldn't have an agenda that drives the work.

Unfortunately, there appeared to be an agenda, whether or not it was acknowledged, and that created some clumsy and contrived interactions. There were certainly accidents, but not necessarily ones that made for good theater.

The spoken dialogue didn't always evolve organically from the physical dialogues, and often seemed stilted and unnatural, perhaps because some of the performers found it challenging to both improvise movement and create coherent dialogues simultaneously. An element of really good improvisation is sensitivity to timing. Some interactions went on way too long, and some never developed to a conclusion.

Someone with less experience in performance art might have found it novel. Someone with a background in behavioral science might have found it a unique way to gather data. Ultimately, for me, it became an 'accident waiting to happen,' because there was no real 'aha!' moment.

Of course, as an improvisational work, other performances might be more compelling. I saw opening night and only sections of the entire work. Others will certainly have a very different experience. As my companion, previously concerned about possibly being dragged into an improvisation, said, 'At least we didn't run from the building screaming.'

I can't help but think that if we had, at least it would have been more memorable.

Lucky me--I was at my mother's playing 65 and having birthday cake.