hell is empty and all the devils are here

by heytherewildflower

DISCLAIMER: I am 23 years old Girl. I like to do and think things that I think are rabble rousing things to think and do. I think I am creative. I think all of life is a tragicomedy. For instance if you punched me in the face for being a douchebag, I’d laugh through bloody teeth. Do it

CLAIMER: I take full responsibility for my mind full of thoughts and my gut full of feelings (instincts).

I am super duper sick with the whooping cough and the plague ETC and supposed to be packing up my apartment so of course I am writing a blog post. The most appropriate time to write blog posts is when you’re supposed to be doing other things that are hard, unpleasant, or necessary or ALL OF THE ABOVE! wheee!

On Thursday, I took my sick ass out to see The Tempest Replica by Kidd Pivot. The reason I went to see it is my high school friend, Wladamiro A. Woyno Rodriguez (who is like half russian, half colombian, half canadian), was doing the lights/tech/awesome flashy stuff for it! He contacted me out of the blue and beseeched me, we meet for coffee.  If am not an opportunistic cunt, then what am I. Instead of coffee I got him to comp me a ticket. Best advantage taking I ever did!

Kidd Pivot’s The Tempest Replica is based on The Tempest. It is one of Shakespeare’s odder plays and probably the last one he ever wrote. The genius’ final croak before sounding death!

Water-journeying/shipwreck/surrealist/magical/freaky deeky. Lord knows not all Shakespeare interpretations are good. But I thought, because this performance has water and a boat in it,  I was bound to like it! Or, because it is contemporary dance, I was bound to be a jaded cunt about it. ASSuming either way, my mind was open.

Contemporary dance rubs me the wrong way. In college, sometimes I hung out with a group of dancers. Boy I don’t know if I ever understood why they were flailing their arms around and slumping their bodies athletically to moody music belonging to no genre, but if I did, the epiphany was brief and momentary (or charitable). It’s my own problem.

The one exception to my feelings of confusion regarding CC danceworkshop shenanigans (to my credit, a sentiment not publicly voiced until now) was anything and everything to do with DOLO MCCOMB.  THE DANCE VERSION OF LUCILLE BALL. If Roy lichtenstein ever made a Lucille Ball print and then a magician brought her to life (and the little points glittered) and performed a saucy, wicked dance thing, it would be Dolo. Props to you Dolo, you glorious, sardonic weirdo! The rest of you cc dancers, no comment.

Reasons I like Dolo’s stuff are myriad. She is technically excellent. I don’t know much about technically excellent dance, as far as I can tell, her classical training is evident BUT she provocatively explores and restructures body and movement.  Her stuff is stamped with her sassy style (styling and style of movement) which is matched to similarly sassy music. Her pieces usually tell a story. Movement, style, music, costuming…etc… work TOGETHER. Her stories provoke something funny, precise, and often, dark. A little strange. This just so happens to be my taste, but even if it weren’t, she pulls it all together in such a way that is both communicative and beautiful. (Although, what kind of beauty, is a whole ‘nother long winded discussion entirely.)

The Tempest Replica achieves more (because their shit is highly trained NDT dance professionals with a ton of resources and time) (my unprofessional opinion is that Dolo is totally good enough and smart enough to do something like it).

ANyway, this performance stretched my brain. THe music and the lights and effects (WLAD!) are organic and essential components of the story telling.  They compliment and (literally) shed light on the expression of movement. I can’t even begin to talk about how dynamically important the costuming is to the success of the piece.

Good lord! Every component of The Tempest Replica is important and a testament to the necessity of all genres of artistic expression! Individually mastered and mastered together!

There is no conceptual PERFORMANCE PHILOSOPHIZING going on here. Thank God!!!!! I hate that shit! It is all about the expression of story. Performance not sucking its own dick for the purpose of being annoying (Marina Abromovic and BAUHAUS DANCERS). It is absolutely perfectly pointedly telling the story of a shipwreck. The shipwreck is plot, but also allegorical as bodily and emotional turmoil.

The multi-genre expressions of The Tempest Replica are reliant on each other and come together for the service of the whole.

The Tempest Replica blows the ideas of conceptual performance OUT OF THE WATER. Similarly, philosophy books on phenomenology are redundant after the first few pages. The point is bested by actual literature employing phenomenology as device for narrative.  Fine art is always king, bitchez.

Shakespearian Balanchine on fairy dust crack.

I take my coffee black. with a sugar