Photo: Blue Chemical Photography
Photo: Blue Chemical Photography

Trapped Between

Kirsten Kaschock

In Fore-ign/Fore-out, four choreographers explore states of liminality—of how to be between things.

In Matriz, Evalina Carbonell uses a stage-spanning black banner and fluid yet precise movement to paint the space her cast of five women inhabit. The opening section is set to David Lang’s “Just (After Song of Songs)”—the lyrics resonating particularly with Carbonell’s visibly pregnant body. Each specific item, situation, or body part named seems called into being by gesture or phrase. Later in the piece, Weiwei Ma and Asya Zlatina mesmerize in a duet, their nuanced understanding of weight and gravity transforming their earthbound movements into a type of flight.

Nikolai McKenzie choreographed and performed Boy, a physicalized monologue with text taken from Ken Baumann’s debut novel Solip. For most of the piece, McKenzie swans and staggers across the space in white socks and underwear, a red X on his chest, book in hand. Baumann’s enigmatic turns of phrase are heightened by McKenzie’s strangely narcissistic delivery. The solo is revelatory and coy—a push-and-pull of exhibitionism captured in lines like this one: “Transmission will be intermittently interrupted by sounds of sobbing—pardon us.” There is a madness in transitioning from childhood to adulthood, in learning to suppress whole aspects of ourselves. McKenzie makes the psychic costs of this process concrete.

Melissa Chisena has two remarkable pieces on the program, Entangle—a duet created in collaboration with Marie Brown, and Breath—a work choreographed to an original breath score performed live by Katonya Mosley with percussion by Jonathan Cannon. In Entangle, Chisena and Brown work within the confines of a huge skirt, the interpretive potentials endless. Brown’s echoing and manipulation of Chisena’s upper body at times looks like addiction, at times possession, and at times a struggle between sisters, friends, or lovers. Breath begins as a performance done to a score, but by the end Chisena and Mosley’s breathing are indistinguishable, the unification achieved by extremities of effort and attention.

The program ends with Annielille Gavino-Kollman’s La Migra, Let’s Run, an at-times quite literal exploration of themes surrounding immigration. Gavino-Kollman offers up a train-ride, a baseball game, and a lesson in assimilation that begins with “sorting, by shape and color.” The humor in this piece is dark, and Gavino-Kollman’s last monologue—in white face, channeling both Charlie Chaplin and Donald Trump—is a chilling reminder that we minimize jingoism at our own peril.

Fore-ign/Fore-out, choreographers Carbonell, McKenzie, Chisena, and Gavino-Kollman, Chi Movement Arts Center, Sept. 16 and 17.

Share this article

Kirsten Kaschock

Kirsten Kaschock is the author of three books of poetry: The Dottery, A Beautiful Name for a Girl, and Unfathoms. Sleight–her novel about performance, artistic responsibility, and atrocity–is available from Coffee House Press. She is currently on faculty at Drexel University. She is a former staff writer and Editor-in-Chief with thINKingDANCE.

PARTNER CONTENT

Keep Reading

Notes from Within Blank Placard Dance, Replay

Jonathan Stein

Protest, a living legacy and a committed practice

A young person with shoudler length red hair stands in a green long sleeve shirt hodling a blank white sign. onthe left a large mural of a female face looking up, and scales and lotus flower.
Photo: Amelia Candeub

Is Halprin’s postmodernism as radical today as it was in 1967?

Xander Cobb

Blank Placard Dance, Replay in Philadelphia

Dancers stand close together, forming a clump. They face in all directions, their bodies back to back, front to back, and back to side. Each one grips a wooden post holding high attached white posters. They wear bright yellows, purples, reds, blues, pinks, teals, and oranges. Some are visibly sweaty. Dancers facing the camera look serious and a bit fatigued. Glimpses of blue sky, clouds, a street, and city buildings fill the cracks between their blank signs.
Photo: Amelia Candeub