Photo: Paola Nogueras
Photo: Paola Nogueras

Winning Death

Whitney Weinstein

“Why do you wanna die, kid?” the MC of a gameshow asks Alameda, a teen who opened The Elementary Spacetime Show by attempting suicide. In an eerily bizarre place described as neither present nor absent, a contest—where winning allows the contestant to choose between life and death—is equal parts Rocky Horror, Game Show Network, and a bad acid trip. Three strikes from “give-y up-y comments,” and the player is forced to return to the land of the living.

The show featured choreography by Sonia Tayeh and Ben Hobbs, and the production was performed primarily by University of the Arts students, whose professionalism in crafting the song and dance that filled the entire theatre space blew me away.

Alameda ultimately had to choose between enduring life’s dolor or stepping into an unknown void. She met Precious the drag queen, who offered her own equation to life’s happiness. After thinking aloud, Alameda reworked the theorem to her own benefit, concluding that “suffering minus meaning minus hopelessness equals zero, absolute nothingness.” The ensemble’s exaggerated whirling overpowered Alameda’s fixedness, enacting the overwhelming feeling many face in the fight against depression.

Alameda’s affinity for the rationality of suicide led her to debating the value of life’s absurdity as she faced a series of challenges that probed her to consider existence from all perspectives, from physical to spiritual, emotional to social, satirical to medicinal. Being forced to understand opposing sides in order to better defend her own argument reconnected Alameda to a sense of purpose.

Later, Alameda met Alameda 2, suggesting that identical combinations of atoms exist in the universe, resulting in another person who thinks and moves analogously to one’s self. In essentially talking to a living reflection, Alameda moved from self-loathing to self-acceptance.

Being a part of the liminal freak show provided a place for Alameda to feel understood, tolerated, and respected, and provided her with the strength to endure suffering. Feeling normalized supported her ability to move forward in spite of inevitable exacerbating emotions.

Her journey reminded me that we live in a physical world where our capacity to be flexible in body and mind is reflected in our ability to lead what feels like a personally satisfactory life. The light-heartedness of the vaudevillian game show facilitated accessibility to sensitive, heavy content. The Elementary Spacetime Show alludes that we can never know actual reality, and extended an invitation to explore life’s significance through existential questioning. The audience is reminded, after all, that meaning is not found, but created.

The Elementary Spacetime Show, César Alvarez, Co-presented with University of the Arts, Arts Bank, September 10, 11, 14-18, 20-24, http://fringearts.com/event/elementary-spacetime-show-10/

Share this article

Whitney Weinstein

Whitney H. Weinstein is a dance educator, choreographer, writer, and professional mover. She is an editor and staff writer with thINKingDANCE. Learn more.

PARTNER CONTENT

Keep Reading

Simone Forti—A Remembrance

Eric Schoefer

"Notice what you notice"

Photo: An evening with Simone Forti, K.J. Holmes and Daniel Lepkoff And a conversation with the artists moderated by Wendy Perron. "Sundays on Broadway" Cathy Weis Projects Performers: performance photographed: Sunday, June 4, 2017; 6:00 PM at WeisAcres in SoHo, 537 Broadway, #3 (between Prince and Spring Streets) NYC; Photograph: © 2017 Richard Termine PHOTO CREDIT - Richard Termine
Photo: Cathy Weis

Butoh: Addressing The Discomfort

Caitlin Green

There’s drool, (and lots of it).

A maroon graphic says “Philadelphia Butoh Collective” in white bold font. Below the words there’s a black emblem with an image of a person sitting on the ground with one foot and their arms raised in the air. Red lettering overlays the image and also reads “Philadelphia Butoh Collective. To the right, lining the border, there are duplicate images of two people in motion. One is bent over from the waist with arms hanging to the ground, and the other stands with bent knees, hinging slightly backward with one arm outstretched and the other folded over their torso. To the far left border, vertical lettering reads “two new pieces” in black, bold font.
Photo: Philadelphia Butoh Collective