Image description: an image of a dancer in fifth position on pointe, wearing a strapless leotard and skirt is copied three times over a black background with large bold lettering that reads “I don’t dance”.

When The Inner Critic Meets A Little Delusion

Caitlin Green

Morgan Kirner–a South Jersey actor, singer, and educator–teams up with Hannah Catanoso (director/choreographer) and Val Zvinyatskovsky (music director) to present I Don’t Dance. The work captures the confidence and character-building that pursuing professional dance can offer, while parsing through the agonizingly embarrassing, and self-deprecating pit stops that must be made along the way. Kirner recounts the tempestuous, exhilarating, and sometimes devastating love-hate relationship that she (and many other stage performers) wrestles with when it comes to becoming a “good” dancer. For Kirner, the truth about identifying as a dancer is that it’s easier not to.

Using a medley of Broadway hits, two suitcases, and a plush hand-puppet, Kirner energizes the stage with vocal prowess and choreography that becomes more advanced as her character develops, evolving from stiffly timid movement to more expressive and balanced.

Kirner opens the piece by singing “Astonishing” from Little Women when a startling deep voice cuts through the space thanking her for coming to the audition. The voice follows up with, “…Can you dance?” She stumbles over her words before arriving at a hesitant “yes”, which lands somewhere between wishful thinking and self-doubt. As she prepares to perform the audition routine, her hesitation and uncertainty is interrupted by a boisterous, “FIVE-SIX-SEVEN-EIGHT!” The ominous voice erupts through the speakers again, this time as choreographer, verbally orchestrating every step, every turn, with movement cues that follow a quick cadence, leaving no room for questioning. Kirner mostly keeps up, though her rigid repertoire evidences discomfort and ultimately results in rejection. Again.

Still entrenched in the fantasy of a perfect dance performance, Kirner’s inner critic meets the secret ingredient required to defeat the perpetual comparisons and soul crushing rejections that inevitably accompany a career on Broadway – a little Delusion. Taking the form of her tiny pink unicorn hand-puppet, Delusion gives Kirner the pep talk of a lifetime. Singing a rendition of  “On the Right Track” from Pippin, Delusion (also played by Kirner) successfully strokes the ego in all the right ways to evoke the winning attitude that lands Kirner her position as Swing and Dance Captain on Broadway. Inevitably, however, things go wrong, and we witness Kirner fumble her way through the notorious self-discovery process that art-making entails.

While Kirner’s solo work showcases her magnetic presence and ability to command the room, only a fraction of the spacious Performance Garage stage is utilized for the majority of I Don’t Dance. As a result, the world being created feels stagnant at times. Subthemes of growth, travel, and perspective shift would have held a greater weight with more dynamic dramaturgy to engage the audience from these different perspectives. Still, Kirner’s message comes in clearly: “Trust the process”, as Delusion insists.

I Don’t Dance exposes the quintessential stage dancers’ inner monologue using satire to alleviate self-doubt and acknowledge the humanity of imperfections. Sometimes, the accolades arrive off-stage, in the act of tapping into something deeper than performance. Sometimes failing is funny, and learning to appreciate the growing pains along the way pays off.

 

I Don’t Dance, Morgan Kirner, Performance Garage, Sept. 8-9.

 

Share this article

Caitlin Green

Caitlin Green is a Philadelphia-based freelance dance artist with a Master’s degree in Dance/Movement Therapy from Drexel University (2019). In her work, she tends to concentrate on the body’s role in wellness, individuality, and expressions of personal and collective narratives. She is a staff writer with thINKingDANCE.

PARTNER CONTENT

Keep Reading

Indelible Release: a Moonscape

E. Wallis Cain Carbonell

“Inside a womb of memories where the water body floats…”

Chloe Marie Newton, a black female dancer wearing a gauzy dark blue tank and Helen Hale, a white female dancer with a long brown ponytail wearing shimmery silver, sit on a light grey marley floor, reclined on one hip with knees gently stacked and one arm intertwined with the other, reaching upwards. They have their backs to us and around and beyond them, we can see pale, cool-toned, sheer fabric. Through and beyond the fabric, we see a row of shadowy-figured audience members, seated and wearing headphones that emit a blue glow.
Photo: Johanna Austin

Cannonball Bets on Philadelphia’s Indie Artists

Caitlin Green

“Cannonball is no one person’s vision, but the collective fever dream of us all.”

A group of twelve people pose in front of a white wall. on the floor level, four group members either sit, lie, kneel or lunge on the ground. standing members lean on one another on either side of the crew, and people in the center sit or lay on a bench together.
Photo Credit: Cannonball