This comment was originally posted on Twitter

This comment was originally posted on Twitter

i wish their had been a post performance Q & A.

What was I looking for, Ms. Darst, you asked? I am a dancer and dance carnivore. Oftentimes when one hears the words “Africa” and “Black” an image is constructed of what to expect—the type of movement, storyline, artistic philosophy, etc. These nouns did prepare me to see something familiar on Saturday night. Nevertheless, I came to The Good Dance on Saturday night with no expectations except expectation. What I did I get? The thrill of unconventional movement vocabulary and unusual spatial relationships; a dance where every moment seemed heavy with symbolism; and the pleasure of watching compelling performers imbue every gesture with meaning.

What did I love about The Good Dance? I loved the surprise. Watching the dancers progress from one moment to another I had no idea what was coming next. While Mr. Wilson says The Good Dance is non-literal and non-narrative, I followed a narrative throughout. The row of water bottles seemed like the boundaries of the Mississippi River and The Congo River, the two bodies of water that connect these choreographers. The scattering of the bottles was like the bleeding of their worlds and a representation of the destructive elements that have affected these areas. The rebuilding of the walls I likened to the resilience of these men/their homelands/ its inhabitants.

One of the many poignant moments was the duet between Reggie and Andreya. Andreya Ouama’s movement is like a secret. You can’t figure out how it’s happening and where it originates, but it is unleashed with unquenchable force, very satisfying. He is a dynamic mover, twisting, bending, broken arms and angles, falling. He is vulnerable and dominant, passionate. Andreya moves with deft alacrity that was a contrast to Reggie’s calming and simple presence. The costumes accentuated juxtaposition, Andreya in a lappa and bare chest; Reggie dressed in a curious combination of lappa and suit jacket. So much meaning here. They danced side by side, like the history of these two men. I was pleasantly surprised on Saturday night. A Good Dance indeed.

I learned a very important truth about an artist’s total output of work. I learned that what Peter Drucker had said about the work of Master Sumi E brush painters was right.

90 % of any great artist’s work is crap. Great crap relative to others; but crap none-the-less.

I found Mr. Drucker credible because he also included his own writing in that assessment. With caveat: \the challenge is to figure out what is the good 10% and keep only that!\

Happy Turkey Day Frank.

Bobo

I’m looking at THE GOOD DANCE like a book – as Mr. Wilson tells me to. The speech he gives narrows my vision. Rivers, water, collaboration, improvisation, skype, good book, good dance. I wonder if this part will be different on other nights.

Favorite parts: the Intro: Red lights, pulsing house music, and I can’t take my eyes off Rhetta Aleong. She sits, standing, hip jutting out, wrist hanging. She pivots and winds her leg up like a propeller. She’s hitting this contemporary movement in a way that I can feel. Her haughty expression makes me smile. The other dancing bodies taking up space in the middle of the floor can’t take my attention from her. She finally sees them, and then I do too.

A climax: Anna D. Schon’s and Paul Hamilton’s argumentative dance, and I’m rolling my eyes at the juxtaposition of these two dancers– hold up! He’s pushing the little white girl, uh oh! she’s pushing him back! They stare defiantly at us, crawling toward us with Anna D. Schon draped over Paul Hamilton’s back. On Thursday night, as these two rejoin the line, my homegirl starts clapping. I don’t join in.

The drama: Michel Kouakou, also known as “Lil’ Bit,” jumping, reaching, snapping cobwebs from his face, or signaling a homie; snapping off into some coupe decalle style serious rotation; footworking with a wine bottle like its a football (and how do you read “football” in Dakar? Brooklyn?); this is what you call freestyle. The word improvisation reads differently than freestyle in my good dance.

Headbanger moment: If you knock that water bottle off her head one more time I’m gonna….!

I need to see this one again. Talking to Ms. Cisse after the performance makes me want to have a relationship with this performance. She told me about working from improvisation, that Andrea Ouamba might lay out a different setup. The book is like an Almanac. You don’t read it cover to cover, and you return again and again to the parts you need.

This comment was originally posted on Twitter