If anyone wants to discuss Reggie Wilson and Andréya Ouamba’s The Good Dance: Dakar/Brooklyn, I think I’ll start things off with a question:
What do you go to dance for—and to what extent did this dance give you that?
And I’ll give a partial answer. One of the things I go to dance for is kinesthetic pleasure—the feeling of the imagined body, the mental map of the body, moving along with the performers on stage. You’d think after five years of being a dance critic, not to mention twenty-five years of dancing, my system would be jaded, responsive only to the most unusual or extreme movements. But as far as I can tell, the kinesthetic sense doesn’t work like that. It’s one of the basic, inexhaustible pleasures of life, like sex or eating. Any time I see an arm reaching to the sky, urge spreading out through the ribcage, I feel the same thrill. Even the minute, waving permutations of a hand are magic.
The Good Dance definitely gave me that—all those sweeps and reaches, plus tiny engines of fine-grained coordination. But the pleasure wasn’t unadulterated. Wilson and Ouamba intentionally (I believe) cut through that pleasure in order to find another aspect of the dance.
I’ll stop there. But what other aspects were you looking for? And what did you find?
The Good Dance Saturday night
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.
Comment by Alanna — November 17, 2009 @ 1:07 am
for me the dance was fabulous. there is a lot to comment on, but i have heard one person say it was ‘boring’. as with much else, it if was boring, you weren’t paying attention. i agree with much said earlier about the water bottles, the symbolism or literalness of people the world over who still must transport water on their heads (oftentimes at great personal risk), to westerners who have the privilege of carrying water around in plastic bottles to become the scourge of pollution. the back and forth of the bottles on the stage was a flood, welcome and reviled. i also appreciated the political themes, often very sly in subtle movements. the small white woman paired with tall black men, her gestures first to hold a secret, then seduction, then a lynching. there was so much going on simultaneously, it was a joy and a challenge to keep up.
i wish their had been a post performance Q & A.
Comment by beth — November 17, 2009 @ 10:53 am