Manifold Motion's Miscellenea II Wraps Up Tonight
Around The -Ists This Week
Seattlest Pix 09Nov24
Seattlest Pix 09Nov23
Can't Miss It: Monday
You have likely heard the expression that begins "He has more talent in his pinky finger than..." and understood the metaphor as such: a well-used pop culture turn of phrase. However, on Tuesday night we saw a man who in truth has more expression in one finger than most others have in their entire bodies. Standing next to a field of lotus flowers, bathed in white powder and a simple white gown, Ushio Amagatsu enthralled with the smallest, yet most magnificently meaningful, movements in his hands and body at the Paramount Theater's presentation of Sankai Juku's 2000 work Kagemi--Beyond the Metaphor of Mirrors.
Sankai Juku is a world-renowned Butoh dance group--Butoh is a newer Japanese art form, comprising a group of men who perform entirely covered in a white powder. Beyond that, we understand there to be few formal, steadfast rules; although a couple more dominant styles have taken hold over the past few decades. Being almost entirely unfamiliar with the genre, we read nothing about it in advance and brimmed with excitement at witnessing a new (to us) dance form with a fresh, unopinionated perspective.
Overall, we enjoyed the performance; it was breathtaking, tense, thought-provoking, and far from our normal dance proclivities. The simple, modern set and minimalist costume designs paired with the impressively precise, painstaking movements of the dancers yielded numerous moments of stunning visual imagery. As the night progressed, they looked more and more like benevolent aliens, or beatific, peaceful mannequins. However--and we noticed this with many other audience members--our attention and resolve wandered during many slow, drawn-out moments. Butoh, we gather, is rather challenging for those of us attuned to the traditional western artistic cycle of introduction/build tension/allow tension to reach climactic apex/release tension furiously/recap. Kagemi is tantric sex embodied in dance: all build-up, not necessarily any release.
Founder, director, choreographer and principal dancer Ushio Amagatsu plays beautifully with themes of mirroring and reflection, using the spare, repetitive movements so characteristic of Butoh to comment on our ability to truly see ourselves, or perhaps our fear of being seen for who we really are. After his opening solo, the lotus flowers float up to hover above the stage, setting a lush, underwater tone for the performance. In the second piece, MANEBI-two mirrors, a pair of dancers mimic each others movements until the mirror is shattered by the appearance of a third dancer. Each movement is obsessively precise, carving a deep chasm of expression and controlled emotion.
The closest that Kagemi comes to a climatic moment is when Amagatsu, at the end of another taught solo, is descended upon by four other dancers dressed in costumes resembling a Marilyn Manson red carpet outfit: floor-length black robes covered in splattered white paint and streaks of red. They chase Amagatsu off stage, and deliver the Butoh equivalent of a neighborhood girlfriend bitch session: posturing and pointing like modern-day Furies, they appear to be calling judgment on all around them except themselves. After offering an in-unison gesture of thrusting "thumbs up" high into the air, they turn their thumbs toward the ground, dig them into their palms, and drag them across their own faces leaving gashes of red paint across their stark white bodies. The pointing, judging, and simulated laughing begins to build to a climax, as index fingers covered in black paint mix black streaks with the red already on their heads and necks. Suddenly, they stop, leaving you catching your breath as they return to a landscape of slow, tortuous movements.
Still, it wasn't climactic enough for some of the audience. Next to our husband (who admittedly started reading the program notes after the fourth piece until the Furies showed up), a man sat with his head in his hands while his date appeared to nod off. At the end, after many had stood for numerous ovations, a man turned to his date in the row behind us and said, just loud enough for us to hear, "What the f*%# was that?" We left feeling curiously challenged, but not disappointed. Perhaps it was intentional, for during those slow moments we found ample time for reflection on our own preferences and desires, and we came to the conclusion that we like more conflict and release in our modern dance: we want a few barrel rolls, some heart-stopping partnering and lifts, even the occasional body flying through the air. We were thankful for this opportunity to look in the mirror and acknowledge that.
add to stumble upon
add to reddit
tweet this
post to facebook
Post a comment (Comment Policy)