Hip-Shot: ‘Revolutionary: Isadora Duncan…’
Revolutionary: Isadora Duncan’s Words, Music, Dance
Harman Center – Forum
Remaining Performances:
Sunday, July 13 @ 5:30 PM; Sunday, July 20 @ 6 PM
Sunday, July 24 @ 7 PM; Saturday, July 26 @ 1 PM
They say: “Join Word Dance Theater in their multi-media production of the life and times of Isadora Duncan, the great American artist and revolutionary. Using Duncan’s own words, actress Sarah Pleydell embodies Isadora. WDT dancers provide brilliant reconstructions of Isadora Duncan’s choreography, and Marcia Daft creates a soundscape using the beautiful music that was the thru-line of Duncan’s life and work. Don’t miss this rare opportunity to experience one of America’s greatest geniuses.”
Brian’s take: I find it very challenging to apply words to dance. To me, they kind of kill the point.
Not that it can’t be done, as it is elegantly in the Word Dance Theater’s production at the Harman Center Forum. You can truly watch the mother modern dance give birth to the form in this homage not only to Isadora Duncan, but to movement itself.
The piece is divided into segments of language and segments of dance, taken directly from Duncan’s texts and her choreography, respectively. Sarah Pleydell, who compiled the script, narrates as Duncan from a plush divan. The director has given her very little opportunity to move–she lounges nearly the entire performance–but save a few weak moments, Pleydell commands Duncan’s words with masterful gestures and thoughtfully measured delivery.
And then there are the dances, performed by Cynthia Word (also artistic director), Valerie Durham, and Ingrid Zimmer, which, over the course of eleven pieces, run the emotional gamut from joy to childhood to love to patriotism to mourning to communism. (Well, I’m not sure if communism is officially part of the “emotional gamut,” but I digress.) Some are better than others–and a few are spectacular–but each resonates vibrantly with Pleydell’s soliloquy and, even more impressively, her intent gaze as she watches the movement unfold before her.
One number bears particular mention, although I hate to demean it by even calling it a “number.” In 1913, Duncan’s two children drowned in the Seine. At this moment in the show, Word stands center stage and performs a painfully physical ave in low light. Her gestures are revealed so slowly, so precisely, and at such a microscopic level, that you barely even catch her moving. She refuses to utter an extraneous breath. Draped with a simple white linen, she might as well be a trembling marble statue. Word never moves her feet, and so the faintest tilt of the head or quiver of the torso sends a ripple of sorrow through the theater. Duncan often spoke of ever-elusive “ideals” in movement, gesture, and the human form. Word would certainly have made the master proud.
See it if: “You’re just not a dance person” (I can hear you saying it from here, and that’s no excuse).
Skip it if: You find yourself easily irritated by less-than-ideal recordings of classical music, no matter how talented the dancers moving to them are.
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12:51 pm
There may, perhaps, be another side to this show worth noting to the Fringe-goer…
i do acknowledge the boldness of attempting a retrospect compilation / biography / acting/dance extravaganza–as soon as i saw the description, i knew i must go.
The Writing: The entire show is a plodding pairing of overly long monologue/narrative followed by a short dance number while the narrator looks on. The writing seems to attempt to be in the style of the worst sort of History Channel introductions, and by that i mean “the year was blah blah blah, twinkies were in style, my socks were on tight, but the point i’m getting at is…”
Unfortunately, each monologue in turn uses the same rhetorical devices becoming quite painful quite quickly. 10 minutes of this would have been okay. After 10 minutes, come on, y’all…
The Acting: The narrator, nonetheless, had a certain magic about her, without which the pain of the mathematic structure of the performance would have been crippling. There were issues with garbled accents, and distractions from excessive arm posing. And the attrocious city-and-name dropping in the script made the narrative sometimes painful to hear, but it was delivered astoundingly well. The narrator also hung on every moment in the dance. Or at least she seemed to, as opposed to pretending or just waiting. I found her engaging to watch, although at times perplexing to listen to.
The Production: During the first monologue my first thought was, “oh shit, they’re going to use that scrim to add dancers and advance the plot… oh shit! oh shit!!” They didn’t. The NOT scrim was their backdrop. Monologue. Dance. Monologue. Dance. Monologue. Dance.
The Dancing: The first/last dancer (uh… the 30-something one) truly embodied the words she followed. It’s like she “got it,” if that makes sense–her relationship with space was as Isadore described her intentions. The other two… eh…
Not knowing Duncan, but for the narrators portrayal of her, i found myself agreeing with her diatribes on dance theory… unleashing the organic, the internal, intrinsic inspirations, etc. The Tao in dance. And yet i’m laughing at her objections to her critics, because the choreography (if historically valid) WAS, in fact, overly simple, and mathematic, and not often reflective of the grand talk behind it. Poor Isadore… i wonder if we’re all unwilling to see what our critics see?
Overall: This was a bold and applaudable project to undertake. I urge that if intended for post-Fringe export, that it be re-written and that the production itself get an overhaul to try and move the action along with more speed and variety. If not minor dance during narration, try breaking up the monotony with a scene or two of someone other than the narrator discussing Isadore and narrating her life. Or replace some narration with images? Or just let the dance speak for itself?
And let us not forget…
Folks who don’t have the “Fringe = community theatery” thick skin may hate this.
Folks who don’t feel a spiritual connection with dance or the elements may hate this.
Folks who are aficionados of outstanding dance, and thus experience no vicarious living through watching ok dance, may hate this.
7:38 am
Girl, doesn’t anyone just go see a show for fun anymore??
Izzie loved Revolutionary. She says you should go!
10:03 am
I went to see this because of Brian’s review, and I was not disappointed. I’m inclined to agree with the second post – it is fun to watch, so go see it! The perfectionist in me, though, has two quibbles. First, I would have appreciated a little more detail in the verbal portion. When Isadora says “we moved here and there,” I had no idea who “we” was. I felt I was missing pieces of the story. But I understand this isn’t meant to be a lecture, so I can deal. Second, which Brian mentions as well, is Isadora’s divan prison. I felt there were moments when the actor wanted to get up and move, but didn’t. What is theatre if not go-with-your-gut and impulse-driven? I would beg the director to give Isadora a little more freedom. Overall, though, lovely, lovely work.
8:24 am
Just saw this at the 2009 Fringe, because I had seen it last year and loved it. It was as good the second time. The dancers are so graceful and Word’s Ave Maria dance is heartbreakingly beautiful. My only quibble is the lighting put too many shadows (in my opinion) on the luminous dancers.