An Evening of Dance Works
Choreography by Christopher Caines, Ping Chong, and Muna Tseng
La MaMa e.t.c., New York
May 29, 2008
By Tom Phillips
Copyright 2008 by Tom Phillips
For 46 years now, La MaMa experimental theater company has been the place to go to see something new and completely unexpected. By now, it’s only natural that this mama is showing signs of middle age; so the final program of the month-long La MaMa Moves! Dance Festival mixed something new with something old, and even something old-fashioned. The old was best – a revival of Muna Tseng’s “Water Water,” with most of the original cast returning, 24 years after its New York premiere. “Water Water” is a subtle spoof of Asian formalism and sexism, with a cast of six Asian women. In 1984 it must have looked revolutionary; now, in retrospect, it looks prophetic.
Brief digression: Recently Japan Society staged a program with a real live contemporary geisha, an exquisite creature called Komomo who danced, sang, knelt motionlessly and served tea seamlessly, a young woman dedicated to preserving the ideal of feminine grace and manners perfected in the Confucian world. (And incidentally publicizing her book, “A Geisha’s Journey.”) It was seductive enough to make you yearn for the days when men were warriors and girls were geishas. However the destruction of this ideal has been going on for some time now, and it is dealt a mortal wound at every performance of “Water Water.” Dressed not in kimonos but in plain, military-style Mao suits, these six Asian women go through a solemn mockery of Kabuki-style theatre, Asian martial arts and the “mystery of tea.” They begin on their knees, facing rear, then break out into tight formations for the meaningless activity of pouring water from one tumbler into another, and another and another, and finally into a fishbowl borne in at a glacial pace by a deadpan attendant. With their feet and their expressions in lockstep, our lovelies then turn their exercise into a martial drill, and then into a farce, as they trade their water tumblers for bubble pipes. In the end they take a deep draught from their glasses, and emit a satisfied “Aah.” The audience shares the double satisfaction of seeing the exquisiteness of it all, and knowing that it can all be safely left behind, that its function is no longer necessary. After 24 years, some of the original cast members may not have been as supple as they were, but none had lost her revolutionary spirit. At one point, a dancer accidentally spilled some water, and it was a measure of how well the piece made its point, that it didn’t matter at all.
Ping Chong’s new piece, “I Will Not Be Sad in this World,” is very much from our 21st-century age of terror and anxiety. Three men and two women in motley, rag-like costumes look like refugees from some unspecified disaster. As they clump together, skittering about on all fours and staring out into the audience in fear, their only fortress seems to be each other. There’s an invisible, unbreakable bond – best dramatized in a slow march across the stage that pauses each time one of the group collapses and falls. The powerful, slow movements left me awed, but puzzled; the title thesis, "I will not be sad .." seemed to be left undemonstrated.
The old-fashioned number was a surprise in this venue. Christopher Caines’ “Exquisite Hour” was a romantic ballet (!) for two couples, set to a suite of moonlit 19th century French songs, mostly by Gabriel Faure. The Christopher Caines Dance Company has an admirable, if old-fashioned mission: “to explore, experiment with and celebrate great music through dancing.” However, in this case the music was greater than the dancing. Mezzo-soprano Silvie Jensen gave a loving, dreamy touch to the delicately crafted chansons, but the two young dancing couples were putting too much effort into their lifts and spins to join in the reverie. To be fair, La MaMa’s intimate annex is not an ideal setting for ballet. The squeaks of the shoes were too audible, and the cracks in the technique too visible, to permit the illusion of ease.
Copyright 2008 by Tom Phillips
File photo of "Water Water" by Tseng Kwong Chi