The Search Party’s production of Dance Nation didn’t leave any residue, it didn’t leave a mark on me, which is disappointing.
In an essential way, the world of Clare Barron’s script is a perfect fit for the themes she sets out to explore. She introduces us to a group of 13-year-olds: six girls, one boy, members of a competitive dance troupe in Liverpool, Ohio. Driven by their coach, Dance Teacher Pat, they dream, with obsessive fury, of making it to the national finals in Florida.
Dance Nation is about the bodies of 13-year-old girls, and what milieu is more embodied — more intimate in that sense, more viscerally character shaping — than dance? There’s a tableau that captures the complexity of some of the competing currents: stage left, Sofia tearfully, ashamedly, tries to scrub her first menstrual blood out of her tights; stage centre, Connie tenderly takes her toy horses out of a box and kisses each of them; stage right, Amina, who feels like a freak because she hasn’t had an orgasm, humps a pillow and tries to fantasize.
Within the idea of embodiment, Dance Nation is about the struggle to express female power.
There’s the undeniable force of female sexuality. Ashlee has a monologue that starts with the epicness of her ass and the strange power she has, at 13, over adult men. This moves into fantasies of world domination, which is aided by her proficiency in math. But there’s also always a vague awareness that her sexuality makes her vulnerable to predation.
In the core narrative, Zuzu and Amina vie for recognition of their gifts. In other words, they’re embarking on an entry-level fight for adult, professional power. Amina is the most talented of the bunch and she knows it; so do the other girls, who struggle not to resent her for it.
All of this is rich thematic territory. I’ve seen these dynamics play out in the lives of girls I’ve been close to.
The problem I have with Dance Nation is that it’s illustrative. Telling you exactly what it wants you to know, it doesn’t leave a lot of room for inquiry. With its emphasis on monologues and short, limited-character scenes, it creates a prismatic effect — this girl believes she has a superpower, that big talker is embarrassed by her mom — but, because there’s little sense of thematic accumulation within core relationships, playwright Barron’s approach yields diminishing rewards.
My sense is that, to some extent, this is also an issue with this production. Because actor Amanda Sum’s Zuzu almost always feels like she’s on the brink of collapse, her journey in her relationship with Amina doesn’t have as satisfying a shape as it might.
Still, there’s a consistent feeling of artistic attentiveness about this production: the actors are clearly immersed and everything looks and sounds great.
In one of my favourite passage, Zuzu delivers a long monologue to her friend Luke about how she imagines losing her virginity. Actor Sum catches every nuance of the fantasy’s tenderness, eccentricity, and humour.
I also loved Nathan Kay’s delivery of Luke’s monologue about the deliciousness of feeling sleepy in a car that his mom’s driving.
Liza Huget brings charismatic swagger to Ashlee, she of the epic ass.
Lighting designer Itai Erdal creates gorgeous moments: in a night scene, on a blank stage, the projection of an enormous moon dwarfs Ashlee and Connie as they flirt with unseen strangers. The varied textures of Kate De Lorme’s eclectic sound design complement the script’s eccentricity.
And Amber Barton’s choreography adds both pathos and wit, the latter nevermore than in the first excerpt we see from a dance about Gandhi: it features sexy vampires.
I just wish it had all added up to more.
DANCE NATION by Clare Barron. Directed by Mindy Parfitt. Choreography by Amber Barton. Produced by The Search Party. Presented by The Cultch. At the York Theatre until May 11. (Tickets and information)
PHOTO CREDIT: Eileen Barrett, Tess Degenstein, Liza Huget, Nathan Kay, Amanda Sum, Nyiri Karakas, and Rami Kahlon (Photo by Emily Cooper. Lighting by Itai Erdal.)
0 Comments