Photo by Deneka Peniston
On Saturday May 27th
at LaMaMa’s The Club, I attended day one of Maura Donohue’s curated Shared
Evening showcase of Hunter College choreographers. My response focuses on one
of the choreographer’s that day, Rina Espiritu, and her work "leveling" performed by April Amparo and
Camilla Davis.
There is something
savory about the unsavory. Not everything in life is sunshine and rainbows. (Nor
would I or many of us like everything to be so.) Sometimes, you need a bit of
texture to redefine lines of beauty… shake the foundations up a bit and journey
into a new experience. This is where "leveling
succeeds, not in making the uncomfortable accessible, but in the powerful way
it forces itself down your throat as your gag reflex kicks in and you gasp for
air. "Leveling" kicks your ass. And you learn to love that.
In "leveling', the silence speaks volumes. The
dancers slap their bodies, throw themselves through space, and into the floor
with audible thuds… gasping, grunting and
panting as the exertion takes a toll on their bodies. This escalates to the
performers gagging themselves repeatedly as though purging a demon from within.
Together, these noises produce a natural soundtrack of physical exertion and
wild unrest that is identifiably human. I recall a particular moment in which
both of the dancers collapsed to the floor simultaneously, and an audience
member next to myself instinctively gasped. As audience members, we not only
see, but feel the raw, fragile humanness of the two performers before us and
are drawn to sympathize with the physical strain they place on their bodies
These outbursts of
reckless physical abandonment are juxtaposed by smaller, quieter moments of
controlled muscular tension and focus. The close
proximity of the performers in the intimate setting of LaMaMa’s Club allowed
the audience to take this in with uncomfortable detail causing my own body to
tense up in anxious anticipation of the next violent explosion of energy
While the
performers’ internal, self-immersed focuses suggest that the source of their
conflicts lies inside themselves, at times, their personal tension transforms
into an outward display of aggression. This is exemplified in the relationships
between the dancers as they wrestle, twist and tear at each other’s costumes,
and grab at each other’s bodies. Other places reveal an almost spiteful
animosity toward the audience, for instance, when the performers gag and thrust
their bodies towards the audience forcing them to observe the distasteful act.
Framed by the
internal battles the dancers exhibited, these moments feel a bit awkward to
myself. I am drawn to question how this outward aggression fit in with the
narrative of personal conflict that encases it. What impetus was it that
provoked the dancers to transition between these two states of internal and
external? These mysteries left me a bit confused, but also very curious,
intrigued, and wanting more.
At the close of Rina
Espiritu’s "leveling", I can’t shake
the feeling that I am in deep need of cleansing, yet another twisted part of me
is begging for more. Rina’s work is not made to be digested with ease,
rather it is meant to sit uncomfortably in one’s mind and thoughts not unalike
how spoiled food lingers in one stomach long after eaten. From this uncomfortable
place of perpetual disturbance, "leveling"
succeeds in maintaining the audience’s attention and making a sizeable
impact on their memory.
For more information on Rina
Espiritu and her work, check our her website at: http://www.rinaespiritu.com/.
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