The title of the dance performance was Plantulary. The theme, botanical. On a whim, my partner suggested we attend a performance of a new dance work by a small immersive arts collaborative, Aniccha Arts. Through the arc of a single year—from growth through to dormancy—the dancers describe the story of plant life using percussive dance rhythms, music, literary, and various vegetable props.
For me, this dance performance was a challenge to appreciate; it was no Swan Lake. I didn’t fully understand the connection between many of the sound and dance elements. But, curiously, the memory of it has stuck with me for the past few days.
To set the scene, the stage consisted of a simple dark room lit by spotlights and early evening sunlight coming in through large windows. Along the baseboard of the stage were narrow trays of green seedlings lit by fluorescent grow-lights, forming the outer limit of the performance space. To further imbue the stage with plant life, several moss balls (kokedama-like) were suspended from the ceiling with fishing lines.
Simple plant props frame the storytelling (photo courtesy of Tom Wilson) |
The performers, five in total, moved independently of each other for the most part. Occasionally, they would come together in formation to enact some part of the plant cycle. The movement occurred mostly in front of the audience, but sometimes among or behind us. Words were used at times to announce a change of season. The words are a sort of amphigory, which is a nonsense word invented by the artist or poet to sound like the thing it describes — as in the poem Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll.
The beginning of the arc is called warbrubling; the middle season is called loudpour; and the end of the season's arc is called crispedraw. Within each season are additional nonsense words to describe various processes, for example, the word for your body in conversation with the wind: plepleplepleple.
Overall, the piece held together as a story, though I didn’t understand some of the moments. The structure is reminiscent of other forms of dance, including hula, native folk dances, and even classical ballet at its core. By incorporating novel elements of sound, movement, and language, this particular piece was able to communicate to me the basic botanical story without being too literal (for instance, nobody ran around the stage claiming to be a milkweed). Art is meant for the interpretation of the beholder. It is not for me to say this is good or bad art for anyone but myself. Plantulary was, for me, ambitious and interesting.
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