By: Jon Behm
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Wreck - Photo by Randy Karels
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Chaos Theory is an idea that certain seemingly random dynamical systems are fully determined by their initial condition, or in layman’s terms—there is no “random” anything—any objects’ future can be determined by its original state. While I can’t come close to really understanding this theoretical concept, I was reminded of the idea in the Black Label Movement’s production of Wreck at the Southern Theater. At the beginning of the performance the dancers, or “movers” as they are referred to in BLM, are all jumbled in a pile in the center of the stage. Throughout the work they move about the stage in seemingly chaotic and random ways. However, their perfect interaction and seamless movements suggest that there is some defining force at work.
The force, of course, is the choreography of Carl Flink, the wunderkind behind Wreck as well as a BLM performer. His piece loosely details a stormy boat journey across the Great Lakes. While the story is nearly impossible to follow in a linear fashion, I don’t believe that it is meant to be translated literally into something easily understood. Rather, it is a collection of dreamlike sequences—some eerily cheerful, many downright nightmarish, that are all tied together with invisible strands to the idea of crossing a body of water.
Wreck has been Flink’s work in progress since September of ‘06. While he conceived the original idea, it has evolved over time due to a collaborative process between the company and various observers invited to give feedback as the work progressed. The result is a stunning dialogical achievement. While competing ideas could have derailed the creative process completely, Flink and company instead delivered an utterly cohesive body of work.
Writhing in and out of each other’s space like human puzzle pieces, the movers perfectly execute the vision. It would have been plainly obvious if anyone tripped up, since each dance piece was interconnected to an extent that did not allow for failure on anyone’s part. Luckily BLM has a very talented cast of movers to work with—a group with both the grace and discipline to execute each movement flawlessly. The modern dance style was much like watching something underwater with performers appearing, at times, to swim through the air.
Backing up the movers’ performance was top notch sound and lighting design. Playing original music by Mary Ellen Childs, the orchestra helped to set the tone of the piece, which was as dark as the ocean floor. It reminded me a bit of some of the Carmine and Francis Coppola’s original score from the film Apocalypse Now in its understated complexity and tone. Utilizing strings, percussion and woodwinds, in addition to some less common instruments, the onstage musicians created tangible realities through music—such as wind, water and darkness. There was no obvious rhythm pattern to the music, which meant that the performers must have had to know the score inside and out in order to stay in sync.
Jeff Bartlett’s lighting design is masterful as well. He uses light and dark contrast to heighten the stark underwater feel of the performance, as well as slowly moving lights to give the set an eerie fluid movement.
They say that the strongest polygon in architecture is the triangle. In the same way the sides of a triangle displace weight, the three sides of Wreck (dance, music and lighting) support each other to make up one of the strongest dance pieces that I have seen to date.
If you are in the mood for something out of the ordinary, see Wreck at the Southern Theater until Jan. 20. If you are on a budget, pay-as-able night (pay what you can) is Jan. 16.
Location Info:
Southern Theater
Artist Info: Black Label Movement
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