Gassman is the real article, the authentic listener, who has heard in the city’s woke and hip aspirations, its angry and tired lives, and its ever-evolving demography the real meaning of ordinary anguish.
A dominating thread of grief and healing wound its way through La MaMa Moves! 2021 and most of the artists brought song and storytelling into a festival that, as curator Nicky Paraiso acknowledged was full of resilient artists “making work that is essential and true to this pivotal moment in time.”
On Friday, a battle against nightmares. On Saturday, the struggle to accomplish one basic task. On Sunday, a dinosaur trying to jump-rope. And on Sunday, the crushing weight of depression.
Live art is still here, and as Shelley understood two centuries ago, it will remain alive for as long as we do.
PASSAGE THRU feels like stepping through a portal, a fable we get to participate in alongside the performers.
Fact and fiction, inseparable, blur and tease. Cut to disco ball, still swinging. Slow down and watch the air sparkle.
Eliza Bent is about as close to a recognizable brand as you can get in downtown theater land (I say this in a good way) – she has a specific and winning skewed sensibility and a propensity for characters, which I assumed would not be overly diminished by the Zoom platform.
And then, time reversed itself.
We sit like middle schoolers at lunch, cliques separated by social barriers. People chat. “Did you get the job?” “The one at TikTok? No, it was a no. They said they’re on a hiring freeze.”
Black Dance Stories is exactly what it sounds like and precisely what we need right now. It’s a distillation of insightful moments in post-performance talkbacks spliced with casual conversations you once shared over drinks, plus powerful sentiments you’re overhearing now at BLM protests.
Black Dance Stories is exactly what it sounds like and precisely what we need right now. It’s a distillation of insightful moments in post-performance talkbacks spliced with casual conversations you once shared over drinks, plus powerful sentiments you’re overhearing now at BLM protests.
Coop seeks to remind us that we are here, together, and that “the piles of things we’ve forgotten” are scattered everywhere around us.