Sunday, October 28, 2018

Darkness Into Light





Pamela Trokanski, a Davis treasure, has been choreographing, performing and teaching in Davis for 34 years. She has given lectures and demonstrations and, since 1994, has funded almost 10,000 free-movement classes for adults 65 and older. She has provided free dance classes for people with Parkinson’s Disease and their caregivers since 2010. At one time she wrote a dance column for The Enterprise.


When I started as a critic, she invited me to come and review one of her dance concerts. I explained that I knew absolutely nothing about dance and she said that made me perfect to review her shows because she meant them to be accessible to everyone.

Over the years, I don’t know how much I have learned about dance, but I certainly have appreciated how accessible they are to everyone.

“Darkness into Light” has one more weekend to play at the Trokanski studio. It is a most timely piece, opening the day of the Pittsburgh killings and a week after all the bomb deliveries. The message is about trying to find peace in this chaotic world in which we live, where we are bombarded by pressures and negative messages on all sides.

How do we find peace for ourselves when we are concerned about the health of the planet or the rapid changes in technology? How do we find balance in a world that feels increasingly chaotic and disorganized? We no longer worry about lions, tigers and bears (oh my) but politics, ethics and technology.

Trokanski’s printed programs are always frustrating because they are misleading. There are eight dancers, it says, but nine show up (the unlisted dancer is Trokanski herself). Music is listed in order of performance, but a piece by Pink (which I figured would help me figure out if I was keeping up) is No. 4 on the list and No. 7 in the performance. Company member stories are listed in order, but Allegra Silberstein (the only dancer I recognized) is No. 2 on the list and doesn’t speak until fourth or fifth.

Better to forget trying to keep it straight and just enjoy the dancing (unless you have to write a review of it).

Dancers, who range in age from young (maybe 10 or 11) to 87, are: Lila Boutin, Allegra Silberstein, Michele Tobias, Leela Ghassemi, Padyn den Dulk, Tracy Liu, Asher Habicht and Karen Block, along with Trokanski.

Dances are accompanied by Trokanski’s narrative or by individual dancers’ recorded “stories” of stressors in their lives, some of which set the stage for particular dance numbers.

In one number, the message is about the daily pressures of life: “Have I remembered to put everything in my purse?” “Where are my keys?” “Is there a traffic jam?” “Am I overwhelmed at work?” etc. She compares the stress to the Lucy/Ethel episode of working in the candy factory, with the ever-increasing speed of the conveyor belt. The dancers make the machine, with all the automatic actions while the recorded speakers dance the role of the overwhelmed person. It was an amazing bit of synchronized action that went on so long I don’t know how the dancers had energy to move to the next number.

After a couple of numbers which give suggestions for how to use meditation to slow down our rapid thought processes, there is a beautiful finale, with each dancer holding a lighted candle — and doing an amazing amount of rolling around just barely not touching the candles! They gather together to “Sleeping at Last” for their final bow.

This is a beautiful, meaningful recital, easily enjoyed whether you know dance or not. Just don’t try to follow the printed program.

Tuesday, October 23, 2018

Sweat

A very strong, compelling play, with adult language, is now at Capital Stage.  “Sweat,” by Lynn Nottage was the 2017 Pulitzer prize winner for drama.  It is very much a play for today and one with which many will identify.  The New Yorker calls this the “first theatrical landmark of the Trump era,” a work which attempts to explain the nationwide anxiety that helped put Donald J. Trump in the White House.

In 2008, two men, Jason (Ian Hopps) and Chris (Tarig Elsiddig) have just been released from prison and are meeting with their parole officer (James R. Ellison III).  We don’t know why they were imprisoned or what the bad blood between these formerly good friends is, but in flashbacks (aided by TV news clips showing politicians and timely news as well as relevant tunes of the day) we see what led up to their incarceration.

The setting is Reading, Pennsylvania, which was in 2002 named the “poorest town in America.”  There is a Cheers-like bar (though cheerless) presided over by bartender Stan (Matt K. Miller).  Into the bar come the six regulars and the janitor Oscar (Evan Lucero).

Except for Stan and Oscar, everyone has worked at the local mill for decades (Stan had to quit because of an injury.  “Getting injured was the best thing that ever happened to me.  Got me out of that vortex.”) and the underlying feelings of anger and frustration are apparent from the beginning.

The conversation all centers around working conditions, poor pay and fear that they will lose their jobs if the factory move to Mexico–and then what will they do? 
Two of the women, Jessie (Kelley Ogden) and Cynthia (Kathryn Smith-McGlynn) decide to apply for a position in upper management, which will mean more money, fewer hours, and the chance to help those on the floor better their conditions.

Things begin to fall apart when Cynthia is hired and friendships begin to shatter over working conditions and what she can, or should do about them.

When the worst happens and the workers are locked out of the factory (without even given the chance to clean out their lockers) everyone learns the cruel lesson that you can be a dedicated worker for decades, do your job, often work overtime without pay, graciously accept less than ideal working conditions, but when push comes to shove, you mean nothing to the managers. It doesn’t pay to be a “good guy.”

As Stan says, “I’m in the hospital for nearly two months.  I can’t walk.  Can’t feel my toes.  Not one of those ***s called to check on me, to say ‘I’m sorry for not fixing the machine...’ The only time I heard from them was when they sent their lawyer to the hospital because they didn’t want me to sue. Twenty-eight years.  That’s when I knew I was nobody to them.  Nobody!”

Though this is set in 2000 and 2008, one of the characters swears he will never vote again because what is the use?  (Which may be the best excuse to remind people to get out and vote in 2 weeks!).

Michael Stevenson has directed a tight, riveting drama that will have an impact on everyone, whether part of the upper class, or one of those who are experiencing such situations every day. It is one of those “not to be missed” productions for which Capitol stage is often known and there’s not a weak link in the cast.  Everyone is at the top of their game.








Sweat

A very strong, compelling play, with adult language, is now at Capital Stage.  “Sweat,” by Lynn Nottage was the 2017 Pulitzer prize winner for drama.  It is very much a play for today and one with which many will identify.  The New Yorker calls this the “first theatrical landmark of the Trump era,” a work which attempts to explain the nationwide anxiety that helped put Donald J. Trump in the White House.

In 2008, two men, Jason (Ian Hopps) and Chris (Tarig Elsiddig) have just been released from prison and are meeting with their parole officer (James R. Ellison III).  We don’t know why they were imprisoned or what the bad blood between these formerly good friends is, but in flashbacks (aided by TV news clips showing politicians and timely news as well as relevant tunes of the day) we see what led up to their incarceration.

The setting is Reading, Pennsylvania, which was in 2002 named the “poorest town in America.”  There is a Cheers-like bar (though cheerless) presided over by bartender Stan (Matt K. Miller).  Into the bar come the six regulars and the janitor Oscar (Evan Lucero).

Except for Stan and Oscar, everyone has worked at the local mill for decades (Stan had to quit because of an injury.  “Getting injured was the best thing that ever happened to me.  Got me out of that vortex.”) and the underlying feelings of anger and frustration are apparent from the beginning.

The conversation all centers around working conditions, poor pay and fear that they will lose their jobs if the factory move to Mexico–and then what will they do? 
Two of the women, Jessie (Kelley Ogden) and Cynthia (Kathryn Smith-McGlynn) decide to apply for a position in upper management, which will mean more money, fewer hours, and the chance to help those on the floor better their conditions.

Things begin to fall apart when Cynthia is hired and friendships begin to shatter over working conditions and what she can, or should do about them.

When the worst happens and the workers are locked out of the factory (without even given the chance to clean out their lockers) everyone learns the cruel lesson that you can be a dedicated worker for decades, do your job, often work overtime without pay, graciously accept less than ideal working conditions, but when push comes to shove, you mean nothing to the managers. It doesn’t pay to be a “good guy.”

As Stan says, “I’m in the hospital for nearly two months.  I can’t walk.  Can’t feel my toes.  Not one of those ***s called to check on me, to say ‘I’m sorry for not fixing the machine...’ The only time I heard from them was when they sent their lawyer to the hospital because they didn’t want me to sue. Twenty-eight years.  That’s when I knew I was nobody to them.  Nobody!”

Though this is set in 2000 and 2008, one of the characters swears he will never vote again because what is the use?  (Which may be the best excuse to remind people to get out and vote in 2 weeks!).

Michael Stevenson has directed a tight, riveting drama that will have an impact on everyone, whether part of the upper class, or one of those who are experiencing such situations every day. It is one of those “not to be missed” productions for which Capitol stage is often known and there’s not a weak link in the cast.  Everyone is at the top of their game.