“Relationship” has become an empty word: a Facebook status, some vaguely defined romantic attachment. But, truly, what is a relationship, and how is it formed? Or destroyed?
More Top Picks Ph Soils
Two premieres by two troupes, running through Sunday at Links Hall, tackle that phenomenon, whether obliquely or head-on. Melinda Jean Myers roots “Clover,” her duet for the Cambrians’ Michel Rodriguez Cintra and Benjamin Holliday Wardell, in their personalities and interactions and implies the addition of herself. And in “Stripped,” Joanna Rosenthal Read of Same Planet Different World Dance Theatre takes a macro look at how social media and technology have affected relationships generally.
Myers and the Cambrians, an organization she recently joined, tend to tread lightly; past works have been deceptively casual and ad hoc, approaching comedy. “Clover,” a prototype for a longer show, layers recorded and live audio with movement; a pre-show audience talk verges into a voice-over, and the performance itself, because it’s interrupted by verbal negotiations, can seem more improvisation or rehearsal.
After some athletic but disconnected moves, both men lean over to catch their breath. Eventually, Wardell says their dancing “just felt weird.” Michael Caskey’s audio design in this section is equally random: slowly plucked guitar strings. The next, more pleasing bit is organized by its percolating electronic music. The dancers — nearly mechanical, stereotypically cut-and-dried male — shove their hands in their pockets, do a few situps: nothing out of the ordinary, yet unique.
The final section of “Clover” is accompanied by recorded audio of the two men and Myers moving and talking and, apparently, her baby fussing. Onstage, the men have more contact than before, sometimes running at each other, shoulders striking glancing blows. In the audio, one man starts babbling at the baby, it stops crying, starts laughing, and “Clover” blossoms into joy.
By contrast, Read’s “Stripped” is almost despairing, satirical. Its opening — the five dancers facing one another in a huge circle — is like a junior high dance. Who will pick whom? What will it mean? Jacob Snodgrass’ cold lighting, here and mostly throughout, recapitulates the glare of the computer or phone screen, while the dancers’ anomic faces, isolated in their concentration on something not present, say: Here’s what Facebook’s popularity contest does to you.
Read’s inventive choreography — two deliquescent women entwined and collapsing, a vibration of limbs that spreads to the whole body, as if galvanized by an electrical current — suggests our addiction to technology, while a final solo reflects what we’ve lost. Unfortunately, though, and despite fine dancing, “Stripped” is in a way too hard-hitting, too focused on its task, to succeed.
3 STARS
When: 7 p.m. Friday through Sunday
Where: Links Hall, 3111 N. Western Ave.
Running time: 70 minutes
Tickets: $15-$20 at 773-281-0824 or linkshall.com