January 19, 2005
Will and Grace
By Trey Graham
Paata Tsikurishvili is another director who’s gifted
at taking familiar stories and finding startling, visually
expressive ways to make them fresh – the Synetic Theater’s
Salomé, to name just one – but for his latest
project he started not with a text but with an idea: Bohemians
is an all but wordless survey of human hubris and error, a
sinuous movement piece that starts with a hypnotic account
of the Fall and tracks our sorry story right up to the present
with a funny-poignant sequence about cloning.
Actually, it starts a bit before the Fall, with a mass of
black-clad dancers making like molecules in some primordial
soup as someone makes moody noises on a cello. Pizzicato strings
strike, fingers flutter like electrical discharges, and the
writhing, vibrating bits of matter have coalesced into something
that divides, in turn, into two. Individuation, gender, partnership,
offspring- and soon enough a black-masked figure insinuating
himself serpentlike into the scene, proffering an apple that
glitters a seductive gold.
If you’re wondering why it sounds more like modern dance
than theater, you’re probably not wondering alone –
but then the Synetic style has always been movement-based,
and fans of Paata and Paata’s actress-choreographer
wife, Irina Tsikurishvili, won’t feel too lost. If some
of the philosophical or physical gestures that constitute
Bohemians’ 90-ish minutes will strike the jaundiced
eye as pat or passé, it’s still an inventive
and vigorous exercise, and the seven Syneticians involved
throw themselves into it with enough energy and conviction
to make it fun.
And moving, at least occasionally: Standout moments include
a particularly lyrical passage in the tale of Cain and Abel,
in which a healthy harvest, a blighted crop, a slaughtered
goat, and a sacrificial flame are all evoked by graceful,
economic movements of hand or arm or body. A later sequence
retells the Tower of Babel story (only here do words briefly
augment the idiosyncratic music the underscores the entire
business), and later still a witty if perhaps overlong section,
“The Age of Kings,” plays variations on themes
of power – power lusted for, power abused, power as
plaything, power lost.
It’s an ensemble show, to be sure, but Synetic regular
Greg Marzullo gets a little more stage time than the others,
playing, Cain, the Tempter, and other key figures with an
impressive fluidity and strength. Irina Tsikurishvili, always
a figure of immense presence and poise, is the other standout.
Ultimately, in fact, the performances are what keep Bohemians
from what might, in less devoted and skillful hands, read
like a trite little treatise on human nature. The evening
ends with a suggestion that there might be a little hope if,
the next time it’s offered, we can manage to take a
pass on that apple. What it really holds out, though, is the
simple gift of unabashed, uninhibited art.