What is dance? How do we define it? Who has the authority to say what is or isn’t dance? All of these questions whizzed through my head as I watched the RoseAnn Spradlin show with mouth agape (most of the time), eyes wild, and head spinning at the cacophony of movement flashing right in front of me. Even as I think back to the performance, I still cannot say that I know exactly what the choreographer was trying to say in her piece. The stage was set up in way that allowed members of the audience to sit in very close proximity to the dancers. So close, in fact, that there were times during the performance that the dancers reached out and touched some of the viewers. The surrounding stage lights were dim, the guidelines on the stage were visible, and there were mirrors all around. A feeling of uncertainty and trepidation filled the room and all of the previous elements only added to these feelings. The first thing I notice as I walk into the inner stage area is a nude woman playing a bass guitar. I am already taken aback by this because I was not expecting nudity to be such a prominent feature of the show. Donna warned us that the show was going to be very intense, but I could have never imagined its magnitude.
The show begins in a calm, but quite ominous manner. The first dancer, the woman who was playing the bass guitar, stands quietly, a look of stoic fearlessness in her eyes. She powerfully walks around the stage before she places a shoulder piece and headdress made of silver beads. These two elements change her look dramatically. She emits an aura of something close to divinity. The quiet of the room and the soft clacking of the beads send shivers down my spine as I watch her walk, bend, and stare into the eyes of the audience.
The next vivid memory I have is of the dancer with the blond ponytail laying down on the stage and convulsing in near epileptic shakes. I am so shocked by the sight of this that I have to fight bursting out into a fit of giggles. It wasn’t that I found it funny, it was just that I had never seen anyone do something so out of the ordinary. In fact, I found that the entire performance was different and well… quite strange. Of course, there were elements of familiar dance such as lifts, leaps, and spins; although they were present throughout the entire performance, their significance was overshadowed by the immense power of everything else. The music that Spradlin used in her dance reminded me of the climactic, heart pounding soundtrack of a horror film, the kind that builds up to the unfolding of the plot. For this performance, however, the climax lasted almost the entire show. I was actually frightened by the music, all of these elements compounded together made me uneasy but completely captivated at the same time.
There were two very contrasting moments in the performance. The first was when the live band played a song about self-empowerment and confidence. The song was beautiful, but it sounded a little odd when used with the dance. It was the kind of song found in a brightly lit musical, filled with flowery dresses, frolicking through fields, and colorful backdrops. As the song continued to play, however, I realized just how well it melded with the message of the performance. Despite all of my confusion, I think I understood at least part of what Spradlin was trying to say in her piece. Her message to us is to be confident in your skin; don’t be afraid of people judging you because as long as you do things with tenacity and passion, you will always come out on top. The part of the dance that starkly differed from this song came in the second half of the show. The dancers were walking across the stage in different directions. Although the stage was relatively small, they seemed to be walking with a purpose, using heavy footsteps that echoed through the resounding violins in the background. It seemed to go on forever, when all of a sudden, the women broke out in wild, uninhibited, contorted movements. I jumped in my seat in surprise, looking at Alvin with complete shock at what just happened. And then came the climax of all climaxes, the women screamed at the top of their lungs, throwing down profanities and gut wrenching, earsplitting screams that filled the room and drowned out the music. These two moments together gave a completely different feel from the melifluos song that played earlier in the show.
If someone were to ask me if I liked the show, I don’t think I would be able to give them a simple yes or no. I certainly didn’t dislike it, but I can’t say that I loved it either. It was different, interesting, wild, and in my opinion, an avant garde form of dance. It was an experience that I am glad to have had, but I don’t think I would want to go through it again.
