reSET ALL STARS

An underground passageway. Projections of clouds and fire splitting the stage in half with a staircase leading up to the rafters. The stage was set for a thought-provoking performance by the reSET All Stars. This performance brought together dance and theater communities to celebrate the vibrancy of the Seattle arts community.  In its 10th year, Washington Ensemble Theatre’s reSET program invites choreographers to make new works on the set of The Ensemble’s plays after the play’s run. With the Cowboy with Questions set designed by Trevor Cushman in the intimate 12th Avenue theatre space, the artists immersed us in an evening full of dance, theatre, drag, and humor. The “all star” edition invited previous participants to work with a new set, and week two featured Fox Whitney, Mark Haim, Angel Aguayo, and Cherdonna Shinatra. This show made me think about the power or art, how it provides a space for those who feel voiceless, and a place of empowerment to live one’s truth. These choreographers unpacked ideas of spectacle, identity, queerness, and perspective.

The Descent, choreographed by Fox Whitney, was a journey of perspective and proximity. As the theater darkened, heavily saturated blue light silhouetted the upstairs section of the set. Filling with the shadows of eight dancers’ hands and feet moving in a fluid or staccato pattern, the performers felt close and far away simultaneously. As the title of this piece suggests, the dancers slithered down the stairs one by one entwining themselves across the staircase and each other, collecting in the lower level of the performance space. A man with a camera (Fox Whitney) hovered by, capturing the performers with continuous clicks and flashes. When he first appeared, I wondered why the photographer was taking pictures on stage. Why is his camera flash on? Why is he wearing sunglasses? As the dancers transitioned into mimicking Whitney’s movements I realized he was a part of the performance. Whether the performers’ bodies were entwined, hanging from the ladder connecting the upper and lower levels of the set, or clinging to the railing beside my seat, their movements transcended the confines of the proscenium stage and brought the performance up close and personal to the audience. 

Way Out in the Water, by Cherdonna Shinatra, was an experience that fully immersed the viewer. Beginning the piece in silence with only wind-up toys and her mouthing dialogue to us, we were forced to lean in and pay attention in order to interact with her. With spectacle as her vehicle of choice, Shinatra emerged in a bedazzled lopsided mouth-shaped costume with giant pink lips and partially exposed teeth. Her theatrical presence blended with the angular boundness of her movement to create a dynamic and complex performance. She ripped off her costume to reveal gold tasseled pasties as the audience cheered in support. Shinatra showed joy in the undress but unease in her facial expression while doing it. Twisting, contorting, and throwing her body across the stage, Shinatra came undone from the demure persona she had begun with. Tired of performing for the audience, her focus became internal and her movements more grounded and off balance. Even amid her unraveling, she created humorous moments: kicking wooden posts of the set and hanging from rafters. Speaking for the first time, she exited the stage to the rambunctious hoots and hollers of the audience. 

I Forgive You by Mark Haim changed the entire atmosphere of the performance space. In silence, the lights gradually revealed the eight dancers’ bodies sprawled face down across the floor as if they had just landed from a great fall. The dancers strained to reach their feet as if it took every ounce of their energy. The choreography of the piece was minimal, with the action of the dancers stretching their arms toward the sky taking the entire duration of the piece. The dancer’s execution of the movement, along with the expansive orchestral and chant-like soundscape, gave context to the world of this piece. It felt like the dancers had just survived a traumatic event with their glazed downward expressions and avoidance of eye contact with each other and the audience. As tension rose through the soundscape, relief was found in the rhythmical play of Eva Crystal and Lisa Kwak, who appeared above the set in silhouette, playing a hand-game-like duet. As the two clapped and stomped in unison a feeling of peace came over the theatre. This work by Haim showed how a traumatic event can change someone, but also that it doesn’t always last. And when a part of a community, joy comes in the morning.

Cabeza Nomada, created and performed by Angel Aguayo, navigated the complexities of identity and queerness. It felt like we were looking into the intimate moments of the dancer’s safe space–perhaps a childhood bedroom or drag performance night. Free to express themselves through music and fashion, the dancer lip-sung with wild abandon and performed for the audience as if we were a sell out crowd on their first solo tour. Interrupting knocks on the door and journal entry-like voice-overs used throughout the performance shifted not only the demeanor of the dancer but also showed the parts of their life, such as their call center job and family, that hid or ignored their queer identity. The juxtaposition between the performer’s freedom in their safe space and the conformity needed to survive safely in the world reflects the experience of many queer folks throughout time. Navigating emotions of joy, sorrow, and hope, Angel’s work personifies the choice-making queer-identifying people have to negotiate. Deciding whether being themselves will be supported or shamed. But amid the storm, the determination to remain faithful to oneself with unapologetic boldness shows not only the strength of the performer in this piece but the global fight of queer folks to exist and live their truth. 

Washington Ensemble Theatre‘s reSET All Stars ran September 19-27 at 12th Ave Arts mainstage. The second weekend lineup was reviewed. Featured photo of Fox Whitney’s work. Photo by Erin O’Reilly.