CHRIS AIKEN
Another crucial factor in improv is the performers’ familiarity with each other. Aiken, a Minneapolitan appearing as part of the Midwest Exchange at Link’s, brought with him two very good friends: performance artist Patrick Scully, with whom he regularly improvises, and dancer Cathy Young, Aiken’s wife. In fact Aiken and Scully’s ease with each other formed the bedrock of the first piece, Common Denominator (or Improvisation No. 81) Part I. The two are an odd combination physically: Aiken is tiny, a pixieish Baryshnikov with deep-set eyes, and Scully is tall, blond, and ponytailed, with a broad Nordic head and a wingspan like an eagle’s. Something of a Laurel and Hardy set, they also seem to adopt those comedians’ personas–Scully often plays the dominant “straight” man, the grown- up, and Aiken is his quieter but loopier sidekick.
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They began by sitting side by side on two chairs. When the el rumbled past, Scully said, “My mother’s on that train.” After a few more jumbled but fairly naturalistic remarks (“If the buzzer rings, better answer it–it might be her”), Scully started stretching his mouth in a very impolite kind of way and speaking in a high, squeaky, almost incomprehensible voice; meanwhile Aiken acted as his verbal and physical shadow, repeating and sometimes amplifying or garbling what he’d said. Scully’s high pitch turned into a low pitch, which turned into yawns, which produced a deal of stretching from side to side and leaning against each other. At some point the loud yawning merged into roars, then abruptly stopped, and the two primly scooched their chairs back together again.
The fact is, in this Common Denominator the performers took care of us. The verbalizing was a way of reducing our anxiety. At one awkward point Scully was leaning back on his hands in a sort of backward crouch and Aiken was prone across the tabletop of his torso, his legs resting on Scully’s shoulders, his face hovering above Scully’s knees. Aiken’s look said as clear as day, “Now what?” Suddenly, as if the two had been hit by simultaneous bolts of inspiration, Aiken was doing a butterfly stroke and Scully was saying “I want you to do it just how we practiced.” Then Scully added a rocking motion to the proceedings, which Aiken embellished with a momentary seasick look.
Aiken and Young choreographed and performed the last piece, One Day Our Paths Crossed, which agreeably showcases the romantic side of their own relationship. The tumbling and swinging motions that marked both Common Denominator pieces were repeated here, but I found that the occasional dancey finishing touches detracted from the movement’s freewheeling style.
