WORN GROOVES
Steger’s last full-length solo work, Rented Movies, used the metaphor of a tired comedy routine to examine the loneliness of a certain “underground” gay scene. In Worn Grooves he builds on that theme by playfully postulating love as a rut. The metaphor is charmingly obvious in the opening moments of the piece, as Steger, dressed in white as a generic Arab and with generic Middle Eastern music droning in the background, recounts a story a friend told him “in strictest confidence” as if it were his own. It is the story of two men attempting tantric or spiritually based sex in the middle of the desert. But the men’s bodies simply refuse to cooperate. “We were sitting in almost lotus positions,” Steger says, and as passions flared, their bodies “became one much more quickly than expected.” The entire escapade is farcically clunky, ending with an obscenely nonchalant “Can I get you a towel?” The only thing the storyteller can really remember is the image of the grooves worn into the sand dunes all around them. These grooves form a pattern that weaves the men into a vast arid landscape, trapped perhaps in an endless barren beauty.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
The finality of the Rolodex clunking into the garbage can is nearly heartbreaking. Yet Steger’s work is not self-pitying in the slightest. His images are personal but wholly accessible. And he always maintains a sense of humor, allowing his audience to laugh gently at moments that seem all too familiar.
