THE NEXT GENERATION PROJECT
And it’s a young group. Their dances are filled with fears and obsessions that they can’t always overcome. They contemplate adolescence, relive bits of childhood, and look inside themselves. They are very much caught up in the storm of early adulthood, with its attempts to find and live by values that will last longer than the next fashion trend.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Rossen and Walden’s movement centers on obsessive rituals involving food: smashing rice cakes to bits or carefully stacking them; carrying armfuls of marshmallows or standing under showers of them. When the dance is over the stage is littered with rice-cake chunks, marshmallows, discarded clothing, and shredded lettuce and cabbage.
In her solo Door Julia Mayer McCarthy also seems to be haunted–by something that floats above her, out of our sight. With great absorption she wipes her face, rubs her hands, rocks, pets the sole of her foot, and drags herself across the floor. After collapsing and lying motionless, she pulls herself to a sitting position and draws the outline of a door with her finger. A program note, taken from James Baldwin, tells us that “one does many things, turns the key in the lock over and over again, hoping to be locked out.” McCarthy seems to embody that repetitious turning of the key, the obsessive repetition of a significant act. In her last gestures McCarthy seems to back away from the locked door.
Lark’s three women (Lauren Helfand, Christy Munch, and Heather Solz), wearing short black dresses, sometimes move quickly through the space and sometimes freeze. A curious lunge with the arms held in front like a statue of Buddha for some reason made me think of stewardesses. Most of the movement has potential–it’s loose but it has a speed and precision that suggests Tim Buckley crossed with Merce Cunningham.
