I’ve never been on a blind date but there’s something enticing about walking into the unknown with somewhat equal chance of disaster or delight. In a world where TikTok saw it first, and Google Maps provides play-by-play “best practices” for any and every experience, I feel a bit robbed of the magic of curiosity.
In January, I let curiosity lead. I chose two performances outside of my typical contemporary dance tendencies — Benji Reid’s Find Your Eyes, an amalgam of theater, photography and choreography, and a contemporary opera inspired by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa’s classic story, In A Grove. I chose to go blind, abstaining from researching or review reading, and coming in as a novice to both forms. I’ve only ever seen two operas in my life and Benji Reid’s work has been very deliberately protected from the internet. Reid specifically thanked his audience for being curious enough to come see the show without much context, “I admit, it’s not a great way to sell tickets, but that’s not my problem”, he half-joked.
In Find Your Eyes, I witnessed Reid and his dancers build worlds and stories with their bodies. Led by Reid’s voice and sometime his hands, they traverse through societal truths and intimate personal confessions from Reid’s own life. Reid enlivened every sense with incense wafting through the theater, a pulsating live mix (including MF Doom among other selections) and provocative readings contouring the show. We watch Reid at work with his camera lens. Reid excavates the unseen stories in his subjects: a clenched shoulder, an uncomfortable couple portrait, a surrealist tableau, allowing us a glimpse into his mind’s eye as the images are projected back to the audience at the end of each “chapter”.
Continuing the theme of seeing, In A Grove dropped the audience in media res to a murder(!) from which, a Rashomon style collage of testimonies unfold. The staging was simple but impactful: the audience flanks a single runway bissected by a moving screen. With a live ensemble, composer Christopher Cerrone, created unsettling textures from both live vocals/instrumentals and synthetic effects that fuzzied my understanding of what was real and what was manipulated. Where my expectation wanted me to condemn a culprit, I soon learned that what I had witnessed was, in fact, a kaleidoscope of truths co-existing, each coloured by the inner world of the four characters.
Going blind, opened up new ways of seeing. I yielded the crutch of expectation, leaving room only for wonder. This month, I’ve curated a list of really exciting work across genres and forms, and I encourage you to take a chance on one. Tell a friend (with just a click of the share button) or go it alone. Whatever you choose, just submit to curiosity!
LIVE CULTURES: FEBRUARY PICKS
And We, Each @ National Sawdust
(February 6th)
Michael Hersch's wrenching libretto after the poetry of Shane McCrae, explores the treacherous territories of relationships—between individuals, within societies and, ultimately, the collapse of both. This is a one-night only affair, and at just $30 a ticket, how can you not?
Akram Khan’s GIGENSIS @ The Joyce Theatre
(February 12th-16th)
A master of alchemy, British-Bangladeshi choreographer, Akram Khan fuses Indian Kathak and contemporary dance in his latest work, GIGENIS: The generation of the Earth. Accompanied by a collective of distinguished classical Indian dance artists, Khan invokes memories across time and place to bring to tell the story a woman in the midst of war and profound grief. I’ve seen Khan’s work multiple times. He is a force and a master of both immensity and intricacy. For Florence + The Machine fans, he is the choreographer behind the Big God music video. I get goosebumps every time I watch.
Ralph Lemon’s LOW @ MoMA PS1
(February 20th and 22nd)
Ceremonies Out of the Air: Ralph Lemon is a major exhibition up at MoMA PS1 (until March 24th) comprising dance, drawings, photographs, sculpture, paintings, and video that explore explorations of generosity, mortality, devotion, Blackness, and joy. The exhibition is accompanied by a program of live works staged in a dedicated performance space. This month, Lemon presents, Low, an unfolding of twenty years of collaboration between Ralph Lemon and dancer Darrell Jones. The duet embodies a physical exploration of the energy that comes after exertion in the wake of performance—the transition from fury and exhaustion to something beyond. I recommend making an evening out of it to also peruse the exhibition. The performance is free to attend with an RSVP.
The Antiquities @ Playwrights Horizons
(Until February 23rd)
At the Museum of Late Human Antiquities, the curators are fiercely committed to bringing a lost civilization to life again: What were humans really like? What did they wear, what did they eat, how did they die out? By casting us into the far future, Jordan Harrison’s new play gives us an uncanny view of the present moment, as we straddle the analog world that was and the post-human world to come.
African Exodus @ PACNYC
(February 27th-March 2nd)
African Exodus embarks on an experimental, metaphysical journey through the African migratory experience. At the heart of African Exodus are over 80 pairs of shoes—transformed into instruments, tools, and markers of the journeys we all take. Each shoe tells a story, navigating the movement of people and their linguistic footprints within the African continent. Culminating with a breathtaking blend of African and Western choral traditions, African Exodus invites you to feel the weight and beauty of a shared human journey, where music, culture, and history converge. Before the show, you can also catch Sounds of Limpopo, a free-to-the-public, two-man musical performance on the PAC’s Lobby Stage.
Which performances are piquing your curiosity? Let me know!
NEW SERIES INCOMING!
In other news, ready your inbox for something new next week. I’m finally releasing my first essay in a new series called Program Notes. This month’s piece, Quiet Feelings, reckons with the life’s rhythm and it’s performance on and off stage. I’m so excited for you all to read and wanted to thank my friends Tari, Stacy, and my mum, Roxanne, for being my trusted and very skilled editors.
Until then, stay cultured!
Excited for program notes!