BWW Reviews: Junk Ensemble at La Ma Ma Moves Festival

Friday, May 22 2015, at La MaMa's Ellen Stewart Theater, saw the U.S. premiere of Junk Ensembles' "Dusk Ahead" as part of the 10th annual La MaMa Moves Festival. Sisters Jessica and Megan Kennedy co-directed this very exciting Dublin based company, creating a visceral work in collaboration with the dancers, along with sound designer Denis Clohessy. The performers play equal parts dancer and pit band, picking up ukuleles and triangles at moments to accompany live cellist, Egil Rostad.

The production notes specifically say that "dusk is the hour between dog and wolf, from domestic to wild." Much of the dancing in "Dusk" is partially hidden by shadows and smoke (shout out to the superbly haunting lighting design by Sarah Jane Sheils.) The stage's foggy atmosphere left the audience with little warning as the dancers entered and exited swiftly-- sometimes alone, often in couples, and even aggressively fighting blindfolded, guided only by a designated referee: a dancer who hits a steel triangle marking the end of each fighting increment (and to protect the dueling dancers from falling into Sabine Dargents set design of cascading cello strings.) The ensemble created an interplay between technically strong and poised dancers who, through some unspoken force, were prone to act out in bestial ways.

There were several animalistic motifs that served the work's apparent theme of questioning perception and reality: the repeated stage walk of a mysterious wolf head worn by three of the dancers at different moments and, most memorably, a birdlike solo executed by the tallest member of the cast, Miguel do Vale. He wandered the stage with an arched back and hyper extended legs while skimming the stage, sporting a deconstructed grey tutu and apparatus with a bird's beak. A bit of a history nerd myself, I couldn't help but see a correlation between "Dusk" and Asadata Dafora's landmark 1936 solo, "Ostrich," in which Dafora, wearing a bird like skirt, engaged in Ostrich-like movement , effectively West African with early modern dance forms. The melding of human and animal isn't a groundbreaking choreographic tool. Dafora was significantly more successful in this endeavor.

The duet material throughout the piece had its own carnal edge, with unexpected drops and tackles. Those moments of aggression were so finely staged that they solicited gasps from the audience who, no doubt, feared for the performers' well-being, or at least the cellist's.

The work ended on a serene note, with one solo dancer blindfolded under a single spotlight that fades out on an array of infinitely trickling pieces of Mylar. Not everything about darkness is scary. There is calmness in invisibility.