When my brother died I made an epitaph for him in the form of a book. This is a replica of it, as close as we could get. -- Anne Carson
Rashaun Mitchell, by and large, is a quiet presence in NOX, his lovely, site-adjustable collaboration with poet Anne Carson, running now at Danspace Project, based on a book Carson wrote about the elusive brother she lost twice--the second time to death. My strongest memories of Mitchell find him striding the perimeter of the performance space, his entire body an icon of clarity and cool, or resting on the floor with his legs tucked around like a cat's tail or standing at a distance with a calm gaze fixed on Silas Riener.
Reiner carries the oddness, the frenzy, the passion of NOX--hurtling from one doorway to another, writhing and melting around columns, crawling down steps on his elbows and creating arresting sculpture out of his human body.
This night veers from cool to electric, from absence to presence, from safety to emergency, always with the possibility that these things will intermingle. Everything is painted in light and shadows (breathtaking painterly effects by Davison Scandrett), especially the doors and stained-glass windows of St. Mark's Church's balcony. Scandrett's lighting can imitate time's subtle passage, build anticipation of an arrive, make the immaterial visible and exalted. It is an extraordinary gift to these beautiful master dancers and exquisite poet.
With live performances by Carson (text), Benjamin Miller (music) and Robert Currie.
Rashaun Mitchell's Nox at Danspace Project now through Saturday, 8pm. Seating is limited, specially arranged for this production and, as you might expect, tickets are pfffttt! gone! Try the waiting list, though. For information, click here.
East 10th Street at Second Avenue, Manhattan