This Woman's Work: Part 3 is a two-hour-plus program that's bursting at the seams with talent. If you love Ronald K. Brown/Evidence, you'll want to see TWW3 because so many bright lights who have graced that troupe and more are in evidence here at Harlem Stage at Aaron Davis Hall (135th Street and Convent Avenue), both as dancemakers and as performers. Tonight's your last chance to go. And do go. Last evening, there were plenty of seats available for you, and that's too bad because the point of This Woman's Work--the brainchild of co-directors Bridget L. Moore and Princess Mhoon Cooper--is to give much-needed attention to emerging women choreographers of the African diaspora. These women ought to be seen anywhere and everywhere that dance is welcomed and supported; all of our artistic minds need to be working together and learning from one another.
The program--which opens with a showy danced introduction to all of the choreographers--includes ensemble pieces by Cooper, Francine Elizabeth Ott, Shani Nwando Ikerioha Collins (who bills herself here as SNIC) and Makeda Thomas. The incomparable Camille A. Brown dances her solo to music by Ella Fitzgerald, Betty Carter and Nancy Wilson. Ursula Payne's duet had to be cut because Payne had worsened a back injury sustained earlier in the week.
The ensemble works by Moore and Ott, although handsomely performed, suffered from a similar reliance and emphasis on big, bustling abstract movement in tiresome unison. "Please, let's see a solo," I thought (and voiced to the colleague sitting beside me). "Something focused, quiet, small, a lot of small, specific, intricate, absorbing things--just as a challenge. Show us what else you can do." No sooner did I wish that than Brown breezed onto the stage, a hat dipped low over her eyes, and launched into The Evolution of A Secured Feminine. (What a title! But, by the end of this tour de force, you understand it.) It certainly could not be called quiet or small, but it had lots of tiny, vivid treasures, specific, focused movements danced with frightening control and pieced together like letters tapped out on a keyboard by a speed-demon-typist-with-attitude, and the message was "Don't fuck with me, sucker!" I adored this dance, and so did the audience who could not get enough of Brown.
Collins, my other Ron Brown favorite, brought something I don't recall witnessing on a dance stage: the deep sobbing of a woman releasing years of pain followed swiftly by the lilting, healing reverberation of women's laughter. Her quartet, Don't Live Here Go, is a sacred ritual of cleansing, supported by one's sisters on the path. It has singing, bold dancing and attractive theatrical design--in particular, the mound of straw, dispensed from white satin pillows, that makes a lovely shushing sound as dancers pass through it--but some parts lose focus where it's hard to tell exactly what's going on and why.
Inspired by the words of Mozambican women with HIV/AIDS, Thomas's A Sense of Place achieves the rare successful blending of humanistic feeling and meaning with sophisticated visual style. The movement seamlessly combines African and modern influences. Thomas is, herself, a dancer of serious interest and brings out integrity in her partners Khaleah London and Collins. Clearly Thomas learned many discomforting truths from the women she interviewed for her original video. However, with the sure touch of a poet, she has distilled this into just enough telling words, just enough flashes of video imagery--all of these appearing only to fade away--to create a balanced atmosphere for the dancing trio. The piece--which I saw in an earlier version--has been evolving for a while and might have a bit further to go. In any case, Thomas is a choreographer well worth keeping in sight.
It's hard to say which W of TWW has the boldest vision, but Cooper is certainly a contender with her Dangerous Liaisons--social satire of the sassiest, most acidic variety. Theatrical with a big T--thank you!--this piece rips the polite covers off a trio of well-to-do couples at a dinner party served by three maids. Clever choreography, dancing and acting make this a sure bet for audiences, although I wondered how best to respond to what I was being shown--with derision? judgment? horror? sadness? Is it really funny to watch a wife mime stuffing herself with food, really scarfing it down in defiance of her husband and then dancing in such a wrenching way you fear she'll mime barfing? Or to watch another husband and wife bicker and fight (only to slip off to a bedroom to make up--for the moment)? The only scenario I enjoyed involved the wife who kept slipping out of her husband's watch to go dance with the maids. Yeah! Way more fun! You go, girl!
For tickets for tonight's TWW3 show at 7:30, visit Harlem Stage's Web page.