out at the Joyce
March 10, 2011
In Exit, Keigwin’s first evening-length choreography, he spotlights the dark side we usually keep quiet and private. He lets it all hang out. Protected by his typical good nature, he airs the dirty laundary amidst figurative bells and whistles. Actually, there are fireworks in the set.
The one-hour exposé I saw at the Joyce March 9 comprises Keigwin’s 2011 Joyce season. The taboo is a favorite artistic theme and the stage is the ultimate place to safely perform it. Exit’s high-powered dance disturbs our demons. But here it is.
The dancers begin by treading forward and backwards into an upstage black wall punctuated by a fire exit door. In the usual A-B-A structure, the ending is similar. Though predictable, it still satisfies as all’s-well-that-ends-well. Perpetuity, expressed in the loop of this dance, is part of the message. Though there are only seven dancers, they fill the stage and the choreography keeps us engaged throughout, with the help of a great score, bared buns and cleavage, the cozy black décor, and Burke Wilmore’s light show.
Jerome Begin performs dance-oriented-rock on an electronic keyboard in a corner of the house. Co-composer Chris Lancaster contributed recorded cello. The musicality of Exit is its finest feature. The highlight is a central dance in chemical-blue black light; the cast jumps in white stilettos with jubilant passages of piano, holding us rapt and awed. Keigwin said in the after talk that a club performance by Scott the Blue Bunny (Scott Heron) inspired his use of the shoes for all the cast, male and female. Cross-dressing is one of the “dark habits” that Keigwin admits in Exit, along with smoking, clingy co-dependence, drugging, ‘indecent’ exposure, and best of all, dancing.
The door is a two-way portal to freedom. Aaron Carr exits, then returns in a gauzy dress and the silvery heels. He vogues to "I Gotta Be Me" with the cast; their costumes range from corsets and torn stockings to a leather collar and straps. Co-choreographer Liz Riga commands with her fascinating performance, but everyone has their moment in the black light. Among the solos, Ryoji Sasamoto’s backward and forward flips are high art. Keigwin truly takes the low and elevates it beyond reproof.
All stops come out when fireworks stream into the stage. A sleaze stupor follows; then they settle back into quotidian pacing— until the next party.
Most will find something annoying in Exit. I never understand smoking on stage and I don’t like strobes. But warnings about strobes went the way of “Microwave in Use” and curbing dogs. Still, I’d submit myself to it again. The cast revels in their night of bad behavior. Exit liberates us too.
Photo by Christopher Duggan