Author: jdldances

Julinda D. Lewis is a dancer, teacher, and writer, born and raised in Brooklyn, NY and transplanted to Richmond, VA. A retiree from both the New York City and Richmond City Public School systems, she is currently an Adjunct Instructor for the Department of Dance and Choreography at Virginia Commonwealth University, and holds the degrees of BS and MA in Dance and Dance Education (New York University), MSEd in Early Childhood Education (Brooklyn College, CUNY), and EdD in Educational Leadership (Regent University). Julinda is the Richmond Site Leader for TEN/The Eagles Network and was formerly the East Region Coordinator for the International Dance Commission and has worked in dance ministry all over the US and abroad (Bahamas, Barbados, Haiti, Jamaica, Kenya, Puerto Rico). She is licensed in dance ministry by the Eagles International Training Institute (2012), and was ordained in dance ministry through Calvary Bible Institute and Seminary, Martinez, GA (2009).

MOVING MONOLOGUES

KDance Shorts, Eighth Edition

A Dance-Theater Review by Julinda D. Lewis

Presented by: KDance, the Resident Dance Company at The Firehouse Theatre

At: The Firehouse Theatre, 1609 West Broad St., Richmond, RVA 23220

Performances: November 7-9, 2021

Ticket Prices: $25

Info: (804) 355-2001 or firehousetheatre.org.

After eight years of presenting the annual Shorts program, Kaye Weinstein Gary still has new tricks up her sleeve. This year’s program, MOVING MONOLOGUES, was a collaboration between Gary (choreographer, director, performer), Adam Turck (actor), and Irene Ziegler (playwright). While previous Shorts programs have been marked by innovative storytelling combined with movement, this is the first time the stories were all connected.

What a treat it was to reconnect with Kitty, the potty-mouthed fourth-grader introduced by Gary in her most recent YES! Dance Festival (April 2021, https://jdldancesrva.com/2021/05/01/k-dance/). Here, Ziegler has written additional monologues that introduce Kitty’s mother, grandmother, and dad, all of whom are embodied by Gary and Turck, after a brief introductory warm-up set to Erik Satie’s Piano Works #7, Nocturne II. The “Prologue” also introduces the program’s main prop: a pair of crystal clear “ghost” chairs that magically reflect and refract the light and create stunning visual effects.

“Thank you, sensei, for showing me the way.”

-Kitty

“Kitty” has been enhanced to point to connections with the new monologues. Against a background of Ana Roxanne’s non-melodic, ambient soundscape (it sounds like what your mind would sound like if you could record the sound), Kitty moves through postures of dejection and defiance – until she discovers the “superpower” of her imagination. “I have a superpower. Holy shit!” Oh, I did mention she’s been sent to her room because of her vocabulary, didn’t I? Dressed in purple leggings and white coverall shorts, Gary delightfully embodies the spirit of the fourth-grader.

But it just keeps getting better. Next up is Adam Turck as Kitty’s dad, Rodney. Dressed in shorts and carrying a gym bag, Turck, drops the bag just as the beat drops, and it’s MC Hammer’s Too Legit to Quit. Turck, a real-life certified personal trainer, moves through the paces of a man-twerk, slaps himself on the butt, and begins to record a hilariously awkward online dating profile.

“The best you can hope for is to find someone

whose baggage doesn’t clash with yours.”

-Rodney

After a bit of shadow play with a fabric veil, we get to meet Martha, Rodney’s mother. It isn’t clear whether she is in the early stages of dementia, or just lonely. When she receives a package from an unseen delivery man (a potential fourth character for a potential sequel) she drags out their interaction as long as possible. “Can you see me?” Martha asks. “I thought I was made of vapor.” Martha smells like loneliness and goes on eBay at night to order hope. Oh, and that package? It contained the cremated remains of her late husband.

The final monologue in this iteration of Moving Monologues has Rodney talking to his dad’s ashes and returning to the lake house where he spent time with his family when his father was alive, and his mother didn’t feel invisible. Is it just coincidence that the current occupant of the house is named Manny – the same as the delivery guy? The door has been left open to continue this series, much like a serial novel in words and movement.

Ziegler’s script make no direct mention of the pandemic, but Martha’s need to know that she exists feels very much like post-traumatic pandemic syndrome (I don’t know if that’s a real thing or not, but there is such a thing as Pandemic-related PTSD). It’s actually quite remarkable to watch Gary transform from the hopefulness of Kitty to the giddy despair of Martha. She does both so well, adapting her posture and movement dynamics to the character. The words and the movements are measured out teasingly, revealing just enough to keep the narrative flowing, but not enough to answer all our questions. A post-show discussion revealed just how much latitude there was for personal interpretation.

There were so many layers in this short piece, and multiple perspectives played out simultaneously – the same story told by different characters who are all connected. There was a through line, but the sections were not necessarily linear or chronological. In fact, I would be curious to see what would happen if these same five scenes were performed in a different order.

As for the cast, Gary is a dancer who is extremely comfortable with speaking and acting, and it was great to see Turck, an actor, moving with such abandon. MOVING MONOLOGUES is not fully dance and not fully theater but a hybrid niche that Gary claims as her own. While the piece could be performed by a cast of four (Kitty, Martha, Rodney, and Manny – or the Ghost Chair), I think it’s highly effective and serves the multi-layered effect to have it performed by just two. It was such a delight to see and hear these stories on stage, in person. Sometimes less really is more.

MOVING MONOLOGUES

Written by: Irene Ziegler

Cast:

Kaye Weinstein Gary

Adam Turk

Production Team:

K Dance Artistic Director: Kaye Weinstein Gary

Lighting Designer/Scenic Consultation: Matthew Landwehr

Assistant Lighting Designer: Casey Walsted

Production Stage Manager: Ginnie Willard

Assistant Stage Manager: Jason Wineberger

Sound Designer/Production Manager: Todd Labelle

Sound Operator: Emily Vial

Webmaster/Social Media: Emily Gerber

Graphic Artist: Douglas Fuchs

Run Time:

About 45 minutes with no intermission

Performance schedule:

Sunday, November 7 @3:00PM

Monday & Tuesday, November 8 & 9 @7:30PM

”Everyone who enters Firehouse must be fully vaccinated and wear a face mask.”

Tickets:

$25

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STARR FOSTER DANCE: {Your Name Here}

finding yourself in the movement

A Dance Review by Julinda D. Lewis

At: The Conciliation LAB @ The Basement, 300 East Broad Street, RVA 23219

Performances: November 5-7 and 11-13, 2021.

Ticket Prices: $13

Info: www.starrfosterdance.org, www.facebook.com/starrfosterdance, Instagram/starrfosterdance, https://m.bpt.me/event/5281579

For their first home-based performance since February 2020, Starr Foster dance returned to The Basement (it was TheatreLab then, and Conciliation Lab now) with an innovative and timely choreographic work by Artistic Director Starrene Foster mysteriously titled {Your Name Here} finding yourself in the movement.

The trio is performed in an environment framed by four metal trees. Their branches are bare, and the floor is strewn with fall-colored leaves. When the audience walks in, the dancers are already onstage. They stand in a line, arms extended, holding hands. And they whisper. What they’re saying is never revealed. It could be a prayer. It could be confessions of past sins. It could be hope and dreams for the future. It could be the secret things you have not yet voiced to anyone else made manifest in this intimate public space.

I had been invited to a rehearsal of {Your Name Here} finding yourself in the movement a few days earlier, but here in this setting, with lights and an audience, it was an entirely new experience. And just two days earlier, I had seen a performance of Our Town, so perhaps the simplicity of that set and the everyday-ness of Thornton Wilder’s storytelling lingered and influenced how I saw {Your Name Here} finding yourself in the movement.

Or maybe it’s more obvious than that, because, after all, Foster did put you right in the title: {Your Name Here}. Julinda. Starr. Thomas. Albert. You. Yes, this work is about you. The everyday, ordinary you. The secret you. The post-pandemic. You. That’s why there are FOUR trees. One for each of the dancers. And the fourth one is for…you.

Trees. Trees represent life and growth. The tree of life. The tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Trees are symbols of wisdom, power, growth, and prosperity. In mythology, trees are home to spirits. They represent physical and spiritual nourishment and transformation. In winter, their branches are bare. In spring they burst forth with new life. In summer they bear fruit. In fall, they drop their leaves, and appear dead to the outside world, but inside, under the earth, where their roots dig deep, they are actively creating, preparing to repeat the cycle all over again. These trees are bare, and their leaves are scattered on the ground, the floor. This is where the dancers find themselves, where we find ourselves.

Foster has a new, pared down company of four women. The opening night cast consisted of Fran Beaumont, Ana Pavón, and Lydia Ross. Each has a moment or two to shine in this 37-minute long work, performed without intermission. Each of the three performs Foster’s choreography in Foster’s unique style – a contemporary genre that reflects stylistic and technical aspects of ballet, modern, post-modern pedestrianism, contact improvisation, and whatever else as needed – but each dancer also brings their own personality. Beaumont has a strong, powerful core wrapped up in a wide-eyed vulnerability, sort of like those iron gym weights that have a rubber outershell to keep you from hurting yourself too badly when you inevitably drop them. Ross’ perfect lines and cat-like softness so beautifully mask the technical expertise that power her hypnotic movement. Pavón is languid, unhurried. She is the one who takes an extended nap in the garden while Beaumont and Ross, continue on the journey, sometimes holding hands or leaning on one another.

The dancers move the trees from a straight line into a cozy, protective grove, then into a wandering tree line. Sometimes they lean into the branches, touching, stroking, gently fingering and shedding a handful of scattered leaves. Sometimes Beaumont and Pavón curl themselves around their trees, and at one point one of the three even dragged her tree along. They even tip over the trees and lie awkwardly but content beneath its branches. Sometimes life’s trials lead us back home, back to the place where we feel loved, nourished, renewed. Sometimes we have to plod along, carrying all our baggage with us for a while. Where do you see yourself in this scenario?

Foster first conceived of the idea – and the trees – then found the music of Sebastian Selke and Daniel Selke. The Berlin-born duo known as CEEYS plays piano and cello and the pieces Foster selected (“Eichenthal 302,” “Waende,” “Circa,” “Winter Sleep,” and “Strelka”) have repetitive motifs that support and expand the movement phrases Foster created. The lighting design bu Austin Harber is subtle, and much less dark than Foster has been known to favor. And if this seems like a lot of words for one 37-minute long work, well, that’s because so much is packed into

{Your Name Here} finding yourself in the movement and the open invitation to insert yourself and your story into this choreographic journey is so immersive. {Your Name Here} finding yourself in the movement is just what we need at this time.

{Your Name Here} finding yourself in the movement

Choreography by Starrene Foster

Cast

Fran Beaumont (Nov. 5, 7, 12, 13@5PM)

Anna Branch (Nov 6, 11, 13@8PM)

Ana Pavón

Lydia Ross

Music Composed and Performed by CEEYS

Sebastian Selke and Daniel Selke

“Eichtenthal 302,” “Waende,” “Circa,” “Winter Sleep,” and “Strelka”

Lighting Design by Austin Harber

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Julinda D. Lewis is a dancer, teacher, and writer who was born in Brooklyn, NY and now lives in Eastern Henrico County.

Photo Credits: Starr Foster Dance by Douglas Hayes. NOTE: Photos were not yet available at the time of posting.

OUR TOWN

“Does Anyone Ever Realize Life While They Live It?

A Theater Review by Julinda D. Lewis

At: The Ashland Theatre, 205 England Street, Ashland, VA 23005

Performances: November 3, 12 & 13, 2021

Ticket Prices: November 3: Pay What You Can. November 12 & 13: $10 donation.

Info: whistlestoptheatre@gmail.com

Nothing out of the ordinary happens in Thornton Wilder’s Pulitzer Prize-winning play, OUR TOWN, and that is precisely the point. But first, a confession: like many of you, I have heard of OUR TOWN, but this is the first time I have every actually seen it.

Presented in three acts, “Daily Life,” “Love and Marriage,” and “Death and Eternity,” the play – a metadrama, if you will, that is narrated by the Stage Manager (Craig Keeton) – follows the simple, everyday lives of two families who live in the fictional New Hampshire town of Grover’s Corners from 1901 to 1914. Children grow up. People fall in love and get married. Others die. And therein lies the thick of the plot.

Using minimal props (four ordinary wooden chairs, two wooden ladders, and a couple of those all-purpose black cubes that most theater companies seem to have in stock) Wilder takes us on a languidly breath-taking journey that reveals the complexities and the beauty of life. Of every life. Of your life and mine. Do we take the time to look at one another? Do we really listen to one another? Are we really present in our own lives? Mrs. Webb (Barbara Keeton) insists that, as important as reading is, Wally (William Young) put his book down at the breakfast table. (I don’t need to tell you to translate that to today’s smartphone, but I just did.) Rebecca Gibbs (Ziona Tucker) sneaks into her brother’s room because his window has a better view of the full moon, and another character – I don’t remember which – takes time to enjoy the moon as well as the scent of Mrs. Gibbs’ heliotrope. (For those of us who had no clue, that’s a fragrant, often purple-colored flower often used to make perfume. And yes, to make another obvious statement, that’s example of taking time to stop and smell the, well, flowers…)

Emily’s mama assures her that she is, in fact, pretty. “You’re pretty enough for all normal purposes.” And when Emily (Louise Keeton) can’t find a blue hair ribbon her mother left out for her, Mrs. Webb says, “if it were a snake it would have bitten you,” the exact words my own grandmother wielded on my youthful overlooking of the obvious. Simon Stimson, the organist and choir director for one of the town’s churches (there are multiple denominations, with the Congregationalists and Methodists near the center of town, the Baptists down by the river and the Catholics on the other side of the tracks), has a drinking problem. People gossip about him, but they also look out for him, and we never learn the cause of his unnamed troubles. The point is, OUR TOWN really is about the best of each and every one of us.

The play starts on May 7, 1901. Dr. Gibbs (John Gordon) is the overworked town doctor, there is a stable for the horses, and it is deemed downright weird for anyone to lock their doors at night. George Gibbs (Axle Burtness) and Emily Webb (Louise Keeton) meet in high school. Act 2 takes place three years later. It’s July 7, 1904, when students have graduated and turn their attention to marriage. George and Emily get married right after intermission.

SPOILER ALERT: Don’t read the next paragraph if you don’t know what happens in the third act.

The third act takes place nine years later. It’s 1913. Horses are becoming a rare sight on the main streets and people have started locking their doors. Emily has died giving birth to her second child and the rest of the play takes place in the town cemetery after a philosophical monologue by the Stage Manager and a simple yet touching processional in which Emily is surrounded by her remaining family. (I won’t give away everything; even I have my limitations!)

Some comic relief is provided by Dean Knight as Simon Stimson, the drunken choir director. Knight appears up in the balcony, usually with a bottle, or some sort of drinking prop in his hand. Props are rare commodities in OUR TOWN. Most actions are mimed by the ensemble, some with more clarity than others. A wonderfully awkward moment occurs when George visits his future father-in-law (Roger Reynolds on November 2, Frank Creasey on November 12 and 13) on the morning of the wedding. And the soft-spoken Emily gives George a piece of her mind, striding from the stage to the back of the audience, forcing us to turn and crane our necks like voyeurs watching a couple’s very public argument.

Some cast members have been given multiple roles. Most notably, Ziona Tucker gave little sister Rebecca Gibbs just the right amount of sassiness, balanced friendliness and servitude as newspaper boy, Howie Newsome appeared constrained as mortician Joe Stoddard with a long church jacket that appeared to have been misbuttoned. (Was that intentional, or no?). William Young also breezed through multiple roles as little brother Wally Webb, Si Crowell (who appears only as a visitor for his cousin’s death), and Sam Craig.

Director Matt Bloch maintains a languid pace that doesn’t feel weighted down and keeps the audience from becoming complacent by blatantly ignoring the parameters of the proscenium stage. Once we, the audience, become familiar with the characters and their rhythm, the pacing and flow seem quite natural – so natural that I couldn’t be sure if a few slight stumbles were first-night flubs or normal speech patterns. I also thought I detected some New England accents, but I didn’t see any credit for a dialect coach, so maybe I was just lulled by the atmosphere.

This production – my introductory production – of OUR TOWN is like theatrical baklava: rich and multi-layered, sweet with seductive savory bits mixed in, resulting in a satisfying treat. Two more performances remain as of this writing.

OUR TOWN

by Thornton Wilder

Cast

Craig Keeton as the Stage Manager
Axle Burtness as George Gibbs
Dean Knight as Simon Stimson
Louise Keeton as Emily Webb
Roger Reynolds as Mr. Webb on Nov 3
Frank Creasy as Mr. Webb on Nov 12 & 13
John Gordon as Dr. Gibbs
Barbara Keeton as Mrs. Webb
William Young as Wally Webb, Si Crowell & Sam Craig
Annie Zannetti as Mrs. Gibbs
Ziona Tucker as Rebecca Gibbs, Howie Newsome & Joe Stoddard

Creative Team

Directed by Matt Bloch
Music direction by Michelle Bayliss
Stage management by Kieran Rundle

FYI Notes

1.) Guests are required to present proof of vaccination at the door and remain masked unless consuming concessions. Children under the age of 12 may attend without proof of vaccination.
Guests may choose their own seats upon arrival and are encouraged to consider social distancing.

2.) There are no physical tickets or seating assignments. Ticket confirmation emails will be sent the day before the show you purchased tickets for. If you purchase tickets the day of the show, you will not receive a confirmation email from the Whistle Stop. Please bring a copy of your PayPal confirmation in its place.

Julinda D. Lewis is a dancer, teacher, and writer who was born in Brooklyn, NY and now lives in Eastern Henrico County.

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Photo Credits: Kieran Rundle