Imagine a person is trapped inside a cloth sack and stretching the surface trying to get out from the inside. That's what the sculptures adorning the stage of
Oslund's newest work Childhood Star look like. The show was commissioned by local dance presenter
White Bird and premiered last night as part of Portland's
Fertile Ground festival (read
WW's big preview on the festival
here). In constantly transitioning patterns, Portland-based choreographer
Mary Oslund's dancers model what kind of chaos and bodily force might be trapped inside one of those sculptures.
Set designer
Christine Bourdette's pseudo-body forms are pushed and pulled across the stage, morphing at the will of the dancers' erratic movement.
Amid the amorphous set, dancers quiver, sway and fidget their way through Darrin Verhagen's quiet and dreamy soundscape. First four dancers attempt the same movements, then a fleet of dancers each move independently, and then separate groups follow disparate rhythms. But when the dancers continued to move after the music stopped–or completely changed formation in the middle of a song–the show lost some of its much needed structure.
With no discernible crescendo, Childhood Star casts a mood, rather than transports viewers. The mindless zone of visual pleasure it creates is almost as eerie as the show's sterile and uncanny sculptures. But on Thursday night the work's subtle, monotonous beauty was disrupted by a lack of synchronicity at times when unison was clearly the desired effect. Quiet and steady,
Childhood Star straddles the line between subtle and flat. The show isn't perfect, but it can definitely offer 40 minutes of tranquilizing enjoyment.
Childhood Star was
actually one of
two performances White Bird presented last night. The evening began with
Drift, a short piece choreographed and danced by
Keely McIntyre, who also appeared in
Childhood Star.
In the piece
Keely and
Noel Plemmons (POV Dance) first appear onstage stacked atop one another. Their synchronicity is interrupted when one dancer controls the other or when they both move freely across the stage. At the end they meld back in sync and return to their starting position–this time at opposite ends of the stage. Shorter and simpler than
Childhood Star, Drift conveys subtle beauty, which might have been what Oslund had in mind for her larger, more complex work.
GO: Oslund + Co/Dance's Childhood Star
at Lincoln Hall, Portland State University, 1620 SW Park Ave., 242-1419. 8 pm Friday-Saturday, Jan. 21-22. $18-$28.