Interludes

VIEWPOINTS – The Public’s UNDER THE RADAR Festival continues to push the boundaries of storytelling

• By drediman
• January 16, 2016
• No Comments

It’s that time of year again. January in New York means an almost overwhelming plethora of experimental theater via a number of adventurous theater festivals. Under the Radar, the Public Theater’s spectacularly curated festival for international experimental theater, is the grand dame of the bunch. In past seasons, Under the Radar has produced some of the most striking stage pictures and intellectual revelations I’ve come across. And unlike most of the other theater festivals that are increasingly making their presence felt (Coil, American Realness, Prototype – to name a few), there’s a level of quality control that goes on behind the scenes at Under the Radar that ensures that audiences are almost always exposed to thoughtfully considered, polished productions. This twelfth edition finds Under the Radar continuing to push the boundaries of storytelling into some really exciting territory. Unlike, say Coil, which has no problem dealing in abstract shapes and shades – often to thrilling effect – creating concrete theatrical narratives is paramount at Under the Radar, especially in this year’s iteration. So far, I’ve had the privilege of immersing myself in the following stories.

600 Highwaymen’s Employee of the Year (USA) recounts the oddly compelling life of a woman named J. as she marches from pre-adolescence to old age. As written and directed by Abigail Browde and Michael Silverstone, however, J.’s story is unconventionally presented by five prepubescent actresses (those of you who saw Gob Squad’s Before Your Very Eyes a few months ago, also at the Public, will be familiar with this device), each of whom take turns in the “first person” driver’s seat.  These talented young women are remarkable storytelling conduits, speaking and singing (the songs are by David Cale) the story with affectless precision and maturity that belie their youthful ages. The result is an intriguingly choreographed experience that’s both beguiling and alienating. This arms-length approach invites us to unsentimentally contemplate the notions of age and the present moment within the larger context of a life in its entirety.

Germinal (Belgium & France), which is conceived and directed by Halory Goerger and Antoine Defoort, tells a more cosmic tale. That is, the story of human civilization itself – from beginning to end – as enacted by four very appealing actors (Arnaud Boulogne, Ondine Cloez, Antoine Defoort, Sébastien Vial, and the voice of Mathilde Maillard – all superb). The often hilarious production uses the parameters of the Newman stage to set the physical boundaries of this alternative microcosmic universe and cleverly deploys rudimentary stage tools (lights, amplification, projections, etc.) to tell humanity’s story. What’s so amusingly and ingeniously conveyed by all of this is how utterly clumsily we fumble along as a race. As chronicled by Germinal, cultural and and societal evolution (if we can call it that) only occur accidentally and are in fact beside the point. What makes it all worthwhile is the ride itself, pratfalls and all.

Lars Jan’s The Institute of Memory (TIMe) (USA) is a memory play of sorts. Created by Early Morning Opera lab, Mr. Jan’s fragmented play depicts his quest to make sense of his father’s life. The show is meticulously performed by the dynamic duo of Andrew Schneider and Sonny Valicenti (each in a number of roles), who tirelessly chase the elusive shadow of Mr. Jan’s father through the course of the play. Despite some inventive touches in the text, the play ultimately doesn’t say anything you haven’t heard before. However, the production will show you things you’ve never seen before. You see, technically, Mr. Jan’s production is superb (Mr. Jan, who is responsible for the concept behind the stage design, is aided beautifully by a crack design team). The centerpiece of the production is a huge light sculpture that impressively morphs during the course of the show, often framing the play and performers in really striking ways.

Compagnie Kadidi’s Samedi détente (Rwanda & France), which is written, directed, and performed by Dorothée Munyaneza based on her own experiences, plunges us into the genocidal horrors of latter day Rwanda. However, unlike the recent crop of plays to tackle harrowing stories from the region (Lynn Nottage’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Ruined and Danai Gurira’s Broadway-bound Eclipsed quickly come to mind), which use graphic realism to generate theatrical impact, Samedi détente goes the other direction – to hard-hitting effect. Ms. Munyaneza uses abstract and experimental – albeit visceral – dance, text, and song to convey her bruised memories. The passionate Ms. Munyaneza is an astonishing, accomplished performer; to see her perform her own story is to experience beauty and horror at their most elemental. Throughout, she’s supported beautifully by Nadia Beugré, Alain Mahé, who play various characters on her journey.

On the surface, Now I’m Fine (USA), Ahamefule J. Oluo’s deeply moving musical memoir, seems to be the most conventional show of the bunch. It uses easily recognizable performance genres – big band, cabaret, stand-up comedy – to tell Mr. Oluo’s story (Mr. Oluo himself wrote, directed, and stars in the show). However, don’t let appearances fool you. The Seattle-based Mr. Oulo, who has an unassuming, even self-effacing, stage presence, has bite and stinging attitude just underneath the surface. His show, admittedly a jarring and somewhat uncomfortable combination of the aforementioned genres, is a severely personal experience, especially during the cathartic release afforded by the show’s impassioned big band musical interludes (the breathtaking vocals are courtesy of okanomodé soulchilde, whose costume changes are thrilling). The beauty of Mr. Oulo’s easygoing everyman persona is that he’s like a mirror. You see your own struggles and petty triumphs through the lens of his story.

The Royal Osiris Karaoke Ensemble’s The Art of Luv (Part I): Elliot (USA) attempts to articulate, in its own hilariously deadpan manner, the mysteries of romantic connection. Unlike most of Under the Radar’s offerings, this piece is as light as a feather – and I mean this as a compliment. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make some rather poignant points. What The Art of Luv slyly makes clear is the tragic delicacy of the human condition. Through a lighthearted combination of ritual and mixed media work, The Art of Luv shows us the absurdity of human interaction. Thanks to a trio of spot-on performances (Tei Blow, Sean McElroy, and Eben Hoffer), the piece comes off as natural and very funny as opposed to contrived and precious.

Under the Radar, which concludes in a few days, continues with Guillermo Calderón’s Escuela (Chile), Toshiki Okada’s God Bless Baseball (Japan), and Tanya Tagaq’s Nanook of the North (Canada). This doesn’t include the various presentations at Joe’s Pub, as well as the six offerings of the “Incoming” mini-festival featuring works in progress. I’m definitely looking to be a part of it all. If you at all care about the current state of the performing arts, so should you.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

UNDER THE RADAR
Off-Broadway, Festival
The Public Theater
Through January 17