Sunday, February 03, 2013

Still standing ... you

Still standing you. [or] Still supporting you. [or] Still bearing you. [or] Still standing for you. [or] Still standing with you. [or] Still standing. [or] Just still. (PuSh 2013)

Ah yes, that time has come - it was my last PuSh show last night, the remarkable Still Standing You - a contemporary dance piece quite unlike anything I've seen before.  I went with my discerning partner in dance viewing, A. ("hey, do you want to go see a dance piece with two naked guys throwing each other around?" "Sure!") - ok, our decision making isn't always the most refined process, but we both love being challenged, and PuSh programming is almost always a safe bet.

I looked for clips of the work online - this one isn't great, but it is the one that best gives the arc of the performance. It starts with one man balanced on the other's feet, talking to the audience very casually about his experience in the city they are performing in, which sets up a particular relationship with the audience.  It takes away any preciousness or pretension from the work, cues you in to the fact that it is OK to laugh, and begins the process of setting up the dynamic between the two men, which is maybe best outlined by the quote at the top of the post.  The piece moves from the two growling and taunting and jockeying for position through to moments of remarkable tenderness and support.  It's every relationship.  With the caveat that most relationships don't involve one partner attempting to consume the other's Superman underwear.  And most dance pieces don't include remarkably intricate moves that result in mind bogglingly manipulated foreskins (yes, this is not a work that could be performed by the circumcised).  A remarkable, incredibly physical, funny, moving piece.  Gads, I love the arts.  


Other than that, I had a chance to catch up briefly with a dear pal from Toronto this week - someone I've known since 1988, and my first friend when I moved back east.  So good to see her, and so good to see the gods smiling on her life.  The gods have perhaps not been smiling on Maggie, who had to have her teeth cleaned and one extraction this week (I was arguing for a gold crown but no dice).  She is finally getting back to normal, despite having to suffer through having meds squirted down her throat twice a day.

And as for me?  Well, I am in a battle with my dissembling brain, an organ that likes to taunt me from time.  Hopefully the 20% of my brain that seems to realize what is fantasy and what is reality will win out.  Memory is truly a funny thing.  The saying "time heals all wounds" really means time will give your brain a chance to rewrite history, and blur the pokey edges.  That's not a bad thing, but you have to be on your toes enough to know what's going on.  I will put my pointe shoes on.

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