the studio & Do Jump theater part II

i began writing this entry last night in the sushi bar after the performance and, having not eaten all day, got really into the experience and less into being that guy with the laptop on his table. so i ate all this wonderful sushi and then came home, read for an hour on the sheep skin and fell fast asleep. after all the flooding and soggy gardening (i awoke several nights ago at about three and found that all my recently planted magnolia trees had tilted completely over in the storm, so i geared up and went out there and did about two hours of midnight gardening, which was really impressive: listening to the wind blister through the streets, through the sheets of rain pounding the living smell out of my plants, your plants, our plants…) today is clear blue and beautiful: the trees are stretching and aching a little from that heavy blanket of storms that has recently shrouded the northwest. ALL TO SAY: now is the best time to describe last night.

i attempted to go see the whitebird performance, but ended up meandering instead into the portland center stage where the “do jump” troupe is performing for the holiday season (which includes Chaunakah, remember). I was really tired after a day of fierce concentration and as soon as I walked into the theater and heard the music of their accompaniment, a band called klesmerocity (or something like that: i can’t find their information on any of do jump’s website: www.dojump.org), which is totally brilliant whimsical stuff that accompanies the dance throughout… awake! once again, expecting something small and homey feeling, i was trumped with exquisite, strong world class quality movement that holds fast to the fabric of dreams. the troupe is very acrobatic (they describe themselves as “extremely physical theater”) and the premise of each set is totally imaginative.

totally exhausted, i think all the receptors were just sort of raw and this event transfixed me as though i’d fallen asleep, yet still knew i was awake: like asleep upon the ethereal reality of this physical wonder. one of the most impressive sets was in a long piece that incorporated some of the dramatic characters of the previous dance into this new set where a large six foot wide piece of fabric stretched across the back of the stage, about 28 inches off the ground and behind which was a platform such that the audience could only see the torso and up of the performers… it was choreographed such that one dancer played the torso and another the corresponding legs. it was a lyrical play (some bits of swan lake transitioning to more modern dissolution and confusion) in which dancers lost track of their own legs and began dancing on others, going in and out of frantic urgency and grace. though choreographed perfectly together the disjointed limbs of each dancer lent an eerie otherworldly feeling to the play. i kept thinking of studio art: movement, set design, costumes, the building skills involved in creating this amazing totally hand designed and built classic. i realized that it’s a decision about life: whether or not to make one’s life art. the main theme that permeated this spectacle of do jump is inquisitive, raw creativity–conjoined with the skill set to support it. that’s basically the same premise of any good studio… while that skill set varies. yet who doesn’t want these beautiful stuffed animals, the paintings adorning the set of this incredible acrobatic theater, the body of these dancers, and handmade beautiful clothes? the studio is the imagination; it is this life where we have ONE chance to make an impression on you, on ourselves. let’s gird our loins and go for it!