Sunday, July 06, 2008
Dancing to the Ends of the Imagination
[Compagnie Montalvo-Hervieu: La Bossa Fataka de Rameau]

For some reason, my friend and fellow writer Walter thought it would be amusing to send out a clueless teenager to watch a French dance troupe at the CCP. I agreed to it, even volunteering to research on dance show reviews so that I could know the terminology and form a better article.

"Don't read dance reviews," he insisted. "That's going to be the point of the article. It's by a person who has no idea about dance whatsoever."

...Okay then.

It could've gone two ways: I'd not understand a thing and hate it as a result, or I could be easily mesmerized by everything I see. I'm happy to report that it was the latter.

My aunt, cousin and I braved the atrocious weather and about ten wrong turns before arriving at the CCP Main Theater 20 minutes late. The bitchy usherette, Abie (she angered me enough that I stole a glance at her nametag before leaving), certainly didn't make things any easier for us. She wasted a lot of our time just standing around and making sour faces before actually helping us get our tickets. I know, shame on us for being late to the show, but still: we're three more asses in those damn seats, Abie. Act accordingly.

Despite that, my ire subsided once we crossed the threshold into the theater, our senses immediately assaulted by a blast of color, motion and music.

In La Bossa Fataka de Rameau, an 8-man dance troupe including a breakdancer, ballerina and an Afro-Carribean dancer, utilized fancy footwork to blur the line between reality and fantasy, aided by a large white screen onto which a video of psychedelic imagery was projected. The visuals included a swimming tiger, humans morphing into animals, and an elephant walking a tightrope. Leading the adventure was a charmingly dopey, elfin boy-girl narrator, who not only mirrored but amplified the audience's marvel and fascination at these dancers. One memorable instance was when she recited spoken-word poetry about dance through her endearing, thick French accent while a ballerina fluttered across the stage.

At only one hour long, the show was over before I even knew it, but it ended to thunderous applause and a standing ovation from a very enthusiastic crowd.

The beauty of a Compagnie Montalvo-Hervieu show is beyond comprehension, and I'm happy to love it without being able to analyze it completely. I regret that they had only one show here in the Philippines, but in a way, I'm glad, too. This show is like the mysterious, beautifully quirky girl with blue tights and a flower in her hair that you see in the crowded NYC subway. You've only seen her for a few minutes and yet you're still convinced she's the girl of your dreams. You're dying to see her again by some stroke of luck, but even if you know you won't, at least you have the ten-minute subway ride to remember her by.

La Bossa Fataka de Rameau was more than a dance show. It was a crazy visual headtrip, and a very pretty one at that.

JC got bored @ 9:55 AM

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