eOh “Come Ye” into the tabernacle of “Grace.” Enter the divine with an agile spine, rotating pelvis, and open back. Breathe in the fullness of the Continent, Caribbean, and the Americas. Have “Mercy.” Asé! I was overjoyed and ready to partake of this fresh manna from the heavens served by this glorious company. As I walked into the Amaturo Theater at the Broward Center for the Performing Arts for the final show (Friday), I was stunned by the fact that there was no program or QR code to scan. And then dumbfounded by the ridiculously low attendance (I will address this separately). There were more empty chairs than bodies. In a state of confusion, I walked to my chair and tried to remain focused on the show.

The first piece “Come Ye” (2002) featured music by Nina Simone and Fela Anikulapo Kuti. The costumes were various denim designs. The work was presented in several sections with Brown’s signature phrase work illuminating Afro Cuban movement and various dances from the Continent. Shoulders were rolling, machetes were slicing, and hands and torsos were pounding. The second section offered a lovely contrast with an adagio. Dancers bourreéd across the floor while Nina Simone belted out “One More Sunday in Savannah.” The Third section was all about revolution; we saw the notable swagger and groove that has become synonymous with Brown’s aesthetic. A strong moment featured the full ensemble travelling around the stage showcasing signature movements in the repertoire. If “hit it and skin it” was a person, it was Baby Love, Ms. Joyce Edwards. Her presence is ethereal, captivating the audience with her command of the space. She is giving height, strength, power, grace, and femininity. The clarity in her movement brings life to Brown’s narrative. The men’s section in the Fela moment felt nostalgic taking me back to Baba Richard Gonzalez’s Afro Caribbean and Orisha Dance class at Djoniba Dance and Drum Center and Peridance Center in New York.

The second piece “Mercy” (2019) with music by Meshell Ndegeocello featured beautiful ensemble work. I was immediately drawn in by the white fabric dropped from the ceiling. This was contrasted with the blue backdrop and black costumes. The second woman who enters wears a black hat/crown like the Zulu inspired hat worn by Queen Romonda in Black Panther; this took me out. Demetrius Burns’s solo was pure fiyah! He embodies the seamless synthesis of African Diaspora movement journeying through space and time which is amplified by his costume, a chiffon balloon top and black flowing pants.

“Grace” (1994/2004), the third and final piece with a sound score by Duke Ellington, Roy Davis, Jr., and Fela Anikulapo Kuti was deep. Joyce Edwards solo begins the crossing with power, strength, grace, beauty, elegance, confidence. It’s the walk for me! In this work, some of the dancers were a little stiff in the hips, back, and torso, and the movement aesthetic, that groove/flow is not so obvious and pronounced. The energy level noticeably dropped. I questioned if they were feeding off our (the audiences) energy? The house was dead. From where I was sitting, heads were not bopping, backs were not contracting, and shoulders were static.
Michelle Murray and I did our call and chants to liven up the house. I did my Fela “Yea Yea” call and Michelle chimed in with her high pitched “Yaowww.” This seemed to work because some of the audience members verbalized their appreciation as well. This appeared to revitalize the company because the fiyah was stoked; this was demonstrated as they concluded the piece.

Brown’s aesthetic includes a softness that hits and funks within the steady pulse that grooves yet conjures up a fiyah that demands the body: head, neck, torso, shoulders, back, hips, and legs to respond. When it’s there, it is remarkable and when its off, it leaves the (informed) viewer somewhat disappointed. Some of the company members have not found this yet or it’s not consistent. This doesn’t negate the fact that they got it in. They are all fiercely strong, but the newness of the group is observable. I am certain they will find Brown’s poignant groove.
Evidence, a world renown dance company is always a soul fulfilling experience and something not to be missed. It was painfully embarrassing as a Florida dance artist to see what Broward Center for the Performing Arts offered their guests. I’ve seen local high school and dance studio performances with a better turn out. What happened Broward Center for the Performing Arts? Were the tickets just not purchased due to poor marketing and/or did the people who purchased the tickets all decide not to show up? What say you? There was “No evidence of Evidence…”  (Shanna Woods 2022) in terms of what the presenting agency demonstrated.  Let’s do better South Florida.

Images
Image 1: Come Ye
Photographer: Julieta Cervantes
 
Image 2: Mercy
Photographer: Ernesto Mancebo
 
Image 3: Grace
Photographer: Julietta Cervantes
 
Image 4: Michelle Grant-Murray and A’Keitha Carey
Photographer: A’Keitha Carey
 
Image 5: Empty Seats
Photographer: A’Keitha Carey
 
Image 6: A’Keitha Carey
Photographer: Michelle Grant-Murray
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

I attended the Saturday performance of Shamel Pitts’s Touch of RED (A Miami Light Project and Young Arts Collaboration) at Miami Theater Center in Miami Shores, FL. I was intrigued about the performance based on several narratives that I read by Pitts, particularly his discussion of the “Afrofuturistic performance art landscape,” “Male vulnerability,” “Aggression into softness,” and “Futuristic and Voyeuristic gladiator entertainment.” I thought about what that means philosophically and how that translates aesthetically and kinesthetically.

In my most recent writing “A Response: As We See It: Black Elders On Writing On Dance (Eva Yaa Asantewaa in Conversation with Brenda Dixon-Gottschild, and Charmain Warren)” in The Movement Performance Journal #56 (Summer 2022), I was intrigued by Dr. Warren’s discussion of her blog “What I Saw” which offered her the opportunity to “say something there before [she] had it in print at The Amsterdam News” (Warren 2022, 29). I thought that this approach was most fitting for this review.

The audience enters in groups. We are confronted with the challenge of navigating the tight dark space to get to our seats; this design element captures the vibe and authenticity of a boxing/wrestling match/arena. There is also excitement in seeing the beautiful red bold structure that contained the two male dancers Tushrik Fredericks (performer) & Shamel Pitts (concept direction and choreographer) who were already in motion when we arrived. They were contracting and bouncing in a very close and contained manner. As I sat in my seat, taking in the elements, I was reminded of Nora Chipaumire’s prolific piece Portrait of Myself As My Father which also features a boxing arena. I was curious to see and experience how Pitts would articulate his impressions and deconstruction of masculinity through this design and concept.

My focus shifted on the costumes designed by Dion Lee. Pitts wore red cut out leggings with a red mid-riff top with his arms exposed.  Fredericks wore a red bikertard with long sleeves. Both men wore black socks and black slip-on shoes/boots which balanced the bold frame of red (costume, marley/floor, lighting, frame of the arena). The original music score was created by Sivan Jacobovitz and Taylor Antisdel was the featured cinematographer. The sound score was a seemingly abstract melodious concoction that was reminiscent of a muffled house groove at certain points in the work. The cinematography and soundscape were engaged in a performative matrimony. Spatial patterns moved on the diagonal, sometimes clockwise and counterclockwise. The dancers maintained close contact most of the work and separated heading to their opposing corners to hydrate and recalibrate.
The movement vocabulary features a multitude of forms and aesthetics. I saw: Gaga Movement; Lindy Hop; House/African/Afro Beat(ish); Child’s play; Pedestrian, Animals Playing and Copulating, Irish Clogging, Yoga, Pas de deux: Tango/ Paso Doble (sans the passion, intensity, and eye contact). There is quite a lot happening in the work. I also saw some elements of Lil Buck’s alluring aesthetic. The duo’s strongest moments were when they were actually touching, feeling, and allowing themselves to become enthralled with each other through touch, play, sensuality, sexuality, challenge, and trust.  

There are some strong elements and others that are not so clear and don’t connect to the narrative and the cinematography, and at times overshadowed the dancers’ performance. Pitts’s discussion of male vulnerability was not as prevalent aesthetically. This concept, juxtaposed with the boxing ring, which is the epitome of male power, strength, and at times vulnerability (when they are holding on to each other, embracing each other out of necessity and desperation) was lost at times. I looked for moments when Pitts was going to queer heterosexuality “and “relationships [within] normative social and political structures” (Ellis 2020, 208). I did not see this but that’s OK. At the end of the performance, the dancers went to each quadrant and shared a story with the audience. I appreciated this moment offered by the performers. I did see elements of these reflections demonstrated in the work. Pitts’s reflection was evidenced in the duet that featured the “strongest moment” in the work. Fredricks reflection was evident at various times throughout the piece where it appeared that they were both in a club together unaware of anyone else’s existence. This is WHAT I SAW.

Image 1 (photo credit): Young Arts
Image 2 (photo credit): Miami New Times

References:
Ellis, Nadia. 2022. “Out and Bad: Toward a Queer Performance Hermeneutic in Jamaican Dancehall.” In Dancehall: A Reader on Jamaican Music and Culture, ed. Sonjah Stanley Niaah, 205-222. The University of the West Indies Press: Jamaica.
Yaa Asantewaa, Eva. 2022. “As We See It: Black Elders On Writing On Dance (Eva Yaa Asantewaa in Conversation with Brenda Dixon-Gottschild, and Charmain Warren)” in Movement Performance Journal (56):27-35.