As I entered Palmer Theater Friday night for the David Dorfman Dance performance, I took my position as usher behind the audience and watched the dance company members hand out fence posts for people to write on. As a choreographer, David Dorfman dissolves the barrier between audience and performer, creating an experience rather than a spectacle. In his own words, he likes “to carry this notion of ‘the stage’ further and bring it into our lives, our everyday lives.” He wants us to relate to the dancers by joining them on a journey. He wants us to leave the theater with lingering thoughts that spark conversation. He wants to bring the sublime into everyday life. As the house lights went out and the stage lights revealed a pile of fence posts covered in writing at the front of the stage, a voice boomed through the theatre: “This is where the dance show is,” and “This is where we welcome you in,” inviting all of us to join the experience. This was not my first David Dorfman Dance performance and I was certain that, once again, I was about to embark on a new journey.
Friday night’s show consisted of two revisited pieces that Dorfman first choreographed about ten years ago called “Impending Joy” and “Lightbulb Theory,” both of which delve into the concept of memory and exaltation – the ending, beginning and celebration of life. The first piece, “Impending Joy,” explored the soldier’s experience when called to war and the second, “Lightbulb Theory,” grappled with the concept of losing someone you love while also celebrating new life and those who are still with you. Although Dorfman never toured these pieces, they lingered in the back of his mind. As Dorfman experienced personal growth in his life, he revisited the dances, making changes that reflected his own transformation. “Impending Joy,” originally a critique of the military, is now about respecting and honoring those who serve in the armed services. “Lightbulb Theory” was created after the death of Dorfman’s mother as a way to prepare for the death of his father, while also celebrating the presence of his wife, Lisa, and young son, Sam. On Friday evening, however, this piece also merged with changes in Dorfman’s own story. Just one week prior to the performance, Randy Martin, his close friend and mentor, passed away. As a result, Dorfman dedicated “Lightbulb Theory” to his friend and the piece transformed into an actual memorial for this dear friend and an exaltation of the full life he lived.
“Impending Joy” opened with dancer Christina Robson as the character Jane, a soldier who was constantly being coaxed by the other dancers to take their fence posts. As she took each one, the dancers read the words on each post including “Stay over there,” “You can do it,” and “We just want you to know how much we appreciate what you are doing.” Jane was hesitant and weak, and did not want to follow their commands or receive the posts. In synch with the electronic music, the movement was extremely precise and athletic. Their limbs appeared to serve as their own weapons, cutting the space around them. A group of audience members joined the dancers on stage, each grabbing a post, possibly with their own words on them, and created two parallel lines as they slowly walked to the center of the stage. With the posts pointing high above them, a tarp fell, slowly encompassing everyone on stage and casting a looming sense of loss over the rest of us. As “Impending Joy” came to a close, Robson limped down the aisle next to me with her hair matted and an armful of fence posts, her weak body barely holding them. As some of the posts fell from her arms and hit her feet, making her stumble for a moment, I wanted to run to her and hold her. I wanted to take the fence posts from her arms so that she could stay. Robson was, of course, just exiting the theater and to prepare for the next piece, but the image I had in my mind of a soldier being sent off to war was real and alive.
“Lightbulb Theory” opened with a solo performed by Dorfman. At the beginning of this section he peered into the audience and asked us a riddle, “Have you heard the one about the two different types of lightbulbs? The first flickers before it goes out. The second just goes out. Which do you think is better?” Although the question seemed light-hearted in the moment, it was quite profound. Is it better to let life go quickly or to hang on for as long as you can? How is it possible to cope with death while at the same time celebrating those who are still living? After David gave his riddle he began dancing into a frenzy, constantly reaching upward only to be thrown down again. He did this until he reached complete exhaustion. He crouched down and looked out into the audience as if amused by his own tired state, causing the audience to smile and laugh a little before becoming frantic again. When the rest of the dancers entered the stage, they joyously broke into a line dance, smiling and singing with one another. Once again, however, the tone became dark when a male dancer suddenly began to move slower and closed his eyes. The others woke him up as if to say, “You have to keep going.” This back and forth dialogue between the male dancer and the other performers went on and on, as if he they wanted him to have one more dance. Finally he was allowed to rest and the dancers left the stage in a joyous state, celebrating the peace he had found. I, too, found myself celebrating his peace.
After taking this 90-minute journey with the David Dorfman Company, I felt unsettled. I wanted to know why Robson chose to carry the fence posts and meet her destiny. Why didn’t she say, “No”? Could the male dancer have continued dancing? Was he just giving up or did he find peace? I did not understand how I had become so emotionally invested in what I experienced. Maybe it made me reflect on my own life and the future to come. It served as a reminder of the stark truth that everyone in my life will eventually be gone. It also made me take a moment to appreciate the relationships I have and the joy that they bring to my life. Once again, the David Dorfman Dance Company successfully took me on a journey where I was able to relate to the dancers and the stories they told in such a powerful way that I left the theatre with lingering thoughts that sparked conversations. I am thankful for this life-changing experience. •
