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Sugarcane stories

Marc Bamuthi Joseph
Dance Place
Washington, DC
April 22-23, 2006


by Kate Mattingly

copyright ©2006, Kate Mattingly


About halfway through Marc Bamuthi Joseph’s evening-length “Scourge,” it became clear that the spindly objects hanging over the stage could be sugarcane or thin trees. Their unusual positioning, attached to the ceiling, made their roots eye-level, and their power as symbols was effective: as people, we all have roots, even though they can trigger different reactions, from pride to anger to shame.

Joseph is a formidably talented artist — playwright, director, dancer, choreographer, and spoken word artist — and “Scourge” is a multi-faceted project, co-presented and co-commissioned by National Performance Network, Dance Place, and George Mason University Center for the Arts. It was also co-commissioned by Bates Dance Festival.

Although the project received its premiere last May at the Bay Area Hip Hop Festival, it is still a work in process. At Dance Place on Saturday night kinks in the sound system and performers’ mikes still needed to be worked out. But in spite of the glitches, excellent ideas shine through. “Scourge” will be presented at George Mason this Wednesday and plans are in the works for the piece to tour this year and next.

Haiti is a conflicted country. Placing it at the center of a dance theater performance sheds light on its political history as well as the idea of ancestry. Joseph situates the story of “Scourge” in Brooklyn where a Haitian woman has overdosed on prescription pills, leaving her father and twin son and daughter bereft. Joseph plays the role of the woman’s father, Grand Pere, while Dahlak Brathwaite plays the son, Ti Frere, and Delina Patrice Brooks plays the daughter Ti Soeur. These performers are joined by two female dancers and three musicians: Tommy Shepherd, Ajayi Jackson and Sekou Gibson.

Dancing, dialogue and projected images tell their journey from Brooklyn to Haiti, where the grandfather disperses his daughter’s ashes, and introduces his grandchildren to their Haitian roots. His commitment to Haiti contrasts with the children’s reluctance and discomfort in the third world country. A compelling scene depicts the three of them slowly progressing through customs, fending off inquisitive onlookers, and then facing Haitians their age carrying guns.

What the children have heard of Haiti and how they experience the country first-hand are two very different realties. Joseph brilliantly weaves recent events into the story, exposing the attention that has been paid to riots in other parts of the world while Haiti’s chaos has been ignored or exacerbated by US involvement. In one scene he refers to two “brown boys,” perhaps making a comparison between Elian, the boy from Cuba who tried to defect here, and the many young, unrecorded people that try to escape Haiti each year. During this monologue about refugees, a film of an overcrowded sailboat is projected on the wall of Dance Place — its huge size and grittiness producing a stunning image.

Joseph is an electrifying performer, at times overwhelming the rest of the cast. The confidence with which he speaks and the weightlessness of his dancing are both fantastic. When he delivers a monologue about sugarcane, then breaks into a sweeping, flying and rolling movement solo, the impact is gorgeous.

Other moments are less clear, such as a story about “Opposite Day” at Ti Frere’s school in which he decides to dress as an old, white woman, instead of a young, black man. The grandfather asks how races can have opposites — “What’s the opposite of an Eskimo?” Although interesting to think about, the connection of this scene to the piece as a whole is confusing.

More successful is the way Joseph “illustrates” Haiti towards the end of the piece when, as photos of Haitian people and places are projected, one of the musicians provides a beat-box score. It’s fascinating to see how the actual colors and textures of the country differ from those imagined during the performance, and the vibrancy of the slides and power of the beats give a sense of life and hope.

“Scourge” does more than reflect historical events and their impact, it’s a piece that awakens political consciousness and inspires deeper investigation of world events. I returned home after the show and started to read about Haiti, the poorest country in the Western hemisphere. It’s not often that dance-theater motivates such a history lesson, and I'm already looking forward to seeing the piece again once it has gelled with time.

Volume 4, No. 16
April 24, 2006

copyright ©2006 Kate Mattingly
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©2006 DanceView