Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Limit (ed/less)

I made my way to an industrial complex in Pinecastle where Limit (ed/less), Directed by McClaine Timmerman, was holding a rehearsal. This show will include modern dance, multi media, and spoken word exploring the limitations and limitless realities of our daily lives. What a perfect way to bring in the new year brushing away past regrets and striving towards a limitless future.

It was after dark when I arrived, and the building looked ominous and deserted. I searched for the "A" unit where the rehearsal was to take place. A black truck was running, parked in front of the entrance. As I walked around it, the brake lights went on and I was afraid it might back up into me. As I walked past the passenger door, I heard someone say my name. Brittany Wine was in the drivers seat. She let me know that McClaine hadn't arrived yet. I sat in my artists seat, leaned against the building and took a phone call. McClaine and all the dancers seemed to arrive all at once. Inside was a typical office building. Rehearsal was held in a large empty conference room.

The show has a cast of eight with Jimmy being the only guy. The women dancers warmed up and stretched behind four movable panels of bars. What followed was a quick walk through of the show. Scenes weren't acted out, they all were just piecing the show together paying attention to the overall flow. Then dancers changed and they began a full run of the show. This was the first time all the dancers were together. At first everyone walked on stage, questioning to themselves their lot in life. They froze in shapes of thoughtful contemplation, searching for memories. As each dancer in turn stood center stage and spoke of hope or questioned courage. Dale moved swiftly, a space eater. Two dancers performed a pained piece where they mused that perhaps, "It didn't happen." They didn't ask for it to happen. The dance expressed deep regret and pain. I welled up, my mind shifting to a horrible incident that I had heard about.

I was thankful when humor flooded the next scene. The four panels enclosed the cast in a tight elevator and each persons inner dialogue played on a sound track as you could read their subtle expressions. They were uncomfortably close. Kim grimaced when Jimmy brushed her hand. Had someone not bathed? Who farted? A romantic solo dance in a blue dress with tons of tool was charming. The dancer just wanted to be wanted. There was humor in the way she expressed that she would be missed. Would she be remembered?

McClaine and Jimmy Moore sat center stage as an established couple. Tall white letters spelled "LOVE" on her black T-shirt. She wanted him to express his inner feelings to her and quite simply he didn't get it. She felt like she was having a conversation alone. How often have I been there. They both read. She asked him to massage her knee. As he did, a tall leggy dancer in a form fitting black dress asked him for a light. She flirted and his head turned to watch her walk away. Again and again, beautiful dancers in leopard print got his attention. Looking up from her magazine McClaine asked, "Why are you sweating?"

McClaine Timmerman is a master at being able to express a universal inner yearning using modern dance and spoken word. A solo dance she performed in which she struggled against the constraints of a corset seemed to me to be the signature dance of the show. In a struggle, laces were loosened and in spoken word she mused about freedom to change and yet wanting to keep the unfailing consistency of her identity. In dance, she reached out in supplication. She threw off her period high heals but in the end, sitting like a rag doll, she reached behind her and tightened the corset back up. This is a raw honest show that pushes the limits of what can be expressed through dance.

Performance Dates:
January 13th 8pm
January 14th 8pm
January 15th 2pm

Location:
Orlando Rep Theater (The Black Box)
1001 East Princeton St
Orlando Fl 32803

Tickets:
$15 cash or check only
call or email McClaine for reservations (not required)
407-721-3617 mrougemac@me.com

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