Savion Glover's Bare Soundz at the Sydney Opera House

Instead of writing another foodie blog (though I do have at least one more in the works), I decided to pour myself a second cup of coffee this morning, and tackle a blogging challenge that scares me: writing about a dance show. I’ve already chickened out on this type of assignment once, after we went to see the Aboriginal company, Bangarra Dance Theatre, and I’ve been chastising myself for the missed opportunity. So, if you’ll forgive me for my lack of vocabulary for talking about the form, I’d like to share some of my impressions of our night at the Sydney Opera House seeing Savion Glover’s Bare Soundz.

(from www.sydneyoperahouse.com)

Savion Glover is an American tap-dancer who, depending on your background, you might recognize for various performances on Broadway since he was 12 years old (including the groundbreaking Bring in ‘da Noise Bring in ‘da Funk), his time as a cast member on Sesame Street, his “voice work” as the dancing feet of the penguin in Happy Feet, or maybe from his performance on Dancing With the Stars. His show is presented at the Opera House, as part of their Spring Dance festival.

Before the show began, Partner-in-Crime (who was bravely tagging along, and was quite unsure of what he’d signed up for) asked, “What type of music will Mr. Glover be dancing to?”

“Not sure,” I told him. “I’d assume something jazzy or hip-hoppishy. …?”

Actually, I did not have had to look further than my ticket stub for the answer: Bare Soundz. This show is all about the sound of tap dancing, with no musical accompaniment.

The stage is set simply, with three platforms with wooden covers and small mics, and a white cyc background to catch color changes in light. There is absolutely nothing fancy about the production values – no projections, no sound cues, no fancy costume changes, no fog machines … just Glover and two immensely talented young dancers, Marhall L. Davis and Maurice Chesnutt.

The piece is one act, covering several movements, each of which is marked by only a brief blackout. Most of the work was three-part harmony, but each dancer also had the chance to show his own aesthetic and dexterity in solo performances.

In the first and last pieces, Davis and Chesnutt kept a steady rhythm, while Glover exhibited the fancier footwork. It did not take long to begin to get drawn into the song the dancers created, in much the same way that one does during an orchestra concert. Attention shifts from the melody line, to the ornamentation, and then to the whole “song.” Eyes are trained on the feet, and occasionally to the bodies, and the blithe faces of the performers.

Aside from the opening and closing dances and the solos, there were also a couple of pieces in a call-and-response style. One dancer would complete a sequence, looking to the other to emulate. But rather than being a cutesy “anything you can do, I can do better” response; the second dancer took the line and made it his own, with personal flourishes. During these pieces, the third dancer kept steady rhythm.

It was a joy to watch Glover during these pieces and the young dancers’ solos, where he stood off to the side in the dark. His glowing face suggested that he may have been thinking, “I love what you are doing.” Sometimes he’d move his body or swing his arms in time, as if taken by the talent and skill of his protégés.

For me, the most thrilling part of the show was a long section where the dancers took turns completing eight-beat improv-ed solos. As one dancer finished, the next was right there, hopping onto the platform and picking up the beat, as the first dancer tapped off. It reminded me of a theatre improv game where the performers take turns entering and leaving the scene by tagging each other out, and picking up right where the last actor left off. There’s something thrilling about seeing a performer of any discipline bravely stepping into the spotlight – in fact, saying to his fellow performer, “it’s my turn now, and I will not take even a beat before I show you – the audience – something interesting and new, without abruptly jarring you from where we left off.” It's improv-ed, but impossible to execute seamlessly without a impressive foundation from which to launch.

This part of the show concluded with a very long solo by Glover, in which he showcased the depth of his incredible talents. At times, his feet moved so quickly that it was hard to believe a human has that ability. He’d slide his feet with ease, creating a sound like the woosh of a bobsled. Here, I marveled at the length and grace of his long body and arms, and wondered if he would have been an Olympic swimmer, had he not become a dancer. A broad smile never left his face, which had the simultaneous effect of making this feat look easy, and beaming forth a exuberant energy to the audience. It was at this point that P-i-C leaned over and whispered, “he’s a genius.” I wonder if I’ve ever hear P-i-C describe someone as a genius before – and we see a lot of performing art. I, however, could only nod in agreement because, at that same moment, I was overtaken enough that tears were rolling down my face.

The audience seemed to uniformly share the amazed sentiment, as the usually more reserved Aussies cheered as if they were at an ARF match. Shouts, bursts of applause, and the classically Australian “oi-oi!” were scattered generously throughout the evening. And, I’ve now witnessed my first Australian standing-ovation.

After the show, I thought a lot about that moment when I was so overtaken by emotion. Given my line of work, I tend to be a sucker for some type of story in my art, even in dance. Stories are easy to hold onto and make intellectual sense of, even when they are abstract. In this piece, however, there is absolutely no story. It is simply about the form, and being viscerally swept away by simple, rhythmic sound and the accomplishments of exceptional human bodies. The intellectual mind, with its constant piecing together of clues and crafting of logic and order, has little place here; but that’s not to say that anything about this work is simple. It’s a challenge too, at least for me, to be overtaken by the ethereal and surrender myself to sound and movement.

Here’s a little video preview of Bare Soundz, should you want to be swept away into the dance for a couple of minutes: