0 RF ag - year Oct. 20-Nov. 1/98 @ the Ford Centre for the Performing Arts 777 Homer JONES mpressive. Visually quite Jom in parts. I caught myself saying “Oooh, pretty...” more than once (luckily the people around me were remarkably tolerant). Periodically frustrating. Almost jarringly uneven sometimes. I studied the ceiling fixtures here and there. Historically rich and far more interesting than not, this was a memorable show. Spanning several generations, the story of African- American history is expressed through song, spoken word, pro- jected imagery and, most impor- tantly, dance. Tap as a dance form, and tap as a powerful method of expression, is at the heart of this production. Director/creator George C. Wolfe was inspired by the lineage of tap knowledge as embodied by dancer/ choreographer Savion Glover. Taking this as a rhythmic starting point, the show fans out to encompass massive events from the not so distant past while still retaining the intimacy of individ- ual experiences. Wolfe has accom- plished his goal of rendering his- I Wanna Tell Ya Dad that I have opened the freezer door and seen the frozen chicken pies that you bought from the Real Canadian Superstore. I know that they were to be my lunch for school today but I ate one anyway. Forgive me it was so delicious so tasty; the crust tender and flaky. The chicken, soft and moist; the cream filling was taste bud titillating. The carrots, peas, and green beans were scrumptious as could be. Never have I tasted chicken pie so delicious from the microwave oven. In the wee hours of the morning, I, Cristina Mae N. Gecolea, should've been asleep. Instead I was reading my poetry homework. After reading Dr. William Carlos Williams’ ‘This Is Just To Say; I was inspired to write a similar poem. Bring In ‘Da-Noi tory personal. Certain scenes grabbed my eye- balls and gave ‘em a big wet smooch. The best smacker was laid on by the gorgeous lighting, sharp composition, striking entrance, and strong contrasts in the alternately spacious and claus- trophobic ‘Slave Ships. I’m not - going to say any more about this one, except that it’s stuck some- where in my rumpled retinas, and I kinda like it there. ‘Industrialization, while remi- niscent of the nightmarish factory scene in the classic flick Metropolis, strengthened the percussive dance element to give this take on the cogs-in-the-machine theme some butt-shaking vibrancy. Bitterly hilarious, “The Uncle Huck-A- Buck Song’ was a fine fat poke at cinematic stereotyping, and the dancing moppet was cute 'n’ creepy. One of the best moments of tension was strung out pounding- ly in ‘1977-Blackout, while never quite unleashing the anticipat- ed/ dreaded climax. I found the pure tap of ‘Green, Chaney, Buster, Slyde’ to be the most fas- cinating piece of the evening, and the tri-panelled mirror worked beautifully as both a physical emphasizer and a possible psycho- logical question raiser. If you ever get the chance to see Jimmy Tate dance, and this is B ing In Da F unk a prime show for it, then don't be dawdling—get your heiney in there. ‘The Panhandlers, and ‘Drummin, performed by improv- isational drummers Dennis J. Dove and Martin Luther King, were both playful, fun, funky, and just plain good to hear. Made me want to jump around and grin. The reality of continued inequality may have been dis- played through the not-so- metaphorical use of cab hailing by Lenny Kravitz a while back, but this telling of a crazy annoy- ing event in the number “Taxi” is a good deal livelier, and slides the historical basis of Bring In ‘Da Noise, Bring In ‘Da Funk right smack into the present. My only problems with this show were a) I couldn't catch enough of the spoken words, and b) some of the slower periods seemed too slow. Thomas Silcott as ‘da Voice for this production has a lovely voice, but his delivery is much too speedy. Not enough variation in tones and pauses made it bloody hard to compre- hend his narration, leaving me cranky without a Q-tip, and wish- ing for a written copy of the text. Because what I could catch of the words was enough to make me chew my program in frustration. Writer Reg. E. Gaines is provoca- tive, witty, eloquent, and definite- ly worthy of a good listen. The (continued from coverl slow thing may be a matter of personal taste, but I disagree with the length of some of Wolfe's deliberate pauses in the pacing of Bring In Da Noise.... I felt too abruptly halted in the transition from ‘Industrialization’ to the tedious ‘Quittin’ Time, and the up & down energy of ‘Kid Go!’ seemed too jittery. ‘The Lost Beat Swing’ looked fabulous, but the dancing wasnt as smooth as in other numbers, and again the energy levels weren't quite there. The up side to ‘...Lost Beat.. 2 —and to every moment of stage time she had—was ‘da Singer, Vickilyn Thomas. Trained as a gospel singer from the age of four, Thomas’ vocals were on a par with Tate’s tapping, so that between these two exceptional performers any weaknesses else- Pet Cemetenes VEEP T) Weta Ron Oy where were less noticeable. As a company, the strength of the bond between the members came through clearly, yet the indi- viduality of each artist was also emphasized. Most numbers fea- tured different “leads,” and each time period showcased different styles of movement and music. The projections above the dancers brought home the political aspects of each piece with a com- bination of text and photo-col- lage imagery, and what I could hear of the narration furthered the depth of content. Even with my bouts of idle neck-craning, I'd recommend this as a darn good thinker of a show. It may sound a little off, but it’s smart, and it looks good too. a Nevada trailer and his body was steeds of famous generals, equine there because you could be stepping only discovered after the trailer was torn down. Reckless Herman had heads are frequently hung, in glass over the neglected grave of a loyal cases Or on museum and army regi- animal—one that’s out for revenge. enthusiastically gnawed on an exten- _ ment walls. sion cord and electrocuted But the horse who helped himself. General Meade defeat But did the no- Robert E Lee at luck animal receive Gettysburg, has had his any sympathy—or revenge several times at least a semi-rev- by pulling down the erent toss onto walls on which he the town dump? was placed. “Old No, Herman Baldy is too damned became the mascot of the town’s bar nose-heavy,” notes the curator of the Civil War where he is on display, Library Museum in wires still clutched in his little Philadelphia. which now houses mouth. the horse’s head in a special steel- Is there any greater indignity than to be confronted by life’s most fool- ish moment—even after death? reinforced display case. Well here’s a thought: If the head hadn't been severed from the body in the first place, perhaps it wouldn't be nose-heavy! The final abuse Of all the hard-working animals who dedicate their lives to the needs of humans, it is the noble horse that suffers the most after-death And now...? Sooner or later, humans are going to regret exploiting their animals, and indignities. The most frequent horse _not respecting their remains. And memorial, it seems, is the display of the dead animal’s head. From humble fire horses to the Halloween is the perfect time to remember how loyal our animal friends are. So tread carefully out Page 10 October 28 1998 The Other Press