Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Related Stories ...

Most Popular

National Features >

  • City Pages

    Michele Bachmann, Unmuzzled

    You don't need to read Sarah Palin's book to hear the ravings of a mad woman.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Miami New Times

    Pimp Daddy

    The rise and fall of a chubby sex-cult leader.

    By Natalie O'Neill

  • Riverfront Times

    Babe 'n' Arms

    Tom was a hot-tempered cross-dresser with a garage full of guns--and then he became Rachel.

    By Nicholas Phillips

  • Dallas Observer

    The Fight for Texas

    Rick Perry and Kay Bailey Hutchison are locked in a battle over the soul of the GOP. They're also running for governor.

    By Sam Merten

Dance Theater Jail piece '51802' Makes Audience Its Bitch

Share

  • rss

By Chloe Veltman

Published on September 25, 2007 at 12:58pm

In her 2005 dance theater piece, One Window, creator/choreographer Erika Chong Shuch explored the positive side of confinement — how limitations can often be empowering, freeing even. Her latest, equally charismatic production takes the opposing view of incarceration in examining the ways that being locked up constricts the person behind bars and also effectively imprisons loved ones on the outside. Shuch, who not only creates and directs the multidimensional work but also performs the central role and designs the costumes, tells a story that is as intensely personal as it is universal. This is quite an achievement when you consider the strange and seemingly intractable mix of ideas that make up the show, from sweetly sung old blues and soul songs and shaggy, loose-shouldered dance steps to the avalanche of identical white rag dolls and the metaphor of being stuck at the bottom of a well. Shuch's angst-ridden, autobiographical narrative about her complex and emotionally harrowing relationship with a prison inmate becomes overbearing at times. But the production's quirky-dynamic approach to movement, visual imagery, light, and sound combined with fluid performances from Shuch's four collaborators (Dwayne Calizo, Jennifer Chien, Tommy Shepherd, and Danny Wolohan) keep the work from falling into an abyss of self-loathing.