Teen Age: Observed
Teen
Age
Proximity
Theatre
Proximity Theatre Website
Cast
your mind back, or cast your mind ahead to the age of the teen. Anticipation or memory are places of
imagination, but the space known as now, is outside anticipation and in advance
of memory. So rarely we feel the now, so strange it must be to feel awake in
the present. Not in anticipation and not drifting through your memories but
fully present. We experience the present so totally in our teen years that it
is arguably the most real we will ever feel.
This
thought of presentness is not trivial. It is dew which collects on the skin of
the teen, giving them a sheen of competence and future potential. We can not
help but look at the teenager in awe of what is about to happen to them, what
they will see, what we remember from our time as a teen. And yet they are
looking at right now, they are not anticipating being us, as we remember being
them, they are busy with now. They have their fears and trepidations, but there
will never be a time again when they are right in the middle of IT so
completely as they are today. Seven of these living present creatures performed
Teen Age the latest effort by Proximity Theatre, the Santa Barbara based
performance group.
The
space felt like being inside the lungs of a dancer. The room felt like a
visceral metaphor for the feeling in the chests of the performers. Pressure
heaving against us like the enveloping rush felt by the adrenaline pumping minds
of the young dancers. Seven
of them in total, supported by a creative team that allowed them to fully be
themselves in a present place. Anticipation left at the door, awareness of self
the only thing left. Director Kyra Lehman working with longtime collaborator
Jake Himovits tuned their performers to
such a perfect pitch that they just move, they appear unafraid of forgetting a
gesture or posture they move with the confidence of muscle memory. They are not
remembering their choreography they are feeling it, they are swinging through
space and time on prearranged lines and patterns that have no thought attached
to them at present, just doing, and being. This perfect presentness is not to
be confused with haphazard chaos, these performers are ritualistic in their
motions and distinct in their behavior. They are rhythm. All seven performers
seemed to move and dance with no anxiety, which would seem a drastic contrast
to the theme of the show.
Lehman builds out her performers voices and stories through collaborative writing and talking. Giving them the bravery to expose deep scary wondrous parts of their individual personalities. Always drifting between mentor and student herself Kyra learns from them and then builds the show to allow for them. To give them the platform on which to present themselves. Which is the greatest struggle for any of us, the ongoing question of how do I say what I know I need to say. For some this arrives through an instrument or a canvas. In the case of Teen Age it arrives through the act of performance.
The
shows performers are Shuba Brady, Eva Enriquez, Ruby Haber, Lily Linz ,
Stephanie McPhee, Sylar Rousseau, and Katya Tashma-Rapp. Each of them is
currently young, and brave and impressive, but they should not be
underestimated. The elaborate event they are able to perform in the show would
be difficult for adult professional performers. No excuses are needed in the
description of their show, it was brilliant and not because they are teenagers
but because they are great performers.
In
Teen Age, the performers give a bright clear insight into the cyclical
struggles of coming into adulthood and out of childhood. This time in all of
our lives is painful and fraught with internal turmoil and still one of the
best times of life. The performers execute several patterns and movements that
are unmistakable in their code. The grabbing at clothing and body, the struggle
to feel completely wrong in the skin they currently posses. Their movements
while synchronized still feel like their own, they are clearly working together
and for each other. Each movement in support of the person next to them. This
of course feels wonderful to watch, every dancer giving room and structure to
the other dancers. Often the seven break off into duets or solo motions, but
the group never fully excludes them. There is always the feeling during the
performance that no-one is out on their own, they are always with-in arms
reach. This is a feeling that could only be created by a cast and crew of
committed friends.
The
actual show existed in a small storefront converted for the purpose and held a
small audience. The performance took place on the floor in front of the
audience who quite literally had their backs pressed to the wall. This forced
intimacy was riveting, giving the audience the feeling of inclusion in the
piece. We were not neutral observers we were integral components pushing the
performers forward, and forward they did go.
The
lights snap on, shocking the audience with the awareness of the closeness of
the moving bodies. Slow at first then unbelievable quick. The athleticism of a
proximity show is always impressive, but this group was drawing on a
fearlessness not always seen, a feeling of invincibility. They rapid fired
through story telling with gesture and non-sequential thrusts which echo
perfectly the feeling of the young in their quest to find their own path while
not seeming to stand out too much. The solos and duets are heart breaking, the vulnerability
and bravery going hand in hand, or foot in hand at times. Every part of these
performers bodies are stretched and pulled.
At
moments they are drawn together in a pile, and it is overwhelming how the
knowledge of that safety is absent in most of the world. The youthfulness of
their stature playing as benefit here, their energy seems total and complete.
While the effort of their exertion is clear, they use their breathing as another dance gesture. Using the rhythm and pace, and volume of their breathing as an instrument. Several times during the show the audience is letting the performer breath for them as we sit holding our collective breath while at other times we the audience are willing the dancers to breath, willing them to stop the restrictive hold they have on themselves and just relax, but they do not. As in all of teen life we the old have a naive thought that we have all the answers when we clearly don’t. We should never look to the struggles of the teen and just try to relax them. They are tightly wound and that is their strength, they hold us accountable to our own ethics and morals. They challenge or grasp on authority just by being themselves, and they do it by being confusing and unreasonable, and we need them to keep it up.
While the effort of their exertion is clear, they use their breathing as another dance gesture. Using the rhythm and pace, and volume of their breathing as an instrument. Several times during the show the audience is letting the performer breath for them as we sit holding our collective breath while at other times we the audience are willing the dancers to breath, willing them to stop the restrictive hold they have on themselves and just relax, but they do not. As in all of teen life we the old have a naive thought that we have all the answers when we clearly don’t. We should never look to the struggles of the teen and just try to relax them. They are tightly wound and that is their strength, they hold us accountable to our own ethics and morals. They challenge or grasp on authority just by being themselves, and they do it by being confusing and unreasonable, and we need them to keep it up.
They
do not yield to the request to relax, they fight to the end, which is another
great metaphor for the teen age, fighting to the end of everything, unwilling
to yield even an inch to anything and especially not the bullshit of life which
so often crushes down on the optimism and hope present in the young. Every
moment of Teen Age holds you, from the stylish costumes, so appropriate for the
show to the size of the space, the literal proximity of the performer to
audience is unforgiving. And yet it is the greatest gift, nothing can be
missed, no inhalation, no quiver of muscle, we are with them the entire time,
and they are with us. This theatre company is capable of drawing out an
emotional response unlike most other activities in life. The endorphins
released while watching these performers break themselves open for their
director and subsequently for us the audience is awe inspiring, which is not a
big enough word. Watching this performance lets you live in that moment, the moment right after
you realize for the first time that, you like yourself, and that it is all going
to be all right. You are right there at that moment of awake and it is
marvelous.
Kyra
Lehman is very good at making a lot out of a little and it causes me more than a
little sadness to watch this creative power-plant operate without every tool
possible. However with that said, seeing a Proximity Theatre performance is a
lot like seeing your favorite band play the best set of their careers in your
favorite little bar. It feels gluttonous to enjoy being here now for them while
they are still confined in the tiny venue. I revel in the chance to see this
director have room to really work and I challenge anyone who cares about beauty
and culture to come forward and place the right tools in this talented
company’s capable hands.
Teen Age was directed by Kyra Lehman & Jake Himovitz, I can not credit them enough with making the wonderful real. As often is the case music was provided by the overtalented Ken Urbina. Chiara Perez del Campo provided the stage management, which is a form of permission for a performer to not worry about the how. Sophie Leddick designed the costumes, which freed the performers to be cloaked in a protective uniform.
Featured performers:
Shuba
Brady
Eva Enriquez
Ruby Haber
Lily Linz
Stephanie McPhee
Sylar Rousseau
Katya Tashma-Rapp
Eva Enriquez
Ruby Haber
Lily Linz
Stephanie McPhee
Sylar Rousseau
Katya Tashma-Rapp
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