Destiny offers
message of hope
The history of humankind flashes before the eyes during IONA Contemporary Dance Company's dance/theater/circus extravaganza "Destiny." But what a difference a year has made in its reception.
IONA CONTEMPORARY DANCE THEATRE
IONA artistic director Cheryl Flaharty suggests it's time to get back to the garden.
|
|
Before our nation's battles with Afghanistan and Iraq, "Destiny" carried a well-received message of hope that mankind would recognize the folly of its warring, oppressive ways and embrace a more feminine energy in harmony with nature and fellow beings.
It was a message, by IONA artistic director Cheryl Flaharty, that last year drew standing ovations in the packed Hawaii Theatre. This time, the theater on Friday's opening night was half full, as if to prove Body Snatchers had indeed invaded and turned our vast population into hawks with no use for such a message and who have done a good job in shutting out voices of reason in a time of terror.
The curtain rises on a wondrous, inviting scene as a goddess played by Summer Partlon tends to creatures in a forest full of lush, shimmering trees. It's a place where the viewer wants to linger, but the forest is soon overrun by men in priestly garb and business suits who use "the word" or violence to contain feminine energy that is too mysterious and seductive.
The troupe's male dancers poke and prod at the women, grabbing them by the throat and hair, and slapping them down until they are submissive, neurotic, lost souls suddenly in need of man's strong, steady hand, or, make that a prophet or charlatan or two.
Dennis B. Miller has a star turn as a fast-talking Science God, while Maile Baran appears after intermission in a comic commercial for Nirvana, a 1-900-PSYCHIC promising love, bliss and the future of your dreams for a few bucks.
Scenes were enhanced by video by Mark Kadota and Sergio Goes.
The problem with violence becomes evident when the women -- dressed in vinyl gogo dresses and thigh-high boots -- take up arms and fight back in a scene all too scary as Partlon turns her rifle on the audience. She also takes on Sami L.A. Akuna III in combat over the weapon, ending with the refrain that "Violence is a descending spiral"; its ultimate weakness is that it begets hate, the thing it seeks to destroy.
Akuna later delivers a humorous monologue on the gender-bending New Age, and it isn't long before peace returns to the garden, with Lizbeth Grote as a tree sprouting anew.
The message is a simple one lost on dance and theater students sitting around me.
"I think she's (Flaharty) trying to say something but I don't know what it is," one said, and the others agreed that it was too "esoteric."
If anything, Flaharty and co-creator Victoria Kneubuhl spared few literary, religious or pop reference or symbol in getting their message across.
It's a sorry state of affairs when a youthful audience reared on "Dumb and Dumber" and "Jackass" films and reality TV lose their capacity to think beyond simple sound bites like: "Hasta la vista baby" or "You're either with us or you're with the terrorists."
A Matrix does exist, but sadly, few are willing to peer outside it. Our destiny is not set. Flaharty's work leaves us at a crossroad.
Click for online
calendars and events.