|Cast of "A Dance for Dark Horses" by Kim Lusk, at Velocity Dance Center March 9-11, 2018|
photo by Jazzy Photo
Thank you Kim Lusk!
I really needed your first full length work, “A Dance for Dark Horses,” part of Velocity Dance Center’s “Made in Seattle” program.
Let’s face it, the world around us has been particularly chaotic for the past year, and it’s all too easy to get mired in the venomous mudslinging that’s been sparked by the titular head of the free world. It’s enough to make my head explode. Lusk’s “Dark Horses” was a refreshing and witty breather, a chance to revel in art well made and well performed.
Lusk and her three main dancers—Alexander Pham, Shane Donohue and Erin McCarthy—took the floor one by one in silence, their eyes focused out toward the audience. Lusk appeared last, and took a place directly in front of McCarthy, who then skootched to the side so we could see her. This was the first signal that we were in for something figuratively and literally off kilter.
The dancers skittered across the floor on their toes to Ryan Hume’s club-inspired soundtrack, arms and shoulders pumping to the steady beat. Then, all at once, in unison, they seem to tip to the side, pushed by unseen hands which catapult them into another section of the dance.
Pham performs Gagnam-style arabesques and pirouettes, twirling an invisible lasso overhead in homage to Psy and his K-pop crew. Lusk strikes John Travolta’s Saturday Night Fever pose, arms outstretched, fingers pointed. Donohue’s duet with a battered tambourine is both poignant and hilarious. The tiny percussion instrument seems to have a life of its own; Donohue tries to end the duet but the tambourine keeps jingling until Donohue assaults it with his foot.
McCarthy whirls out a ferocious solo, then collapses to the floor, sweaty and panting. Lusk watches her, a big smile illuminating her face. McCarthy catches her eye and smiles back.
These dark horses---tall and short, thin and round, are always aware of one another and of us sitting in the audience. They revel in their movements, particularly Lusk, a compact Gumby of a dancer. As her arms swing back and forth to the music, she twirls her pelvis to a different rhythm, a counterpoint if you will, all the while watching us with a knowing look and a half smile. We rewarded her audacity with laughter, cheers and delighted applause.
“A Dance for Dark Horses” isn’t fluff; it’s technically ambitious and rich with popular culture allusions. All the dancers, including a Fantasia-esque gaggle of women in hot pink, delivered their parts with precision and full-fledged brio. Their enthusiasm was contagious. I found myself wanting to join in, although I’m certain I couldn’t keep up the nonstop pace.
Lusk’s work reminded me of the pleasures of moving to the beat, of the delight and camaraderie. And it reminded me that in a time when so many people are devoted to resistance and struggle, sometimes we need to take an hour to delight in the joy of being alive.