ART BRIDGMAN AND MYRNA PACKER
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The Bare-Bones Circus, Bridgman and Packer’s evening-length work presented at the Dance Center, lends itself nicely to the vaudeville notion. (But a short new piece for local performers that preceded it, The Crowd–the result of a two-week residency–felt tacked on, possibly in fulfillment of a grant requirement.) In their circus, Bridgman and Packer subtly play with fantasy and reality. They put on a show that’s somehow more charming and fascinating than real life. But like many old circus and vaudeville acts, the charm is paper-thin–the real drama lies below the surface. Certainly The Bare-Bones Circus has the spirit and style of a circus, with clowns and ringmasters, tightrope walkers and balancing acts. But it’s far more than that: the circus grows into a metaphor for the dancers’ ever-changing sexual relationship.
That notion is evident from the beginning. As old-fashioned circus music plays, a voice introduces the show in the traditional “Ladies and Gentlemen!” manner, and Bridgman and Packer roll energetically downstage, arms around each other like lovers. Each time one rolls on top, the name of a character in the circus is called out. “Rosa!” Packer is on top. “Bill!” Bridgman is on top. “Felicia!” Roll. “John!” Roll. The not-so-subtle idea is that this man and woman assume these characters at various points in their lovemaking. The voice continues. “The Ringmaster!” Packer on top. “The Clown!” Bridgman on top. These roles are then played out to varying degrees during the show.
The image of desire works on a number of levels. The circus is clearly a metaphor for Bridgman and Packer’s romance, but in certain scenes their romance becomes a metaphor for the performers’ relationship with the audience. Bridgman speaks directly with us several times. The first time, he sticks a clown nose on his face and quietly asks, “What do you want? Do you want me to be tough?” Then he breaks into a quick solo in which he isolates and rolls various parts of his body. “Do you want me to be . . . ?” He suggests another quality and breaks into another solo. The movements are different, but they’re imbued with the same nondescript energy, as if they were a blackboard and the audience could write any emotional quality they want on it. His questions seem honest and straightforward, as if he really wants an answer, but the audience–feeling somewhat surprised by his directness–doesn’t know whether to respond or not. When they don’t, he gets angry. Just as Packer gets angry in a later scene when Bridgman sits mute in response to her confession that she loves the way he touches her in rehearsal, and would he like to go away with her for a few days?
