Travesia Danzahoy at the Merle Reskin Theatre, March 21-23
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Danzahoy’s evening-length Travesia uses a fine old metaphor for spiritual transformation: the sea journey. Its beginning is promising: a sea captain wearing a doublet, tights, and a tall plumed hat climbs onto his ship. The passengers soon arrive. Two are contrasting stereotypes: a sultry black woman and a prim white woman in a long dress. They’re accompanied by a slender, unaffected woman; two swarthy sailors; and a wild-haired woman dragging a chest. I warm to the characters immediately, picturing a Heart of Darkness set in Danzahoy’s native Venezuela.
The ship (a cunning prop: mast, railings, and paddlewheel built on a cart) sets sail in a dry-ice fog. When it lands the captain has a lovely solo in which he keeps reaching up to grab something. Is it a bird? An insight? A vision? It doesn’t really matter, for the mechanics of the metaphor require only that the leader of the expedition be aware of some new discovery.
But the dance continues. After a joyous dance amid fallen flower petals comes an inexplicable storm followed by a rainbow. Danzahoy sure knows how to work symbols of transformation into their act, but they don’t seem to have a clue what to do with them besides wearing them like costume jewelry.
