These guys were here a while back at the Kelly Strayhorn Theater’s Dance Alloy Studios, but I never forgot them. This seemingly nonsensical piece seems particularly necessary in today’s social and political climate. Yes, that’s actually liquid refreshment with which they imbibe. Enjoy this tasty tidbit, along with an accompanying description…
The British/Hungarian pair walked out from behind three giant white scrims onto a white floor, certainly one of the most impressive restylings of the main studio at Dance Alloy. They stood out, in a way, even though they just wore tee shirts, jeans and tennis shoes.
Their eyes roamed. Slyly? I thought I caught a flicker of a smile.
Igor (Urzelai)and Moreno (Solinas) started to sing, maybe in Hungarian (actually Sardinian/Basque), was pleasant enough, but unfortunately had no translation.
Gradually they started “feeling” it, this Idiot-Syncracy, tapping their feet, moving in response to the music. Bouncing!?! The music faded and that’s all we heard.
I think I had a flicker of a smile.
They unzipped their pants and took them off to reveal their underwear, daring us to react.
There was a leap and then shoes and socks came off. The bouncing became barefoot and quieter. We were left with one pile of clothes neatly folded and the other, well, sloppy. Which didn’t matter because the two piles soon disappeared behind a scrim.
So there the two men were, softly jumping, jumping, jumping, etc. And there they went, sometimes behind a scrim, always perfectly synchronized, gradually developing patterns, rarely taking a break.
One popped out waving a Terrible Towel…jumping.
Then they eventually brought out samples of Tennessee Whiskey for the audience to sample. Puzzled looks here.
A low bass ostinato emerge as we started to hear some heavy breathing. Complexity began to take over the seeming simplicity of the jumping vocabulary.
It became mesmerizing and never wavered. A brief thought — how do they do it? No matter — we all were smiling…