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Danspace Project at Saint Mark’s Church
March 26 through 28
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And the quartet also changes when seen in relationship to the previous two pieces. In an interview with Gia Kourlas that appeared in Time Out/New York, Garfield spoke of Limerence as a quest for union that runs through her personal and artistic life, and you can see that in a number of offbeat ways. Belcher isn’t just the designer; he’s present as a performer—adjusting the lamps and the music selections. Garfield attempts to bond with the powerful, beautiful Omagbemi (now clad in a glittering bodysuit); the latter, subject to bouts of coughing, rejects all assistance. Yet the most powerful passage of dancing all evening is the two women’s velvety, rhythmic crawl across the floor side-by-side, like two companionable lionesses out hunting. Steffensen enters as a would-be strongman, pedaling an exercise bike at demonic speed and donning small boxing gloves to counter Garfield’s futile little slaps; she crouches down and peers at him through a bike wheel when he shows off with a handstand.
With all that’s going on, and all the enigmas that swim in, around, and beneath the activities, the costumes changes, and the dramatic stances, I forget to notice the intermittent skilled and expressive dancing that reminds us of its importance in Garfield’s creative life. This woman’s performing persona could break your heart. Waifish but also tough, confronting events with puzzled or wondering eyes and half-open mouth, she soldiers on bravely. In the final moments of Limerence, she’s standing behind Steffensen on the bike, looking like a victory statue, while he pedals away. Facing the future while actually going nowhere. The entire evening is so entertainingly, alarmingly, poetically, beguilingly personal that I want to yell, “Good luck, Keely! And keep an eye out for traffic jams!”
