Malashock/ RAW5 a biography of motion

Image from Malashock/Raw
Image from Malashock/Raw5

By Janice Steinberg

Janice Steinberg
Janice Steinberg

SAN DIEGO–John Malashock makes intensely emotional dances, and his latest show, “Malashock/RAW5,” at the Lyceum Theatre last weekend, displayed a vibrant palette of feeling-tones. Opening with the menace of  “Departure of the Youngsters,” the mood shifted to the tense, visceral “Uneasy Surrender.” The final “Party of One” began wistfully, but toward the end, the fun was so giddy—and the music, Donna Summer’s “Hot Stuff,” so infectious—I wanted to jump from my seat and join the dancers onstage.

Previous editions of Malashock/RAW have featured work by Malashock and two other choreographers. This time around, we got an all-Malashock show with a big chronological range, from one of his earliest dances, “Departure of the Youngsters” (1989) to “Party of One,” which was a premiere. The 25-year span offered a chance to consider what has remained constant in Malashock’s work and what’s changed.

Two constants are a fascination with relationships and a love of narrative. The story in “Departure of the Youngsters” is obscure—like the murky lighting—but ominous, with suggestions of power struggles and an air of prickly combativeness. To a Mark Atteberry score created for this piece—a mysterious tapestry that includes Andean-sounding pipes, hurdy-gurdy, and relentless percussion—four dancers come nose-to-nose in tight faceoffs. Lara Segura seems a parent figure, trying to control Justin Viernes and Brittany Taylor. Two people block Caryn Glass (a guest artist I would love to see onstage more often) from moving forward.

There’s a furtive quality as dancers stay close to the ground, walking in low crouches or on their knees. (Malashock said in introductory remarks that the piece was an expression of his youthful angst; it’s also a testament to young knee joints.) Whatever’s going on here, the world onstage feels like an alley you don’t want to walk down at night.

“Uneasy Surrender,” which debuted in the 2012 edition of “Malashock/RAW,” explores the difficulty of maintaining one’s truth against the pressure of the crowd. Sometimes that dynamic plays out literally, as one dancer in the cast of seven is the odd person out—for instance, when Blythe Barton does a frantic sequence of arm gestures, out of synch with everyone else.

At other times, there’s simply a sense of danger. Nicholas Strasburg lies on his back, Stephanie Harvey stands on his chest, and he lifts her by the ankles, so she “stands” in mid-air. That kind of acrobatic, risky move is typical of Malashock’s recent work.  (For another breathtaking Harvey-Strasburg pairing, see them this afternoon-Sunday, Nov. 16- in the duet “Silver and Gold,” Malashock’s contribution to City Ballet of San Diego’s show, “Ballet and Beyond,” at the Spreckels Theatre.)

In his latest piece, “Party of One,” Malashock goes for all-out storytelling. Segura (the company’s most gifted actor) and Viernes are among revelers at a club, but neither of them feels part of the fun. When everyone else dances, they try to pick up the steps, but stumble. At times, they connect with someone: Segura hovers eagerly as Barton and Andrew Holmes quarrel (verbally, as well as physically); Holmes moves toward Segura, but Barton reclaims him. Harvey does a show-stealing turn, her long hair flying, prancing up to Viernes, to “I Want to Dance with Somebody;” reluctantly, he lets her drag him onto the dance floor, but he’s got no moves.

Will the two outcasts ever find each other? Yes! When Segura and Viernes at long last make eye contact, the whole cast breaks into a joyous unison number to “Hot Stuff.” The story could have ended there. But Malashock doesn’t just love narrative, he’s a master of it; and, after the disco party, Segura and Viernes come to the front of the stage and start singing “Moon River.” The rest of the cast joins them, then invites us to sing along. It’s a superb denouement that anchors the excitement—and goes deeper, adding an ironic but compassionate twist to our very human need to find love.

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Steinberg is a freelance writer specializing in the arts. She may be contacted via janice.steinberg@sdjewishworld.com