The Mirror by Gravity and Other Myths presented by DanceHouse and The Cultch
January 24 – 27 | Vancouver Playhouse
A hand reaches through the black stage curtain, fumbling as it tries to turn on a boombox. Giving up on that, the body attached to the hand emerges from behind the curtain and moves the boombox, which is perched atop a stand, to sit in front of a microphone. As singer Megan Drury pauses on a catchy song on the radio, the curtains open to reveal the rest of the company performing various dance moves or acrobatic tricks. With an improvisational, playful tone, we’re left wondering what we’ll see next, what song Drury will land on next. This sets the tone for the evening — there is never a dull moment, and the audience never knows exactly what feat they’ll feast their eyes on next.
Drury, in white shorts and crop top under a comfy white robe, begins singing “Summertime and the Livin’ is Easy” in a slow and sultry rendition that captivates us. She continues with a medley of uplifting pop-rock hits. Meanwhile, the curtains are pulled across the stage to strategically obscure and reveal as the rest of the company continues to delight us with various acts of gravity defying acrobatics. Seeing only what is revealed to us adds to the element of surprise as suddenly two acrobats fall from either side of the curtain into the waiting arms of a partner below.
After this opening segment, light tubes are removed from the proscenium and a bright white screen is brought on stage—perhaps symbolizing a mirror or a cell phone screen or both. A voiceover declares phrases such as “subtlety is lost” as the company begins to move as a cohesive whole, shifting from one formation to another with effortlessly smooth acrobatic partnering and group formations. Most impressive is a formation of five in which two performers are standing on the shoulders of others, and the fifth is held up above them by her feet. As they slowly walk apart, she is pulled into the splits until she’s pushed up and lands gracefully on top of a partner’s shoulders. Gasps were heard from throughout the audience.
With a healthy dose of humour and some modern clowning, a memorable scene involved treating two of the performers like mannequins as they are dressed and manoeuvred into all sorts of positions, participating in acrobatic tricks all the while. In another scene the company fumbles about with a costume change, shouting at each other to hurry up and reviewing their moves, allowing us an entertaining glimpse into what a circus rehearsal might look like.
Drury’s haunting vocals were not only an extremely enjoyable element, but they were also an immensely meaningful addition to the work’s narrative of finding an authentic identity and being proud of it. In a slick pant suit, she lounges on a human couch formed by about six acrobats, walks up stairs formed by their backs, and stands atop shoulders while never missing a note of the clever pop lyric mashup. Selfie stick in hand, she meanders through the audience and back onstage into an expertly choregraphed acrobatic relay; she talks about being too sexy for her shirt, shaking it off, and wanting to dance with somebody as her face is projected onto the large screen on stage.
A finale of neon lingerie and acrobatic stunts tops off this show that didn’t seem like it could pack in any more impressive moments. For its athletic and artistic virtuosity and intelligent themes, The Mirror is a wildly impressive work unlike any contemporary circus I’ve seen.
Photos courtesy of Andy Phillipson.