I love
The Moving Company, but they make my job very difficult. Because mere words cannot describe the magic that they create on stage. I didn't fully understand everything that was happening on the Southern Theater stage last night, but I found myself inexplicably moved by the combination of words, silence, movement, performance, sound, and lighting. I guess that's why they call themselves The Moving Company; they move people, and isn't that what art is all about? So I can't tell you exactly what you'll see
if you go see at low tide (and you should), and what you see may be different from what I saw. But I can guarantee that you will be moved, and transported into another dimension for about 80 minutes.
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| Steven Epp and Nathan Keepers (photo courtesy of MoCo) |
at low tide was conceived and written by The Moving Company's Co-Artistic Directors Dominique Serrand and Steven Epp and Producing Artistic Director Nathan Keepers. The former directs, and the latter two perform the piece along with Kenzi Allen and Maggie Chestovich. The four performers play not so much characters as ideas. Kenzi is the air we breathe, or the wind, or the rain, moving around the space with a fluid grace embodying those things. Maggie plays a dog, sort of, representing the more earthy elements. Nathan plays a being that carries all the pain of everyone who's ever lived. And Steven plays, well, the reveal of it is just too absurd and wonderful to spoil here. He also functions as a narrator, introducing the characters and marking the passage of days. All of these creatures speak at times, but say just as much when not speaking, the focus shifting among the four of them.
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the air (Kenzi Allen) and the dog (Maggie Chestovich)
(photo courtesy of MoCo) |
There are long stretches of silence that are filled with movement that emulates the tide, and convey emotions from despair to joy and everything in between. I'm not sure I've seen a show in which the sound and lighting design are so integral to the storytelling. Beautifully chosen classical music accompanies some of the scenes, sometimes there is silence, and sometimes there are loud booms or cracks of lighting. The lighting changes from bright garish daylight to the warmest softest sunset glow, that the kids call "the golden hour." Costumes are also integral to the storytelling; the air dressed in light flowing ethereal garments that create a sense of movement, the dog more grounded in black with trailing fringes, the others in suit pieces with coats that take on a character of their own.
I can't imagine this piece being performed anywhere other than the Southern, with its cavernous space and ancient brick walls that hold so much history. A white wall has been constructed across the back halfway up the arch, with occasional projections displayed on the brick wall above it. The sparse set includes only a few long rectangular crates, a white geometric shape, and a long board used in creative ways. And because this is The Moving Company, the elements are literally represented with the use of water, earth, and air to create some lovely effects. Everything about this piece, from the design to the direction to the performance, is so thoughtful and meaningful and exquisitely lovely. And even if you might not understand the literal meaning of everything, the emotional truth of the piece is always clear. (Lighting design by Marcus Dilliard, set and sound design by Dominique Serrand, costume design by Sonya Berlovitz.)
at low tide is a piece that speaks directly to the time that we live in, but is also outside of time. It's both hopeful and despairing, heavy and light as air. The final thought, about setting a place at the table for happiness, is one that will stay with me for a while. This quote from the website perhaps describes it best:
…in the meantime, four intrepid souls
put one determined foot in front of the other,
eager to reach that place where…at low tide…
the sea greets the sky. And hope prevails.
