Theater/Geek 08/08/2012 3:43pm

How much context does a Fringe show need to provide? Dance shows have been a problem for me because, although I appreciate the skill and training that goes into the work, I've had trouble connecting the movement on stage to "meaning" in my head. I perceive people moving through space, but couldn't connect that to the artistic content that the choreographers and dancers are trying to convey. Let me be clear: I'm not saying it's not there, I'm saying I lacked the ability to perceive it. Which is why it was such a revelation when casebolt and smith came to town two years ago with O(h), a dance show that bridged that gap with monologues (performed while dancing) about how their bodies were arranged in space, and what was possible using the combinations available to them. In one sequence, the history of a popular drum break is explained by an academic. As the sound clip is altered over history to become more and more abstract, the dance changed, too, segueing into a piece where Casebolt went through a motion over and over and Smith hectored her with questions about the origin, history, and artistic authenticity of the move. O(h) was a revelatory show for me because it helped me to understand how I was thinking about dance. I was trying to transform the dance into a symbolic narrative, a pantomime story, if you will. They explained the artistic grammar that dance uses in a way I could finally grasp. I'm not saying it's turned me into a enthusiast for dance, but they did broaden my perspective and gave me a better idea of what I, as an audience member, am expected to bring to the table. Happy Hour* also provides a key to its audience: each dance is "inspired" by an alcoholic drink. But that's just the starting point—it could be about the drink itself, being drunk, the culture that surrounds the drink, or the symbolism of how the drink is used. Understanding that theme helped me make an initial connection with each piece, even if the dance later became abstract and divorced from a clear symbolic connection. Now: what if your show is based on pop culture? This year I co-wrote a show about William Shatner and there's a debate going on in the reviews about how much you know about him going in to the show will affect your enjoyment. Some say you have to be a fan, some say they it works on its own. What strikes me is that when Tim Wick and I were writing the show, the question of how much to explain about Shatner's career did not even occur to us because he, in all his incarnations, has been part of our cultural dialogue since the 60s. We assume that you know why wearing a red shirt around Captain Kirk is a bad idea. Class of '98 takes a similar approach: characters are introduced with brief snippets of pop songs from the era, and at another point a Saturday Night Live routine proves crucial. Font of Knowledge likewise assumes you understand why the hero would do anything for the Helvetica font. There's no explanations given within these shows for these moments: we assume you Speak Geek if you're going to see the show after seeing the title and reading the description, and mapping out the joke won't make it funny to the people who didn't get it in the first place. I'm not saying context is a dirty word. I am a huge advocate of rewriting my scripts if anyone comes up with a line that'll make a scene work better (or get a bigger laugh). But I also trust myself to know what I think is a good line and will leave it in because that's the statement I want to make. And then, once in a while I'll be sitting in the balcony, in the dark, and hear one other person laugh at that one line. Mirab, his sails unfurled, yo. --- *Disclosure: one of the choreographers and dancers in Happy Hour is Sara Stevenson Scrimshaw, a friend of mine.