Amidst a day filled with news of job loss, bombings, and gloomy predictions, I found myself meditating over the final scene in Radio Play. Dancer Peggy Baker and actor Michael Healey sit together, on a raised table, their faces nearly touching, their hands joined. It's the end of a beautiful, poetic journey, and a powerful symbol of connection.
Though I'm not well-versed in modern dance, I found myself entirely entranced with the movement-meets-theatre piece. It asks nothing more than turning off that part of your brain that constantly seeks to understand, to make sense of, to explain. As Marcel Duchamp said, "This desire to understand everything fills me with horror." Like art, there's something resoundingly primal about dance -particularly modern dance. One either reacts by shutting down at its confounding nature, or opens up entirely to its instinctual roots. I found myself willingly knocking down my walls of intense rationalism watching Radio Play, frequently relating to the trials and frustrations faced by Marnie (played by Peggy Baker); the changing nature of her relationship with Angus (played by Healey) was equally compelling, and was expressed with brushes of subtlety and grace.
I also found myself connecting some of the issues Radio Play raises -namely the idea around how artists make a living -with yesterday's layoff of the members of the B.C. Ballet. There is still a predominant attitude, at least in certain circles, that working as an artist doesn't constitute "real art." I'd argue that a dancer is every bit as vital to the economy as a Magna employee. And after seeing a piece like Radio Play, I'm more convinced than ever of the importance and vitality of culture in harsh times. It's only by turning that needling, analytical voice off, and allowing a few subconscious realizations, that one finds any sense of clarity. If you're in or around Toronto, run -there are only three more performances.