Rosy Simas naked torso, kneeling, facing away from me.
Rosy puts on the white dress.
She disappears, she comes back in black.
She is still facing away from me.
She tears the map and passes it out.
The lights go dark and I wonder if the next part is coming – but its over.
The images of the forest, of the school girls, of her gramma, of the maps and the land, images of the flood.
Sounds of a language I don’t speak or understand, sounds of her mother reading letters, sounds of a clock ticking, sounds of water rushing or the forest creaking. Metallic, digitized versions of a human voice. Like speaking through mesh screens and tinfoil static.
Rosalinda’s hands and body telling a language that I don’t speak but I can understand, especially along with the words.
The soundscape reminded me of post modern dance, a small thing repeated and layered into abstraction.
So what does it all mean to me?
I would not have got this if it hadn’t been for the talkback/program notes
but I am feeling the idea of time traveling both ways and that if we hold the blood memories of our ancestors, we can also heal their pain in reverse through time with our expression. I totally believe that but I can’t say that I got that from the movement in the work. I appreciate the verbal storytelling that took place afterward, but Rosy’s movements were not super evocative for me. Reaching, hands outstretched, wrapping around the back of the body, feeling and palpating the spine, sometimes holding herself like a baby, holding herself at the base of the skull and the lower back like you do for a baby. Something ritualistic about the movements, meditative and internally focused. Minimal, efficient, elegant, soundless, her movements were soundless. The room seemed airless, how the wrinkled paper sets didn’t catch the slightest breeze, I couldn’t hear her breath. For once I wasn’t freezing cold in the Red Eye. For me these are textures, atmospheres — different than getting a huge burst of emotion or narrative from movement. A subtler experience.
by Kenna-Camara Cottman
We Wait In Darkness by Rosy Simas
July 9-12, 2014
Red Eye Theater