Threads review, mnfringe show 41, every single one: Part dance show, part documentary, a cancer survivor and dancer documents her journey and 3 generations of her family as the disease invades all their lives in different ways; still here, still dancing; a really rich, layered audience experience - 5 stars (my fringe Top 20 write-up)
Side note: I thought I’d been in my smallest mnfringe audience with a house of 6 a few days ago; “every single one” just had only 4; artist lost first 2 perfs to covid; bounced back, but it’d be great to give her last show Sunday 8/11 at 2:30pm some love if you’re looking for something you haven’t seen before. It’s fascinating stuff, deserves a bigger crowd.
“The more times I go through it, the less power it has over me.”
[Editor note: “every single one” has periods in the title between the words but when I try to input that into a blog post, the overly helpful Blogger platform keeps insisting on turning the title automatically into a link to a web page that doesn’t exist. Threads also does this. No matter how many times I undo, the internet keeps creating a new web link to nowhere. So, for sanity’s sake, I’ve removed the periods from the title. I know that’s incorrect, but the blog won’t allow me to post the name correctly.]
“Bring all that to the floor.”
A friend who saw me in the lobby after emerging from a performance of “every single one” came over to give me a hug. Since we hadn’t had a chance to properly hug the previous time we’d seen each other out and about around the Fringe Festival, I thought she was just making sure we had a proper hug this time in greeting one another. But actually, no, she was concerned that I’d just come out of a show dealing with cancer (and the death of a parent) and thought I might need consoling.
“I look at this as a mystery I’m trying to solve.”
I did not need consoling, though it was a lovely gesture to be so concerned. My mother did die of cancer (a brain tumor) five years ago, so it’s not a stretch to think seeing a show like “every single one” might set off some kind of emotional response. In fact another friend texting back and forth a day or so ago gave me fair warning that I should probably ready to do some self-care after seeing Allison Vincent’s 5-star solo show “Daddy Issues.” I, too, was a bit worried about that one, given that show was about caring for an ailing parent who eventually dies and needing to clean out their childhood home (both of which I could definitely relate to). I did not cry or become otherwise overwhelmed at either of these shows, and no one is more surprised than I. I’ll give a lot of the credit to two years of intensive grief counseling through Family Means (if you need counseling of any kind, they’re great, and take insurance - though I did have a bit of a time stuck on the wait list - very much worth the wait, though.).
“I will continue to dance. I always have.”
But I think I also need to give credit to both of the artists involved in those solo Fringe shows (Allison Vincent for “Daddy Issues” and Cherie Sampson for “every single one”). Neither of these artists are just randomly yanking manipulatively at people’s heart strings (oh, look, someone’s parent is dying; oh, look, someone has cancer). In each case, the artist is presenting their own very personal story, with all of its accompanying detail and specifics. So as an audience, we’re not just reacting to general situation that might make us sad. We’re watching a story, happening to someone else. We may feel empathy or sympathy (and hopefully we do), but we’re not being confronted with our own story. We’re allowed some distance.
“It is like becoming a baby again.”
Cherie Sampson in “every single one” is opening up her story into the broader community of cancer survivors, and the broader scope of the medical community, with its pluses and minuses. “every single one” is a dance show, but it’s also a bit of a documentary. Sampson dances on the expanse of the Southern Theater stage, but behind her on the brick back wall behind the stone proscenium arch is an enormous projection, dwarfing both her and us in the audience.
“The dance begins with a prayer.”
The projection includes multiple segments throughout the show of fellow cancer survivors telling their own stories (how they got their diagnosis, how they dealt with treatment, how they’re living now, what they’ve learned) over filmed closeups of flowers, trees and nature.
“Without your exuberant will to live, I am useless.”
The projection also frequently has text scrolling across it, providing transcripts of phone calls and emails which were part of Sampson’s own cancer treatment journey. Also at times, the font of the works can grow huge, when the information they convey to Sampson (medical jargon, treatment names) is overwhelming. At the end, this convention is flipped, when a flurry of new treatment options and research avenues in the fight against cancer fill the projected space on the wall.
“It’s in you, but it is something you’re fighting against.”
The projection also shares pictures and video of Sampson, both when she’s undergoing treatment, and when she’s working with her dance mentor to continue dancing all through her sickness, with whatever spare energy she may have, to bolster herself and give her hope and resolve to fight.
“Do only what it needed. Nothing more, nothing less.”
And Cherie Sampson is still here, still dancing, presenting this story in its many forms. But it’s not just her story, it’s her family’s story. Breast cancer also struck her sister before, and then recurred during Sampson’s treatment, so both sister’s were fighting cancer together. Cherie’s sister Kris has past experience to help her sister, but they also come into conflict over differences in opinion about the kind of treatment they want to engage with (Western medicine, alternative medicine, counseling, etc.) In addition, their father’s health declines in this time period and the sister’s have to deal with the death of their father on top of everything else. The sound design includes recordings of their father playing piano, the classics as well as some of his own compositions, and the projection includes photos of the father playing piano with a baby in his lap, one of the girls.
“When I saw her with the binders of her research, I cried. I thought, ‘My family is in there.’”
The projection also includes medical scans, static and moving, projected so large on the back wall that they tower over the dancer, particularly when she walks right up to the wall and the projection washes over her entirely. There is also a repeated motif of seeing Sampson in nature, sometimes naked, clinging to and sometimes blending in with the trunk and limbs of a tree. It’s a stunning use of visuals.
“A tangerine popsicle, the last thing you ever ate.”
Cancer can be genetically passed on from one generation to the next. The sisters need to reassure their father that they don’t blame him for their cancer. And Cherie’s son Taren must wrestle with the ethics of having children, knowing he could pass the susceptibility to cancer onto a child of his own. In the end, we learn that Cherie is a new grandmother, to a little girl. And Sampson’s fervent wish is that, by the time the child is old enough to be tested for genetic markers for cancer, the wide variety of new approaches and treatments will allow her to deal with whatever may come.
“70 percent aggressive - what the hell does that mean?”
In addition to Sampson as creator, writer, performer, producer, video projection and sound designer and co-choreographer (phew), others offering assistance were Cheryl Black as director and dramaturg (with additional dramaturgical work from Xiomara Cornejo), Judy Bales as costume designer, Kandice Grossman as the voice of Cherie’s sister Kris, Anjali Tata-Hudson as co-choreographer, and Charles Gran and Ned McGowan as music composers.
“I have a choice between love and fear.”
“every single one” rather than being depressing or overwhelming, is an enormously hopeful and optimistic presentation. It avoids being either overly clinical or overly sentimental. It presents reality. And sometimes reality can have happy endings. I’m sure this production can fit into any room or venue that might have it, but I’m very glad we get a chance to see “every single one” in a space like the Southern Theater. The vastness of the space, the height of that grand arch, the ability to project images so large on that back wall, I think it adds to feeling of being dwarfed by cancer, the medical community, and the struggle to survive - this one, lone dancer, so small in such a big space. It really helps bring the message home.
“As soon as you hear the word ‘cancer,’ you don’t hear anything else.”
See “every single one” - they’ve got one more performance tomorrow, Sunday 8/11 at 2:30pm. It’s a great example of the Fringe holding a place for all different kinds of stories.
5 Stars - Very Highly Recommended
Here's some handy links to coverage of shows I've seen in the Fringe this year getting 5 and 4.5 Stars (Very Highly Recommended), 4 and 3.5 Stars (Highly Recommended) as well as the shows ranking 3 stars or less; also links to this year's Top 10 list and Top 11-20 list, also a full list of all returning favorites to this year's Fringe, plus a link to ALL the 2024 Minnesota Fringe Festival coverage.
While I have your attention, please VOTE :)
Minnesota is currently in the early voting period
for our Congressional and local primaries (I had the U.S. Senate,
Congress, and the Minneapolis school board on my ballot) - final day to
vote in the primary is Tuesday, August 13th, but you don't have to wait
until Fringe is over, go vote right now :)
Early voting for the Presidential Election itself in Minnesota starts on Friday, September 20th.
We're lucky to have a lot of time to get our voices heard, so cast your
vote, and then make sure everyone you know and love is registered and
gets to the polls to vote. Election Day, your final date to vote, is Tuesday, November 5th.
As a queer playwright and theater maker, I want a government that's compassionate and competent enough to keep us all safe and healthy, keep theaters open and running, and personally, I'd just like to be legal myself and keep the weirdos out of government and out of my personal business (and the things I post on this blog, for instance). We all have our reasons, so let's make sure we get the leaders we need and deserve, and get our friends, family and co-workers to raise their voices, too.
Find where to vote and what's on your ballot (with links to candidate websites) and other resources at the Minnesota Secretary of State's website.
For other resources on how to register, volunteer or donate, locally or nationally, check out Vote Save America.
Vote. Raise your voice. We're not going back.
No comments:
Post a Comment