I was gonna wait to tell you this but

Choreographer:  Kristopher K. Q. Pourzal

Performer:  Kristopher K. Q. Pourzal

The soloist, Pourzal, announced his arrival with several “Hello’s” and entered the stage overloaded with miscellaneous props. We were immediately clued that this dance piece was going to incorporate some theatrical elements, and we eagerly waited to see how that would play out. That goodwill was short-lived. He settled himself on his exercise ball, arranged some paraphernalia and began a monologue that quickly segued to his issue with a Time magazine subscription.

To illustrate, he held up a year’s worth of the magazines and began to read the covers aloud, word for word. I held out until about the fourth recitation of a Time magazine cover for this subscription that he had cancelled (yes, this was the thematic tie-in to the title). Reading aloud one Time magazine cover would have been a set up. Two covers would have been the transition to – something. Three covers was entering bad conceptual art territory. Four covers confirmed our arrival in the land of What the Hell?. And it went downhill from there.

Awkwardness happened with enough frequency that it could almost be part of the style, but I’m pretty sure it was just unintentionally awkward – as in unrehearsed. Struggling with getting the magazines out of the tote bag. Problems with holding and presenting the magazines. Struggling with removing the costume – twice. Pausing to rearrange props. This felt like it was being adlibbed – and not brilliantly. By the time we got to the dance sequence, it seemed unconnected to anything. And then that was followed by some aimless walking around while dropping things and picking them up.

There’s a scale that goes from Camp to Kitsch to Crap. The problem with this piece is that the needle kept moving. In the end, all we were left with were questions.

Was it conceptual art, elevating the mundane to challenge our sense of priorities?
Was it sophisticated physical comedy, just without the humor?
Was it something and then some dance and then something else?
Was it low-brow clowning?
Was it based on Kierkegaard references that went completely over our heads?
Was it improv theater with a secret theme?
Was it proof that outrageousness and banality are two sides of the same coin?
Was it self-indulgent?
Was it lazy?
Both?

As an audience member, I found that the problem with debating fine distinctions like this was that it quickly became exhausting. In the end, I couldn’t come to a firm conclusion and the lights were already up on the next performance.

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