Strange Spectacle: UMS’ Kiss and Cry

Last Friday evening I attended the UMS performance of Kiss and Cry. Until about 5 pm that evening, I had no idea what the show was about, just that I had free tickets (make sure you check out Passport to the Arts for more opportunities to see top notch performances for free throughout the school year) and no plans. As my sister handed me my ticket, she told me the premise of the show: finger ballet. For 90 minutes – with no intermission – I would be watching nothing more than two fingers move around on a miniature stage, filmed and projected on a screen hanging from the rafters of the Power Center Stage. Needless to say, I was concerned. Here I was attending a show I had little to no interest in and accompanying me was a friend whose attendance at theatrical events was limited. If I wasn’t going to enjoy this show, what would they think?

As we waited for the performance to begin I flipped through the program and scoffed when I saw the title of choreographer next to a name. The title of choreographer implies that choreography was done. How could someone who uses two of their fingers be considered a dancer? And without dancers how could someone be said to be a choreographer?

After the show I hesitantly waited for my friend to reveal their thoughts on the performance, and to my relief we both had thoroughly enjoyed the performance.

The performance of Kiss and Cry was more than two fingers alternating which was bent or straight and doing their best to mimic traditional dance. There was a clear story, disseminated to the audience through a narrator, following the five loves of our main character, Giselle. While the projection always focused on the table sets and the doll or hand representing Giselle, the audience was free to see what was out of the scope of the camera. This direct commentary on the power of forced perspective was especially poignant in the final “pas de deux” of the piece. On the projection, fingers were seen swirling and stretching in a manner that, while originally interesting, had become trite over the course of the evening. Subtly lit from above, the interaction of the bodies of the two performers moving between embraces and touch in an intimate and near dance performance pulled focus providing new insight to the finger dance.

The most impressive aspect of the entire performance was the camera work. Most of the show consisted of continuous shots that gave the performance a unique fluidity. The lighting in each shot was nearly perfect – an impressive feat given the live nature of the performance – and had the resulting film been the only thing shown to the audience I would have still been entertained.

I am afraid that this post resembles more of review than a blog post but I was so struck by this performance that I couldn’t help but talk about it. Even now when I reread what I have written the performance sounds interesting although weird at best. Yet, there at the theater there was something indescribably relatable hidden behind the layers of strange spectacle.

Would I see a show like this again? I guess it will depend on my mood, but this show made me think. Think about what is normal in art and in life, what is seen and what is hidden, and reminded me that the beauty of art is finding humanity in the unexpected. So for me, that was an ideal way to spend a Friday night.