What I liked
The “pilgrimage” to the venue- from battling Santa Monica Blvd gridlock to finally entering the serenity of the cemetery, (oh look, a peacock!) where the posted 5 mph is mostly observed (at least traffic is moving on the hallowed ground.) I park the car, carefully side step between burial plots, and cross the bridge to an island after being asked to write my own 1-2 word epitaph. I enter the semi circle of 25 folding chairs. I sit. I wait. I take in the sounds: preshow music playing gently over burbling water from neighboring fountains, the trill of a black phoebe, (a good omen, I think). I feast my eyes on the sights: the green space, a refuge in the middle of Hollywood. A turtle, a duck, the intimacy of the setting, the battery operated candles (I know they’re on even though it’s too light to see their glow) adorning the tomb steps, the thoughtful scattering of roses (red!) popping against the sun-bleached Georgian marble of the exquisite Clark Mausoleum. The sun creeps just a little lower, and the show begins. First, with tentative steps; then, a facial transformation, and finally the artist spins herself into an infinity of flowering red, the billowing skirt ripples mirroring the roses so carefully strewn.
What I didn't like
Unfortunately, there’s more drama in the setting itself than there is in the actual production. I had high expectations: a site specific, movement-based devised work whose text was sourced from local epitaphs – count me in! The premise alone holds so much promise.
The choreography was rudimentary and repetitive, the gesture work lacking purposeful specificity. The bulk of the movement was confined to a small circle of a red rug, despite the expansive patio- (the patio littered with roses, you may recall. Oh! How I desperately wanted the artist to dance across, thorns and all; imagine a reckless display of abandonment, a sacrificial tribute to life. Or – destroy the roses, scatter their ashes on the audience. Or – use them for multiple purposes throughout, pair meaning with some magical quick changes (to get her out of the awkwardly fitting skirt) for each stage of grief. Or- forget the roses and have the artist slowly decompose throughout the movement before our eyes. Or, or, or…)
There were so many things this piece could have been.
Devised work can be powerful and thrilling to witness, but the diction of “Together Forever” felt like it was cut and slapped together without taking full advantage of curation, and with little regard to craft. Ultimately, I witnessed a dancer with an expressive face and a nebulous point-of-view in an inspiring location, but I found the most compelling drama on stage was wondering if the artist was going to get the lipstick off of her teeth.
My overall impression
The stage is set for a dance piece about resting in peace at the iconic Hollywood Forever Cemetery…
