Created by: Blanche Blacke
At: Shakura Ensemble Ritual Theatre at the Theatre Building, 1225 W. Belmont
Phone: ( 773 ) 327-5252; $27
Runs through: Oct. 5
In order to fully appreciate performance artist cum shaman Blanche Black's latest foray into multi-media creativity, you need to do some research. It helps to know a little bit about what the good-intentioned Blacke is doing with this piece, which explores human sexuality using ritual, music, dance, and video projections. Perhaps it would help to know that Blacke was inspired by a trip to New Guinea, where she witnessed native primal sexual rituals. Perhaps it would help to know that Blacke considers herself a spiritual healer, and that Shakura means 'grace and gratitude' in Sanskrit. Perhaps it would help to know that some of the other works in Symphony of Sex have their roots in classical Greek mythology, Tibetan lore, and the workings of the inner self and the outer self when it comes to how we express ourselves sexually.
But most of us have only a working knowledge of any of the above, if we have any knowledge at all. Symphony of Sex, in my opinion, needs to stand on its own two feet as a theatrical experience; the knowledge behind its creation may enrich our appreciation for Blacke's work, but should not have to support it.
Does Symphony of Sex stand on its own? Can one enjoy this 90-minute blend of chanting, movement, poetry, light, and sound without knowing something about shamanistic ritual or what Blanche Black's mission is? Yes and no. Symphony of Sex is a mixed bag. When it's good, it's very, very good … and when it's bad, it's horrid.
Symphony of Sex is divided up into five very disparate parts, all of which revolve around sexual expression and how sex can be a spiritual, life-affirming experience. No arguments here. But it's hard to consider Symphony as a cohesive piece, since the five pieces vary so much in quality.
The first piece, accompanied by Tom Denney's video art, is called 'Insatiable Desire for Context' and shows what happens when a handsome bridegroom ( Gregory Winston ) , saddled with a bride he obviously isn't ready for, lets his imagination and libido run wild. This piece is an example of the horrid. It's pretentious, art school stuff, with Blacke in the background ululating for all she's worth. The projections, abstract and inelegant, contribute little to the theme. The second piece delves into the myth of Aphrodite and mines female sexuality and its power for an artistic payload that doesn't arrive. Gregory Winston, mouthing poetry, is nearly inaudible. One wonders if this portion would have held up better if we could understand what he's saying.
And so it goes. What really works here is the third piece, which is set in 1800s New Guinea and depicts primal, raw sexuality. Here, theme and execution merge, and the results are pretty satisfying. Percussive music, evocative lighting, and truly inspired choreography lend a true grace to this sensual portrait of human sexual connection. If the remainder of the show could have been up to the standard of this piece, we'd really have something worthy of recommendation. But we don't.
Blacke leaves us with the words that sex can be: divine, graceful, beautiful, wondrous, and spiritual. She aims high in trying to tie all these attributes into her work, but doesn't quite make the mark.
