“It’s new territory – very scary,” admits Alexandra Beller, after a run-through of us, her new hour-long solo work. Her earlier dance-theater works may have been inspired by Chekhov, Sartre and Virginia Woolf, but this time she is working straight from her heart –and guts. The American flag that is a primary prop—or partner—initially covers her immobile form, which undulates and erupts, as Beller is revealed in all her confrontational glory. Alternately sweet and brutal, she makes rough use of a collection of inflatable sex dolls, seizes items out of a trash can with her mouth and turns that flag into a noose, a burka and a baby. She makes tender love to a salmon-colored mop which then seemingly turns on her and is relegated to the trash can.
Fervent political speeches alternate with oldies from a more innocent time in the accompanying sound score, along with chunks of the national anthem and “Home on the Range.” The audience, distributed equally on four sides, is drawn into the action, assigned occasional participatory tasks.
Us, which is directed by Kristin Marting, grew out of Beller’s intense disgust at the 2004 election results. “I was so disheartened that so many people are so intolerant of many things that I believe in: people’s right to marry each other, a woman’s right to choose, country’s right not to be torn apart by a war that is unjust,” says Beller, who performed with Bill T. Jones for six years before starting to present her own works. “So many things were eating at me, and needed to be addressed through my art. So I couldn’t make another work drawing on Chekhov; I’d had a Seagull piece in mind. I see this as something that had to come out of me.”
During her performance, she treats the dolls in ways that are, to say the least, disturbing. Beller explained, “I feel like that’s what happens to women in this country; I feel like that’s what legislation does to women. The government can just take away their right to choose, to have freedom over their bodies, to own their sexuality, to be free from violence in their homes. I feel like the country just takes women, blows them up and deflates them as it chooses. And I feel like a lot of women are complicit. Every time I turn on the TV I see women selling themselves out to this pornographic image of women. It encourages women to be treated like fuck dolls.”
The seeds for us were planted several years ago, but full development had to wait while she completed a group work performed last year at DTW, and gave birth to her son, now nine months old. Performing solo is a brand-new experience for her, as is the degree of audience interaction. “I feel that in this piece I’m dealing with the country and the citizens around me, and I’m trying to have a conversation with them.”
June 21-24, HERE Arts Center, 6 Ave.(one block below Spring St.), 212-352-3101. Thurs-Sat. 8:30; Sun. 4 & 8, $20.
Fervent political speeches alternate with oldies from a more innocent time in the accompanying sound score, along with chunks of the national anthem and “Home on the Range.” The audience, distributed equally on four sides, is drawn into the action, assigned occasional participatory tasks.
Us, which is directed by Kristin Marting, grew out of Beller’s intense disgust at the 2004 election results. “I was so disheartened that so many people are so intolerant of many things that I believe in: people’s right to marry each other, a woman’s right to choose, country’s right not to be torn apart by a war that is unjust,” says Beller, who performed with Bill T. Jones for six years before starting to present her own works. “So many things were eating at me, and needed to be addressed through my art. So I couldn’t make another work drawing on Chekhov; I’d had a Seagull piece in mind. I see this as something that had to come out of me.”
During her performance, she treats the dolls in ways that are, to say the least, disturbing. Beller explained, “I feel like that’s what happens to women in this country; I feel like that’s what legislation does to women. The government can just take away their right to choose, to have freedom over their bodies, to own their sexuality, to be free from violence in their homes. I feel like the country just takes women, blows them up and deflates them as it chooses. And I feel like a lot of women are complicit. Every time I turn on the TV I see women selling themselves out to this pornographic image of women. It encourages women to be treated like fuck dolls.”
The seeds for us were planted several years ago, but full development had to wait while she completed a group work performed last year at DTW, and gave birth to her son, now nine months old. Performing solo is a brand-new experience for her, as is the degree of audience interaction. “I feel that in this piece I’m dealing with the country and the citizens around me, and I’m trying to have a conversation with them.”
June 21-24, HERE Arts Center, 6 Ave.(one block below Spring St.), 212-352-3101. Thurs-Sat. 8:30; Sun. 4 & 8, $20.
