Dancing Chairs and a Suitcase of Dreams

13 03 2008

No, I haven’t been eating magic mushrooms. Not that I wouldn’t if I had them. Instead, I chanced onto a ticket to Pilobolus, which turned out to be a stroke of genius. The choreography veered from physical comedy to graceful, gritty, tender movement. One piece relied on a number of chairs as props, with one of the male dancers eventually entangled by every limb in a heap of them, suitcase in hand. I moved from my wonderful old house less than a week ago and that’s just how I felt during the move  – tangled up in too many chairs. And in the end, the suitcase of dreams went to the bus station without its owner.




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