Because I can, doesn’t necessarily mean…

‘Because I can!’ repeated performer Lauren Potter, over and over, to the extent that I started to wonder ‘Can she?’. For it was with these three words that I not only noticed the start of a trend at this year’s Spring Forward Festival, but also began to question whether such a trend was entirely forward-thinking. This trend could be described as the (Less) Subtle Art of Navel-Gazing.

In fact, Because I Can could well have been the tagline of the whole festival. I counted eight performances out of 21 that were preoccupied with the unapologetic self. All eight foregrounded the ‘I’ in words, words, words — be they written, spoken, or sung. And then there were a further four performances that, while not technically rotating on the axis of the ‘I’, were nevertheless consumed by language. That is, nearly 40% and 20% respectively. Which are startling enough statistics to beg the question: why? Why was so much movement steeped in meandering sentences, if not maundering soliloquies? And did such words make the dances on show more articulate or tongue-tied?

And this is where ‘I’ come in: the all-observing, but no less self-serving, dance critic. Of course, I could go through the entire roster of performances, comparing how brilliantly or badly they each fared. But then that would not be entirely fair, given how deeply personal their stories were. Which poses something of a quandary for the dance critic: how does one critique a creative piece that borders on the downright confessional, without inadvertently passing judgement on what is, essentially, somebody’s life? How does one comment on the choreography, say, without commenting on the choreographer? Or, indeed, the dance without the dancer?

It takes a great deal of tact, that’s what. And ‘tact’ is what this year’s Spring Forward Festival taught me, above all, to exercise. To tread more lightly in the footsteps of a cohort of choreographers and dancers who had literally, as much as figuratively, poured their hearts and souls into their performances. Just because I can write a damning review of all those dance pieces that I felt were too self-absorbed for their own good, doesn’t necessarily mean I should. Rather, if to continue in the same self-reflexive vein as the festival, allow me to conclude with something of a personal predilection: the less talking and the more dancing the better.

Liza Weber