Photo: Cheshire Isaacs

Lili Weckler | Unhinge rocks the Earth with mixed results

By Garth Grimball

Minimalism is a privilege. This is the creed of maximalist artist and Macarthur “genius” Taylor Mac, whose genre-blurring, activism-cum-cabaret acts use spectacle as a means to communicate urgency. Minimalism allows time to process and reflect. Maximalism demands action.

SiStars Strange & The Shatterer of Worlds by Lili Weckler | Unhinge, presented as part of the San Francisco International Arts Festival 2019 season, is a maximalist show created with minimal resources. A choreographic rock opera, the libretto details the story of Lovechild (Weckler), who must reunite her parents Earth (Scott McPheeters) and Death (Alisha Ragon) to stop the Shatterer (Jennifer Meller) over the course of eleven loose scenes. Rounding out the cast is Jane Selna as Sistar Strange and Cory Vangelder and Hannah Ayasse as Forces of the Shattered World.

If “choreographic rock opera” summons visions of sequins, glitter, gold lamé, tutus, and Ziggy Stardust-inspired make-up, this show delivers. The strongest unifying element in this production is the design aesthetic. Performed in the Fort Mason Chapel, the sparkle of the costumes glimmer and wink with the stained glass creating a sacred/profane tableau. Unfortunately, the sum is not equal to the parts. The choreography, the rock, and the opera are present but rarely combine in united force.

The musical score, directed by Meller, is stellar. The songs and their orchestration are dynamic with impressive harmonies, choral rounds, guitar shredding, and subtle atmospheric movements that generate plot momentum. The entire cast impresses, meeting the demands and nuances of the music. However, performances falter in embodying the music to serve the narrative. The performers move back and forth between the sound stage area and the designated dancing area as the scenes demand. This spatial fluidity isn’t in itself distracting, but without a clear sense of when performers are commenting on the action like a Greek chorus, or, being the center of the action, the motivations vary in distinction. A standout is Meller as The Shatterer belting the song “White Lace,” as three cast members step-touch behind her costumed in skeleton painted sandwich boards. Meller struts and tip-toes in her platform boots, seducing Death, and her vocal and physical qualities synthesize to become a specific character. If only that specificity was directed in each performer. McPheeters as Earth is serving a modern dance version of John Cameron Mitchell’s Hedwig character; mean mugging and condescension that drips off high cheekbones. While Ragon seems to be performing Death not as a character but as a neutral conductor for Symbolism. She doesn’t react so much as move as a blank canvas for costumes and props to adhere to as plot points. If this is a directorial choice, it is not clear.

Photo: Cheshire Isaacs

Similarly uneven is the choreography. No character has movement indicative of a persona. There are unison group sections, contact improv weight sharing, gesture phrases, pointe work, social dances, and an extended sequence with a large swath of electric red fabric. Again, it’s difficult to tell when choices were made, or, dramaturgy gave way to can-do groupthink in the spirit of playing it fast and loose. Which is a shame as there is some bewitching choreography. Selna swirls in the fabric, and the prop becomes an extension of her viney form. Ayasse lights through the space in a solo during the finale that feels like an EKG blast. In her fast and authoritative movement, she engages with her cast mates and sparks the only moment of dramatic tension in this shaggy production.

In addition to “choreographic rock opera,” SiStars Strange & The Shatterer of Worlds describes itself as “punk” and “queer.” The most non-normative quality in this show has nothing to do with gender or boundaries or performance theories. This show is earnest. Earnest feels radical and unbound. Earnest melts away irony to reveal heart. Weckler is open and genuine in her art-making, and she invites her collaborators and the audience to be the same. The success of the art in reckoning with “environmental, political, and social unraveling” is questionable. But sounding the alarm with guileless energy and a rallying guitar riff is heartening. There’s nothing minimal to it.

Photo: Cheshire Isaacs

Garth Grimball is a writer and dance artist based in Oakland, California. He is the co-director of Wax Poet(s), company member of Dana Lawton Dances, and performs regularly with Oakland Ballet.

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