The free-wheeling Attackers moved on to the prim and proper confines of the Frick Art & Historical Center in the East End last night with a heightened sense of deja vu for me. This was the very first stage for “Assemble This” when it was known as “Some Assembly Required.” Back then about ten years ago, Attack Theatre consisted of Michele de la Reza and Peter Kope. I can still see two of the art objects they picked, one against a wall in the first room, another a chair in the last gallery.
They’ve come a long way, baby. Can we say charisma? The husband-and-wife team has gone from agreeable and engaging to confidently assertive and risk-taking-explorers of movement and conversation.
So the first thing they encountered was the lady-like “Portrait of Charlotte-Montmorency, Princess de Conde by famed Flemish painter Peter Paul Rubens, adorned with lace collar and lush clothing embellishments and perched in an ornate gold frame. The porcelain-complexioned, aristocratic woman elicited comments like “royalty,” “uncomfortable,” “my feet are hurting” and “something’s itchy” from the sold-out audience, that was placed on equal footing in this dance and music process.
Next was a selection from the Frick’s nifty “New Deal” exhibit, which provided an extra large slice of American life during the Great Depression. Millard Sheets’ “Tenement Flats,” painted in Los Angeles, was the chosen piece. Filled with angled porches, staircases and rooftops connected by laundry lines, it evoked phrases like “overcrowded” (but all women), “shadows,” “vanishing points,” “hot” and “avoiding eye contact.”
They came back to the large urn in the foyer, creamy and curvy (and “isolated,” “lonely” and full of “freedom”) before everyone reconvened in the Frick’s cozy auditorium for the completed work, both the first and last performance.
So what did Attack and audience glean from their Frick journey? Highlights included an “itch that can’t be scratched” duet for Ashley Williams and Dane Toney and another for Toney and Kope as the men behind the Rubens’ portrait. (They “cavorted” while “Charlotte”, a.k.a. de la Reza did a solo. I also loved — as always — the final one, fittingly with de la Reza and Kope. One real inspiration: asking a young woman to clap whenever she wanted and Williams would respond with a wiggling solo. Kope deserves credit for taking audience comments one “step” further.
On to the Children’s Museum. See you at the dance!
Sidebarre:
John Paul Rubens’ style of curvaceous women gave rise to the word “Rubenesque,” most often used to describe choreographer Mark Morris’ female dancers.
The New Deal also embraced theater, writing and dance. When he was asked why money was allotted for thousands of American artists, New Deal administrator Harry Hopkins said, “Hell, they’ve got to eat like other people.” The short-lived Dance Project began to intermix ballet, modern and jazz. Helen Tamiris and Charles Weidman were among those who choreographed socially relevant protest dances. And a burgeoning African-American dance scene, including Katherine Dunham and Asadata Dafora,  began to flourish, with the American Negro Ballet debuting to favorable reviews.