Bolstered by her deep-seated passion, Beth Corning is the most politically astute choreographer working in the local dance field today. She spent much of her career in autobiographic dance theater, where we watched her personal and universally memorable images — the dining table, the doll, the kitchen — incorporated into intense moments of art.

Last year, 2022, was a breakthrough year for Corning, who is post-60 and mainly utilizes casts of dancers post-40, filtering many of her performances through the collective umbrella called Corningworks. It was then that she made a powerful departure from a mostly analytical style to a decidedly emotional topic, the current migration crisis, in which she partnered with Doctors Without Borders. Called THE TIPPING POINT what would it take for YOU to leave home, it immersed audience members in a journey of their own, capped with tidal waves of movement.

Corning’s latest work, the fisherman, the butterfly, eve & her lover — A PARABLE, offered immersion of a different sort. Now we realize that parables are mainly Biblical. However, I recently saw a modern day operatic version of Parable of the Sower at Point Park University. And most of us are familiar with The Prodigal Son and The Good Samaritan, both stories with a spiritual and/or moral lesson.

Corning’s parable took place in the intimate confines of the Lillie Theatre, part of the City Theatre complex on Pittsburgh’s South Side. It was primarily a beach setting. I was reminded of the post-apocalyptic World War III (and very sad) movie, On the Beach. (Doesn’t it seem that we are continually on the brink?) Somehow Corning trucked in 3.5 tons of sand, which covered most of the available space. Two raised platforms provided other locales. The one to the left conveyed the modest living quarters of the fisherman, played by Nathan Keepers in the spirit of the deadpan silent film comic, Buster Keaton. To the right, we saw an overstuffed platform filled with Amazon boxes, faux tropical greenery and a handsome young man, Evan Fisk, who yearned to connect. He would soon be joined — in so many ways — by his paramour, Jillian Hollis.

That set up two of three stories. Keepers told poetic tales, a modern day allusion to Samuel Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner. The younger couple changed outfits several times, always green. Were they eco-friendly or did they just think that they were? They seemed bent on seduction or simply frolicking in a reel.

That led to the last puzzle piece, Corning’s butterfly, who emerged from a trash can. She resembled Mother Nature run amok — frizzy hair, a tiara adorned with tiny butterflies, a dress featuring plumper versions of the colorful insects, a petticoat make of dozens of plastic grocery bags and a voice worthy of Betty Boop.

Unlike On the Beach, you had to be ready to embrace the dark humor of our current water crisis in parable. It was a real tightrope (or plank), and this remarkable cast and crew negotiated it with expert aplomb.

Audience members were offered a sip of water, a sign of things to come. (It’s the reason I don’t complain when it rains in Pittsburgh, because some people are already feeling a lack of it.) 

Corning concurrently presented three differing angles on an issue that is gaining widespread importance.  Sometimes it resembled a low-key tennis match as I tried to maintain a connection with everything. For the main action took place at a normal speed of movement, while the other stories took on an unrushed Japanese style of butoh. And what about that little boat barely moving across the back wall?

I found the delightfully absurd parable to be one of Corning’s smartest and funniest takes on one of the most serious issues of our complicated times.Yes, the fisherman caught a fish, which spat sand instead of water. It was a hoot to watch Keepers talk to and walk(!) his pet mechanical fish, which performed with an ingratiating energy. And the performers pranced around sunflowers stuck in a styrofoam square. 

There was a lot more packed in this hour-long piece, which admittedly could stand a little editing. But it still swept me along with its unique play on life and I loved the vein of vulnerability amid the wry humor of this tantalizing cast. One thing was for certain. By the end, I was very thirsty.