Movement theater shines with symbolism

Music, movement and acting become modes of exploration for playwright Meg Anderson in "Waves." The Bloomington writer, director, co-producer and actor explores transformation, time and rebirth in her show, which opened Friday at the John Waldron Arts Center. \nThe show centers around Jill, played by Carrie Owen, a young woman in a café who shares the story of her vision quest with a waitress played by Phoebe Spiers. As she shares her vision, dancers re-create her experience. By recalling the incidents of her vision quest, Jill becomes more cognizant of how her past influences her present, and the power of her story transforms both herself and the waitress.\n"Waves" is divided into three locales: a café stage right, representing the present; a hut stage left, an important location in Jill's vision quest; and between these stages lies an empty center where most of the show's movement takes place.\nBecause of this divided set design and because of the show's episodic nature, "Waves" relied on its design elements to keep the show connected.\nDustin Odle's sound design was heavy on layers and atmosphere. The pre-show's subdued techno prepares the audience for the abstract dream world and lavish music, everything from lush to tribal, keeps the audience in that world. Sound effects bridged scenes, such as the sound of water pouring into a café glass becoming water pouring into the shaman's, played by Kevin Kennedy, ceremony bowl.\nThe sound worked well with the lighting and costuming to bridge the shifting of scenes as well as reinforce the themes Anderson explores. The soft lighting added dimension to junior Caroline Philbrick's costume designs. Philbrick's use of wraps, layers and sometimes gauzy material suggested there was more beneath the surface, just as the stationary present of the café is only a thin layer covering Jill's deep, turbulent past.\nChoreographer Sarah Wilkins, a sophomore majoring in dance performance and English, did an excellent job capturing the show's emotional range. The dancers embody many polarities, making their movements captivating to watch. To watch Jill chase a butterfly and then smear its wings on her face in an attempt to be beautiful, or to watch her repeatedly move toward her demons and then recoil from them, is to witness fragility and strength, courage and fear, longing and resentment existing all at once.\nThe movement was not always easy to follow. Some of the scenes, such as three dancers moving on a pitch black stage with only candlelight in their hands, lost their beauty because they were not sufficiently connected to the other parts of the play. \n"Waves" also needed better establishment toward the beginning. The opening scene of dancers moving across the stage like waves was engaging, but the following scene in the café was caught between expressiveness and reality. \nIt's when the café finally sheds its emblance of reality that the show gains considerable thrust. Conversations in the café become slow-motioned, or, in one of "Waves" best scenes, they become silent. During this silence, Jill is haunted by three demons (wearing superb masks designed by Ian Martin).\nDespite any production flaws, "Waves" is gorgeous and brittle. It is unlike theater offered anywhere. Its symbolic content, brevity and embrace of silence make "Waves" something like Japanese Noh theater, where the goal is to bring the audience to a contemplative state. To develop a piece of theater as unique and engaging as this makes it deserving of being seen. \n"Waves" continues at 8 p.m. Thursday through Saturday at the John Waldron Arts Center.\nTickets are $12 for general public and $10 for students.