And why

I'm still so overwhelmed by Lauren Weedman's "Off" as to feel unfit for writing. (I think the prior capital letters were a formatting decision, not the artist's?) She portrays twenty-plus characters with conviction enough to suspend my disbelief for me. Director Jeff Weatherford, who deserves just as much awe and applause as Weedman, has her perform in everything from a tattoo parlour to a home "like an Italian villa" with his lighting, and the duo create a range of scenes tied powerfully to a theme I'd rather not spoil for you. Add to this Weedman's interstitial dancing, the animalistic lunges and shouts of an angry and agonized female creature, and "OFF" becomes a complete piece of theater.

Although the explicit second piece, "P.I.G.," made me decide against sending my friend's small-town parents to the Saturday production, it was also pretty remarkable. Zackary Drucker, Mariana Marroquin, and Wu Ingrid Tsang performed in front of Rhys Ernst's video work, engaging group and private therapy techniques and language to dizzy one's perception of gender and gender politics. The layers of media and the incredible styling work of Math Bass, Marco Prado, and Nicolau Vergueiro created a powerful environment for fresh thoughts.

Meg Wolfe's "Watch Her (Not Know It Now)" took a different direction, and perhaps the concert order can be blamed for my frustrations with it. After two piece that made me forget what I thought and where I was, Wolfe's minimalist exploration of the stage space and the body joints brought me back to the REDCAT venue and the usual dance crowd and co., the easily traced legacy of post-modern moving bodies. It wasn't bad work--not at all!--but it certainly took a back seat to "Off" and to "P.I.G." I hope to re-attempt a Wolfe experience in some other setting.

Again I say that even if I did avoid laying down a few dollars for some fresh art these past two weekends, I'm glad I bit the bullet and did so for this one. REDCAT. NOW. I love Los Angeles...


LADB