A Waiting Game! Akram and company at city center!
A Bengali word meaning ‘carier,’ “bahok” is a cerebral piece of choreography by Akram Khan and Company. Khan asks us to recall being faced with the frustration of delayed or cancelled travel plans. Surely all of us at some time or another have waited in bleak railway stations or airport lounges helplessly watching an arrival/departure board, (usually suspended from the ceiling) click away the changes that affect our lives. Often these mechanical changes affect a rhythm that results in a sigh of disappointment or a rash of tears. The dancers portray lonely citizens disconnected from home, family, and loved ones, bonded together by endless waiting time. The incessant blinking callboard seems to add insult to injury, and ultimately captures the focus of “bahok.”
Two works “bahok” and “zero degrees” were presented in this mini-season and were set on a multinational ensemble of dancers, among them members of the National Ballet of China. The dancers have various personalities, and all are sublimely gifted, and committed to Khan’s personal choreographic intent. I missed seeing Khan, a vital and commanding performer, who danced only in “zero degrees.”
Kim Young Jin with machine
Photo by Sander Loonen
The City Center stage framed the 75-minute piece giving it a proper forlorn look. The vast space, a bunch of chairs, and the blinking sign comprised a striking setting. The travelers (in this case dancers) congregated in groups watching and listening for information, while playing out engaging vignettes between them. Contact between strangers is difficult in the best of circumstances. With language and emotional obstacles in the way it can be formidable. In one segment, a homesick young Korean man with little knowledge of English tries to communicate with the woman next to him. “He’s getting annoying,” she says. The standoff creates a poignant moment.
Incorporating African, Spanish, Korean, and Slovakian sounds and phrases woven together with a text written by Khan and his dancers, “bahok” is played out against a deft musical collage by Nitin Sawhney. Dramaturg Guy Cools has coached them with expertise although at times the words were unclear in the shuffle of chairs and bodies moving about. Just when one thought one dancer was just reading her text she would jump up and flip in the air; words would become secondary to her daring acrobatic feats. The mood of anxiety, however, was clearly drawn. Khan has blended styles ranging from classical ballet to hip-hop into seamless phrases and combinations. The dancers, dressed in ordinary but handsomely paired street clothes, pull off all these various dance styles with enormous agility.
The cell phone/camera plays a big role in this dance piece though many of them seem to not work properly. Perhaps this emphasis on technology is only because it is the means of connection to loved ones in an isolated world of train stations; or perhaps it is just plain cool to have that piece of metal glued to your ear as a source of comfort like a tranquilizer.
The ever-present callboard flipped the letters around but instead of lingering on a timetable, it would spell out elements like “air,” “fire,” “water,” “earth,” and “call home.” The connection between these words (each one could motivate an entire suite of dances) and the choreography seemed stretched and often too complex to be comprehended.
Growing up in London, Kahn’s background was Kathak, the Indian classical dance but his influences clearly show time spent in modern dance classes (perhaps Martha Graham), a fondness for Michael Jackson, and an understanding of classical ballet. Even ice-skating seems to have a place in “bahok” as one angular, long-limbed Asian male dancer startled the audience with Olympic style flashing turns while holding his leg straight up to his nose. I surely have seen that on silver blades.