Troupe lets the audience in on the act

July 03, 2007|Karen Campbell, Globe Correspondent

Monkey see, monkey do. The flamboyant, engaging dancers of Monkeyhouse have never been content to do all the work; they want the audience to get in on the act as well. You may not actually have to hoof it, but part of the gestalt of any Monkeyhouse production is getting the audience in on the creative process.

For the company's latest show, "And, What do YOU Want?" the experience starts the moment you enter the building. A bevy of ladies in orange wigs (a company trademark) urge patrons to don name tags and vote for which dance they'd most like to see performed that evening. That you have no idea whether "Knosp" or "Drouken" is more to your taste only adds to the element of surprise. Off to the side, a smarmy character in an appalling running suit and sunglasses, looking like a cross between Elvis and Mark Morris (he's actually new member Jason Ries ), collects verbs from audience members in the lobby for an upcoming improvisation.

At the theater entrance, Monkeyhouse artistic director Karen Krolak in "electric lemon" gown and marabou-feathered hat asks each audience member, "And, what do YOU want?" She's dressed as one of Monkeyhouse's most charming ongoing characters, the eclectic Princess Pamplemousse , the Missionary of Modern Dance, whose theatrical improvisations try to help demystify the art form. She introduces the show as "a concert of choices, influences, and consequences," setting us up for a variety of pieces in which we, the audience, make a difference.

In the opening "Omikuji," those solicited verbs come into play as Ries reads some aloud and Nicole Harris transforms them into movement. For several other pieces, inspirations are credited. "Drouken," which beat out "Knosp" in the audience vote Friday night, was inspired by "a box of Mylar curtains," from which Krolak devised an umbrella with streamers that moves with the fluid swirl of a jellyfish, twinkling and changing colors in the light as Harris spins and dips. "Doattee," allegedly improved by five years of audience feedback, is a strange little trio fueled by scratchy rhythmic sawing of the string ensemble Ethel that seemed to put Krolak and Harris in thrall to Ries 's Svengali-like figure.

Overall, it's refreshingly engaging and playfully irreverent (qualities which apparently have garnered the group an avid cult following here and in other cities ). It's a little too much theater and not enough substantive dancing for this viewer, but two pieces stand out. Krolak's clever, imaginative "Pelargic" casts her as a pink-wigged and tutu-ed entrant in a flamingo dancing competition with hilarious voice-over commentary. One leg elongated by a stilt affords the work some striking imagery, but Krolak never fully investigates the visceral possibilities the off-kilter balance offers.

The most impressive piece is the most serious: Harris's untitled premiere set to her provocative taped monologue about self-perception and reinvention. It begins with slow introspective curls, stretches, and rolls and escalates to gorgeous sweeping turns. The final repeated port de bras looks as if she is ready to embrace the world.

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