41. FUERZA
BRUTA: WAYRA
FUERZA BRUTA means “brute force,”
which is a pretty good way of describing the nonstop energy of this show’s
no-holds barred assault on an audience’s ocular and aural receptors. This
Argentinean explosion of immersive theatre, created by Diqui James, which has
been performed in many international venues, is back at the Daryl Roth Theatre,
where an earlier incarnation enjoyed a run from 2007 to earlier this year. The new production is
called WAYRA, which means “wind” in Quechua, certainly a suitable word for a
show whose effects depend to such a great degree on powerful wind machines.
Critics who’ve seen it before note that much of what they saw in its most
recent incarnation as FUERZA BRUTA is being
repeated; since I never saw the show before it was all new and, technically, at
any rate, memorably impressive.
FUERZA BRUTA. Photo: Jacob Cohl.
Content-wise, WAYRA might be
considered a demonstration of sheer technological wizardry devoid of
characters, plot, or any semblance of story, with occasional flashes of
potential drama that ultimately blend into the relentless display of lights,
acrobatics, flying, head-pounding taped and live music, and treadmill running, with the audience on its feet throughout in a large, high, dark, open, and fog-filled
space. When the show begins, we see a man in white walking and running on a
treadmill, being passed by others who slide by him only to fall backward into
an invisible trashcan, as others take their place. Plastic tables and chairs
also rush by to meet the same fate, as do large framed portals filled with
paper, Styrofoam, and cardboard, through which the man on the treadmill
smashes, sending shards everywhere. At one point, he’s shot (BANG!) and
collapses, his shirt all bloody. Not to worry, as he’s soon up and running
again. Meanwhile, a group of fiery percussionists on a raised stage at one side
begin banging away and singing (music by Gary Kerpel) in what sounds like Spanish but--because the words are mostly drowned out by the noise--could as easily be a made-up language like what you hear at CIRQUE DU SOLEIL.
Soon, a pair of female aerialists start flying above us,
hanging sideways as they race around and bounce off a huge, Mylar-like curtain
that slowly surrounds the audience. It’s hard to tell if they’re happy or
angry, but they’re definitely not placid. This hyper-expressivity runs
throughout the show.
FUERZA BRUTA. Photo: Jacob Cohl.
In another feature, clearly the most
spectacular, a transparent pool slides into place over
the audience and, as water rushes into it, cast members go dashing, crashing,
careening, sliding across, and banging their
fists on it. You stand there, craning your neck (as during so much of
this aerially-oriented show) to watch these activities directly overhead,
wondering about the safety of having a large pool made of some Lucite-like
material filled with water and half a dozen performers suspended over a couple
of hundred spectators. Then the pool descends slowly so you’re able to actually
raise your hands and touch it, reaching out to the performers, who touch back
(albeit with the plastic between them and you), all the while noting how the
lighting keeps changing the colors of the water and actors’ bodies.
FUERZA BRUTA: WAYRA. Photo: Jacob Cohl.
The audience often has to move to
make way for the technical equipment, such as when a giant disk-like sheet of
silver-coated fabric is pushed to the center of the space. Suspended
horizontally on either side are a man and woman who do a frantic sequence of
movements as they attempt (or seem to attempt) to get to the other side of the
disk, whose orientation shifts frequently. As with all the other performances
in WAYRA, they display admirable acrobatic agility and skill, but a serious nod
of respect also must be given to the hardworking technical crew whose efforts
at controlling the movements of the disk and aerial wires are quite visible
during this routine.
FUERZA BRUTA. Photo: Jacob Cohl.
In another remarkable number, you
help move a heavy clear plastic sheet, crisscrossed with white tape across the
space over your head, only for a wind machine to blow the plastic higher and
higher until it forms a gigantic dome. You’re essentially inside
a balloon, and a male and female aerialist (joined later by another man) do a
sequence of movements on the outside surface, also flying in through large
holes whose covers they remove. A willing audience member even gets hooked up
to the apparatus and, legs locked around the female performer, flies off into
the upper reaches of the space before returning safely to terra firma. Then a
large tube is joined from the wind machine to one of the holes in the surface
of the inflated plastic, and the male performer does various acrobatic things
while suspended in this wind tunnel, as bits of paper swirl all around him
(there’s a lot of confetti to clean up when the show is over).
FUERZA BRUTA: WAYRA. Photo: Jacob Cohl.
As the lights continue changing
or strobe-flashing, the music blasting with a hypnotic beat, the audience
dancing and moving about as they clap or wave their hands overhead, and
performers even dancing with you, you feel as if you’re in some postmodern rave,
but even as you enjoy yourself, it’s hard not to worry about your safety or
even about how people manage in such close, confined quarters (don’t go if you’re
claustrophobic) to maintain their personal space and respect that of others.
The show could easily be dismissed as mindless sensationalism, but it’s hard to
ignore the input of some rather clever and ingenious minds in conceiving and
putting it all together so seamlessly.
At the conclusion, a shower
spigot opens above and those at the center of
the space get soaked. Amazingly, the mostly young audience under the
sprinkler stayed right where it was. In fact, my theatre companion, a woman in
her mid-30s, raced right to the water to participate in this joyful ritual. She
emerged soaked but happy, but after 70 minutes of standing and stretching my
neck upward, this septuagenarian has to admit he was glad to still be dry as he
hastened out into the warm summer air at Union Square.