You don't have to be a rocket scientist to see producer Robert Haugh's aim to push the modern dance envelope. Haugh's kinetic and high energy, “Troopslam” a work that opened last Saturday in Santa Clara, explores the relationship of dance and the American psyche through the metaphor of professional wrestling.

 

In an imaginative departure from the customary theater setting, Haugh's multi-media work was performed at the VFW Hall, with wrestling's "squared circle" providing the dance milieu.

 

Titling himself 'promoter' rather than choreographer, Haugh advanced the metaphor in the program calling the dances "matches," and giving the dancers noms de guerre like "El Chupacabra," "Italian Superman," and "Kryptonite." With the exception of "Kristina," dancing the role of a referee and Tiffany, valet for Vennis deMarco’s “Mafia” stable, the entire cast was male, reflecting the Kabuki-like nature of the production. 

 

In a salute to Julian Beck's Living Theater, Haugh erased boundaries between the viewer and the performance by seating the audience on chairs surrounding the stage. Cast members were placed in the audience, where they interacted with on-stage performers through catcalls, boos and cheers. At times, the on-stage performance erupted into the audience.

 

In another break with classical dance tradition, the performers themselves created the work's choreography with minimal input from the producer, whose only direction was to tell them who was to be the "winner."

 

In "Kid Omega vs. Hotshot Hayashi," the two dancers begin by circling one another warily, the prelude to a series of intricately woven pas de deux of athleticism. In this swift kaleidoscope of groupings and geometries, one minute dancers are writhing, intertwined coils on the floor and the next they're making balletic leaps from the ring ropes.  In another moment they're hurling one another, judo-like, across the stage. The performance reached a bone-shattering crescendo at the end as the dancers recklessly hurled themselves at each other seconds before "the bell."

 

Ultimately, each of the seven pieces were indistinguishable from one another except for the number of dancers – sometimes two, sometimes four, the interchangeability of which gave the performance an air of déjà vu.

 

The costumes were colorful if redundant, and this reviewer can’t recommend spandex for middle-aged men. However, this is a small complaint when considering the energetic and compelling performance delivered by Troopslam's dancers. Haugh says that Troopslam II is in the works, and we look forward to seeing more from this innovative impresario.