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By Christine Jowers/Follow @cmmjowers on Instagram
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Published on April 21, 2025
Cast of "Echoes of Absurdity." Photo: Dylan Baker
After the Applause
Choreography and performance by Amber Sloan // Costume by Amber Sloan
Lighting design by Cameron Barnett // Sound collage by Amber Sloan
Music: “The Beatitudes” by Vladimir Martynov plus soundscore featuring work by Frank Sinatra, Pauline Oliveros, The Beatles, Eric Lyon, Hildur Guðnadóttir, and Club Nostalgia
Echoes of Absurdity
Choreography by Amber Sloan // Performance by Shawn Brush, Chelsea Enjer Hecht, Ching-I Chang, and Jordan Morley // Costume design by Meagan Woods // Lighting design by Cameron Barnett
Music: “String Quartet, No.1: I. Intrada” by Peteris Vasks, Spikeru String Quartet; “She is Asleep II. Duet for Voice and Prepared Piano” by John Cage; “Longing for a Frozen Sky” and “Mura/Ballu Turturinu” by Ernst Reijseger, “The Unquestioned Answer” by Laurie Siegel; “The Four Quarters: II. Serenade –Morning Dew” by Thomas Ades; “Artificial Life 2007” by George Lewis
March 29, 2025
Amber Sloane, a choreographer of fertile whimsy and wit, draws us into the universes of her perfectly peculiar characters, creating awe and delight.
In her solo, After the Applause, Sloan rises from a plain black chair and slowly steps toward us, an open palm shielding her face from the blinding lights of the stage. Barefoot and bare-legged, dressed in navy shorts and a white, flouncy blouse topped by a giant bow that practically swallows her neck, she looks a bit like a contemporary, feminine Pierrot. And like a clown with many masks, her personality shifts mercurially.
Traveling on her knees, she reaches outward, pleading for attention from an imaginary audience; then, in a more confident moment, she blows profuse kisses and performs multiple curtseys for us and her other “invisible” adoring fans. After a spasm of boisterous spins, multi-directional runs, and kicks at the air, our entertainer triumphantly grasps a high-lifted leg with one hand, as if showing off a trophy. Ta-da!
But her victory is short-lived, and the spell breaks when Sloan collapses into a rolling ball (only to get up again, feet on the floor, bum in the air, head peering from between her legs with a sly smile). Despite the comedic and hammy nature of this “entertaining” character, moments of resignation and breakdown interspersed within her antics reveal a poignant vulnerability.
As we attempt to discern exactly who this beguiling, wacky creature is, we sense that she is also, right here at this moment, figuring it out for herself. Sloane, not only a gifted maker of dances but also a captivating performer, dances her carefully constructed work as if her actions are being made up on the spot.
The second half of Sloan’s solo involves a conversation and battle with her chair. Hilarious imagery abounds. One movement in particular — when Sloane holds the chair stuck to her bottom as she cavorts (as best she can) around the room — strikes me as a comedic take on “having a monkey on one’s back.” Who wins the battle? I won’t give it away.
Being in the audience is a treat when a choreographer and her collaborators are so in sync. Shawn Brush, Chelsea Enjer Hecht, Ching-I Chang, and Jordan Morley are the perfect match to Sloan’s inquisitive explorations. These fully-committed, full-hearted dancers dive into every moment of Echoes of Absurdity with abandon, and like Sloan in her opening solo, their dancing is always fresh and surprising. So too throughout the evening are Cameron Barnett’s lighting, the musical arrangements made by Sloan herself, and Meagan Wood’s costumes, which catch our eyes with their shimmer and flow.
While After the Applause deals with one person's journey, Echoes of Absurdity concerns the revelations and discoveries of four beings, apparently from another planet, who have yet to understand who they are, where they are, and how they should relate to one another.
The piece opens with three figures posed frozen on the floor, appearing as if they’ve been dropped through the ceiling of the Kestrels' studio theater by their mothership. Morley, lies stiffly on his side, a plank facing the audience on an angle; Brush, legs hanging bent in the air, suspended in motion before being able to execute a complete shoulder stand; and Enjer Hecht ’s belly is glued to the ground, her arms, legs and head suspended up and away from it. Though she lies on her front, she looks like a turtle that has been overturned and stuck on its shell. The other creature, Chang, enters through one of the two doors on the backstage wall of the studio theater. Of course she doesn’t turn the knob, she is an alien unfamiliar with such things, so she emerges clinging to the top and side of the door (for dear life) as it gradually creaks open.
Exuberantly, with open and rigorous imaginations, Sloan and company take the shapes introduced to us in Echoes’ opening segment and turn them inside out, exploring their every possibility for wonder and humor. How would one partner a plank, take it in the air, or move it if it were stuck to a wall? How would any of those shapes jump from the floor, travel, balance, or exit through a door? The multiple interactions, combinations, and permutations are indeed beautiful and weird, also sensitive, marvelous, and refreshing.
