IMPRESSIONS: Faye Driscoll’s "You’re Me" at The Kitchen

 

 

Faye Driscoll owns me. She owns anyone who has seen her work; anyone who has ever heard of Young Jean Lee; anyone who’s ever stepped foot in New York Live Arts; anyone in the Bay Area; anyone who’s ever said dance should not be funny; probably anyone who’s sported a wig and feather boa in public; and she definitely owns anyone who thought dance was dead. Driscoll reminds us of this in her newest work, You’re Me, which had a two-week run at the Kitchen April 12-21.

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Faye Driscoll and Jesse Zaritt, Photo Paula Court

In her evening-length duet performed with the equally zany and dynamic Jesse Zaritt, Driscoll sets up a world where anything goes, as long as she gets to call the shots. And, these shots involve everything, from spray paint fights, to marble spitting, to emptying and re-emptying the most extravagant costume drawer you’ve ever seen.

 

Driscoll knows how to make a dance. Her movement is rooted in a post-modern vocabulary and made increasingly more exciting by the dramatic facial expressions that accompany her gestural language. Sexually suggestive movements -pelvic thrusts, inner thigh rubbing, nipple grabs - morph out of provocative seaminess, into the world of slapstick as Driscoll and Zaritt’s facial expressions take the forefront. Eyes repeatedly bug out, lips smack and deadpan expressions are a consistent source of unassuming absurdity.

 

A memorable passage finds Zaritt grasping onto Driscoll’s shoulders from behind, as he hops his right leg up to meet his left. He leads Driscoll in a stilted walk around herself and comes off as a dorky animal, pining after her affection. His role as her submissive suitor continues for most of the work.

 

Faye Driscoll and Jesse Zaritt, Photo Paula Court

Hare-brained motifs disappear and resurface, especially in a highly climactic moment when Driscoll, standing center-stage on top of dresser drawers with Zaritt below her, furiously hands him random costume pieces. Mounds of beaded necklaces are followed by faux facial hair, baseball caps and scarves. Velvet capes abound! Again, Driscoll maintains all the control, as she frenetically puts on and takes off each item Zaritt hands her.Zaritt readily obliges.

 

By the end of the evening, we have endured a spray paint battle, a faux knife fight, and a feather explosion, yet, in this nutty, surrealist world, there is still room for more of Driscoll. We hope Faye Driscoll’s adventurous acts of Dance Theater will continue to bowl over the arts community for a long time to come. She does own us after all.

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Faye Driscoll and Jesse Zaritt, Photo Paula Court