BalletLabs' "Miracle"

I, too, was rather skeptical when I first viewed the trailer for “Miracle.” I don’t generally go for experimental art, not to mention I wasn’t sure if I could tolerate an hour of people screaming and writhing around on a stage, no matter how deep the meaning behind it.

Overall, I have to say I was pleasantly surprised, and was applauding in earnest by the time the dancers took a bow. “Miracle” was a riveting performance full of tension, emotion, and symbolism working together to convey the mysterious yet frightening aura surrounding modern cults, sometimes in highly abstract ways. I found myself scribbling notes over the cover of my program booklet, so that I wouldn’t forget some of the more striking details. In the end, though, for the true experience you must see it in person for yourself, as no amount of writing will be able to convey the emotion of the dancers, or the power of the sound design.

The first act of “Miracle” had the four dancers dressed in differently-colored robes faintly reminiscent of those worn by the Romans. (Perhaps a reference to pagan beliefs?) The minimalist stage, containing nothing more than a pair of stage lights, slowly lit up to reveal the dancers standing in the back corner, perfectly silent with a look of peaceful contemplation on their faces. For a couple of minutes, at least, they stood this way without a single sound. Then all of a sudden, they launched into the hysterical shrieking that must have earned the performance its “loud moments” warning in the booklet, backed up by discordant, shrill music. It was actually physically uncomfortable, especially in its louder portions, but I say that not as a complaint, but as a compliment, as it meant the performance was successful at evoking the feverish euphoria it was trying to convey.

Of the three acts, the first had the least actual ballet “dancing”, at least in the form we’re used to—for the most part, the dancers just run wildly about the stage (albeit in noticeably coordinated patterns) and drag each other around. At one point, one of the female dancers screamed in agony, thrashing about on her back, as one of the male dancers repeatedly yelled “SHUT THE F**K UP!” at her. Earlier, another dancer completely lost it, kicking and screaming, while the others stifled his yells by lying on top of his struggling body. What was particularly praise-worthy was how fluidly the dancers went from moving in spiritual unity to harshly abusing one of their number, and how the chaotic, discordant soundtrack blended smoothly with moments of harmonious, hymn-like singing and violins. The dancers smoothly shifted between roles, one moment playing an oppressor, the other a victim.

The second act had much more overt imagery, and was obviously the part most inspired by the Jonestown massacre mentioned in the booklet. Instead of robes, the dancers wore more contemporary clothing, signifying they were portraying more recent cult activity. The use of megaphones was particularly important, as was the large speaker dangling from the ceiling. These elements represented the brainwashing and propagandizing often done in extremist evangelical cults. Indeed, this act’s sound was dominated by the continuous, overlapping loops of stifled, indistinct speech issuing from both the speakers and the dancers themselves, through the megaphones.

This was accompanied by choreography which was clearly informed by the atmosphere of evangelical gatherings. The dancers jumped up and down with their hands raised high and enraptured faces. They took cloth bundles--obviously meant to symbolize holy objects—and handled them with veneration and care. There were also more traditional dance segments, during which the dancers intertwined, embraced, clasped hands, and leaned on each other with incredible grace and fluidity, possibly representing the unity and interdependence of the cult.

One of the most striking parts of this act was the segment in which one of the female dancers ran away from the others, frantic and scared, as they berated her through the megaphones, ending only when the woman collapsed in exhaustion. This was a fantastic representation of the way in which cults use shame and blackmail to prevent members from leaving.

The heavy symbolism and the way it was artfully incorporated into the dance sequences was my favorite part of this act, and the show as a whole. If you were only allowed to view one act from this performance for whatever reason, I would not hesitate to recommend the second for its power, raw emotion, and familiarity.

The third act was the most abstract of the three, and also the act with the most “traditional” ballet. Instruments had a large focus in this act, harmonicas in particular. The dancers would perform expressive ballet while screeching from harmonicas. It was no less riveting than the rest of the performance—the choreography was particularly beautiful—but unlike its companion acts, I found it difficult to get a grasp of what it was trying to get across. Even the description in the booklet didn’t help.

The performance ended with a marvelous and entirely unexpected visual illusion which made the two dancers appear as if they were levitating off the stage. The dancers were dressed in robes reminiscent of those worn by Asian monks, and were loudly whispering some sort of mantra, which helped enhance the tranquil atmosphere. After viewing a performance mostly dominated by frantic screaming and hysterical movements, the contrast of such a peaceful, mystical scene was particularly striking.

“Miracle” was an incredible event and highly recommended, especially if you find yourself horrifically fascinated by cults and religious extremism, as I am. Even if you aren’t, the symbolism is so well-crafted that it’s easy for anyone to appreciate. However, definitely heed the warning in the booklet if loud/shrill noises tend to upset you, as this performance thrives on dissonant, aurally jarring music and sound effects. I concur with my classmate in that bringing earplugs may be a wise decision.