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Where Go Our Feet
Performed by CityStep
Choreographed and directed by Diane Paulus, Celia Savitz and Rebecca Shannon
At the Loeb Mainstage
Through this weekend
CITYSTEP'S Where Go Our Feet is a lot like your little sister's dance recital. No matter what happens onstage, you've got to be proud of the performers. And like your sister's recital, you're hard pressed to assess the show critically.
Fortunately, CityStep's fifth anniversary performance would--for the most part--stand up to a tough critic. The stars are energetic fifth, sixth and seventh graders who aren't capable of disappointing an expectant audience. The choreography and staging could be better in places, but would you tell that to your little sister? And do you care?
As in many dance recitals, there is a patchwork plot tying the dances together. The show follows six children around after school: one runs away from her fighting parents, one strikes out in Little League, one (now, we must make some concessions to this storyline) is harassed by chunks of a brick wall that turn into living beings after she has shined their shapes onto the wall with an overhead projector, two are frightened away by a store with dancing groceries, and one is drawn into the events of a movie he is watching. Naturally, the six dejected children band together and by the end of the second act everyone is happy again.
The most remarkable thing the CityStep teachers have done in seven months of rehearsal is to calm the stage inhibitions of 100 grade-schoolers. There are rare instances of dancers giggling, counting to themselves or looking to see what everyone else is doing. Overall, the young company is sharp and synchronized, hits freezes well and camouflages its mistakes.
This training couldn't have been easy. "It's scary" to be onstage, said Cinthia Germain, one of the stars. "They make you sweat when you rehearse."
"I messed up," said Trieu Tran, a sixth-grader with a great deal of stage presence. "It's just fun. That's all. We like it and it's tiring. Everything I said better be in the newspaper."
It is tempting to think that the students are capable of slightly more intricate choreography. Sequences where there is prolonged marching, skipping or clapping activity stand out as soft spots in the performance. But then, if it was your sister, you'd tell her she was the best skipper ever.
The sets are excellent, whether they be the jungle behind the movie screen or the moving grocery shelves. Costumes are also impressive and range from two outfitted baseball teams to the dancing pieces of brick wall. The music, written by Harvard undergraduate composers, works well.
Unlike your sister's recital, Where Go Our Feet is one show your parents won't force you to attend. But you should anyway.
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