'MIKE:' An unflattering labor of manual labor

Dana Michel performed her three-hour solo "MIKE" on Friday night at EMPAC in Troy.

There are a couple of rules in dance that are indisputable -- every dance is too long and solos are even longer. Basically, time, along with space and some decent movement and conceptual ideas, is everything in dance.
 
Thus it was with some trepidation, mainly fear of boredom, that I ventured out to the Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center at Rensselaer on Friday evening. There, Canadian dancer and choreographer Dana Michel was offering the New York premiere of “MIKE,” a three-hour long solo – a feat that is basically unheard of in the dance world.
 
But time is the thing in “MIKE.” And while solos are typically framed by a stage, Michel kept our attention and curiosity peaked by trailing her solo into every nook of EMPAC’s theater – the corners, elevators, bathrooms, staircases, outdoor patios and hallways. The audience, provided with chairs and blankets, tried to follow her trajectory. Even with designated guides placed on three floors, it seems at times impossible with audiences’ members, including me, asking “where is she now?”
 
While the everyone tries to keep up, Michel is revealing her intent – to explore what eats up most of our daily hours – working. And her character is one that labors manually – moving mechanically while two small cases streamed music and sounds, from Beethoven’s “Fleur de Lis” at the start to eerie grunts, pants and groans at the end.
 
Dressed in white floppy socks and a brown suit, with pockets on her vest to carry all of her tools, she appears like a UPS worker – one who is unenthusiastic but gets the job done. She begins her hours long, laborious journey by kicking around her case and two phones while brushing her teeth. She’s getting ready for the day that will include sticking her head under water in the bathroom sink, visiting the water cooler and wrapping and taping a wad of paper and an office chair in brown shipping paper. All this is accented by an occasional, and reserved two-step.
 
Michel’s partner is the work that she appears to take no pleasure in. At times her work/dance seems so strenuous that audience members have to hold themselves back from helping. But the third wall holds up even though the audience is often an arm’s length away.
 
As Michel is in the public spaces of the theater, bystanders often play a part. A jogger runs between the dancer and audience and children skip along behind her making it seem like real life, not theater.
 
“MIKE” also requires Michel to improvise as these real people – like those in the audience – take up chairs she uses as props or they stand in the way of her path forward. She does that seamlessly.
 
Michel’s biggest problem is the ending. I like that she ultimately shipped herself off in a box, symbolizing she is trapped inside the work life. But no one could tell it was over. She finally had to pop her head out of the box, ask the time, just like a real worker might, and tell the audience that was all she was going to do. Maybe it was purposeful, but I don’t think so.
 
One detail that I’m sure most missed – she addresses her wadded ball of paper and office chair to Scotia McLeod – a wealth management firm — a clear sign her labor benefits someone other than herself -- a depressing, but real postscript of our times.

"MIKE" will be repeated at 2 p.m. Saturday, Oct. 5, at EMPAC in Troy.