Review: Delightful and perplexing, Kit Modus’ ‘Mixed Rep’ is a mixed bag

Kit Modus’ 10th season opener Mixed Rep delivers on its title. At an early rehearsal of the show, which will be staged November 7 and 8 at Vesper Theatre in East Point, the contemporary dance company presented five compositions by five choreographers, four of which are current or former Kit Modus dancers. No two pieces in the evening-length rehearsal could be misconstrued as the same, yet they were about as different from one another as jelly beans. And much like a variety bag of the soft candy, some flavors were quite delightful, while others were perplexing.

The program begins rapturously with The Portal is Always Open, guest choreographed by Marco Palomino. It is not long after the seven dancers enter the room that they invite guests to join them. Dancers offer up painted masks and guide visitors to a side of the stage where we they are instructed to wait and watch. Set to upbeat music, the dancers mirror and answer each other’s movements, demonstrating constant call and response from within the group. Their communication expands as the dancers separate from the group to whisper secrets in one another’s ears before rejoining the ensemble. These shenanigans don’t stay secrets from the guests. Many times, the peregrine conversations include the attendant audience members as the dancers express audible compliments, such as “Aren’t they amazing?” The dancers constantly encourage visiting attendees to move their own bodies, then lead them to new stage locations, making the show a roving experience. Constantly carried and included, each audience member feels as if they are the new person at the most convivial house party ever — though no one knows anyone at the party, there’s no question of belonging. The piece ends with audience members gathered at center stage, dancing, while the ensemble rings around them, overjoyed that they are there. Genuinely, the most fun I’ve ever had; I was so disappointed it ended.

Cacophony, choreographed by current Kit Modus dancer Noa Christine, is a brief, intense solo. Beginning without preamble, the lone dancer enters swiftly and launches into serried sequences. The choreography follows natural body movements, ensuring there is fluidity, but the rapid pacing precludes any possibility of lyricism. What pauses do exist are commas rather than periods or line breaks, as the dancer briefly slows mid-movement, elongating a moment. In a visual sense, it feels similar to a winded person speaking as fast as they can, pausing only to gasp for air. The piece embodies its title. But beyond this successful congruence of choreography and idea, the piece lacks purpose, providing no nuanced examination of “cacophony” or experimentation with dance as an art form, for example. Concise and performed alone, it approximates to a visual palate cleanser.

Choreographed by Lili Robbins, another current Kit Modus dancer, Proximal Distaste opens on four dancers in repose, lined parallel with the audience, their heads resting on the stomach of the dancer behind them. When the music begins — a high-pitched drone — the dancers clasp the head before them and collectively rise to a sitting position. The far-left dancer moves first, gyrating at the hip in a large circle, towing their palm on the floor behind them. On the next revolution, the other dancers follow suit, each slightly delayed so the movement cascades down the line. Soon after, the far-right dancer rolls onto all fours, the dancer behind them removes an article of clothing which the far-right dancer uses as a head and arm rest. They then fully extend their legs, tenting their body, and slowly plow forward. Mirroring, echoing and contortion are motifs; so frequently the dancers move in distorted and squinched positions, bone straining against skin. They appear more skeletal than fleshy, calling to mind the supersensible performances of FKA Twigs and the emaciated figure paintings of Egon Schiele. Tingling with grotesque allure, this piece could individually constitute an entire program.

Dis-association, choreographed by Jacob Attaway, another current Kit Modus dancer, prominently uses two LED-lighted hoops which regularly change color and strobe. Featuring two female and one male dancer, the piece begins with the two female dancers moving to center stage, planting their hoops arm’s width apart and stepping inside them. Containing their movements within the confines of the hoop, they resemble go-go dancers preparing for the male dancer’s upcoming entrance. While an amusing callback, this frames the female dancers throughout the piece as props to support the male dancer. In one moment, the two female dancers are on their knees, facing one another, holding the hoops vertically between themselves — mimicking saloon-style doors which the male dancer pushes through to perform a runway catwalk. Here, the female dancers are used interchangeably with a door frame. In another, the female dancers are once again on their knees, arm’s width apart, facing the audience, holding the hoops over their heads. Behind them, the male dancer uses the left dancer as a turntable, which he scratches and spins, and the right as a hand drum, which he pounds. Here, the female dancers are used interchangeably with equipment and instruments. There are some moments the female dancers interact independently, but they are smothered by their constant subjugation to the male dancer. In this staging, the choreographer is the male dancer, causing it to read as an egotistical self-indulgence at the expense of two women. Considering the title, what is being “dissed”? Right now, the answer seems to be women.

The evening concludes with selections from Die Körper, a multi-act performance choreographed by Kit Modus founder Jillian Mitchell. Dim lighting, low-register, minor-key, ambient music, mid-century, Western, medical attire, a typewriter, red ecclesiastical vestments, an electronic fireplace and multiple dancers in black morph suits give the piece a pervading, albeit chronologically confounding, dreadfulness. While the performance focuses on the identifiable characters, the black-clad dancers propel the narrative. Through them, characters perform impossible acts — such as levitating, flying, unconscious movement, gradual falls and scene changes — but they are not simply stagehands, as they regularly interfere, acknowledge and exchange with the characters, a kind of anonymous, fickle poltergeist. While Kit Modus is a dance group, Die Körper makes plain it has no intention to stay within easily defined categories. Mixed Rep in its entirety echoes this message. It is an aspirational and instructive sentiment as Kit Modus enters its second decade as a contemporary company.

Mixed Rep will be staged November 7 and November 8 at Vesper Theatre, 2823 Church St, East Point, $25. Purchase tickets online here.

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Leia Genis is a trans artist and writer currently based in Atlanta. Her writing has been published in Hyperallergic, Frieze, Burnaway, Art Papers and Number: Inc. magazine. Genis is a graduate of the Savannah College of Art and Design and is also an avid cyclist with a competition history at the national level.