It was a bright, clear Sunday afternoon. A teaser of a show—barely an hour long—but it was free, the atmosphere was festive, and the dancing exhilarating. Accumulation (1971) was like watching disco dancing in precisely synchronized slow motion.
Watermotor (1978) was engrossing, disturbing and funny all at once. It starts with a chorus line of women executing the same series of movements in synchronization. It goes on in perfect order until a guy grabs a woman and repositions her, as she continues with her routine. Then another guy repositions another woman. And so on. And the guys kept putting the women into positions that complicated their routines. They get knotted up, their legs and arms in each other’s way. It was satirical (this is real life) and exciting (where is he going to put her next?) and sweet (the dancers would crack up).
Dance as alertness, discipline and fun. I was still humming with the reverberations when, a week later, the news came that, Brown was gone.