Reggie Wilson’s ‘Moses(es)’ supposes(es) gloriously

The Dance Center of Columbia College Chicago closed its 40th season with powerful performances by Reggie Wilson and his Fist & Heel Performance Group. Wilson’s Moses(es) has been nearly three years in the making, beginning with presenting partners The Dance Center and The Joyce Foundation co-commissioning the work. It’s been an epic journey for Wilson to make the work, involving multiple residencies across the country and creative partnerships with dramaturge Susan Manning and Mathematician Jesse Wolfson. The piece is steeped in allegory, inspired primarily by Moses and the Jews' exodus from Egypt. The clever pluralization in its title acknowledges that Moses is a tale that permeates multiple cultures and religions. The husk of the Exodus story, and of Moses(es), is leading and following. The difference lies in the fact that there is no one clear leader, as with Moses. The dancers take turns in the roles of captain and skipper, performing repetitive flocking patterns and phrases, and using canon extensively to exhibit the domino effect in several splendid games of follow the leader.

The work is thick - outrageous and rousing at times, pensive and personal at others. The cherry red polka dotted costumes and massively dense lighting support the louder moments of the piece, and feel superfluous in the quieter ones. The eclectic ensemble performs beautifully together, yet each of its members is distinctly individual. Before the piece begins, each dancer walks on and introduces him/herself by name and years with the company. After retreating behind a built light-up proscenium upstage, each dancer model walks downstage one by one to showcase his/her best moves. It is especially during this section that we see Wilson allows the dancers to be “human” onstage - wiping sweat, shifting the weight back and forth, adjusting costume pieces - before once again walking the runway to downstage. Anna Schon, one of only two women in the work, is a tiny sprite amongst a sea of very tall men, though her presence is as big as her dance partners. The other woman is Rhetta Aleong, a member of the company since 1991 who’s presence onstage is intoxicating. Aleong, with Wilson and Lawrence A.W. Harding, are the veterans in the cast, often assuming supporting roles singing and performing in pairings outside the main cast. Perhaps this is partly on account of physical limitations, however the trio is positioned to appear as elder statesmen - sometimes observing, other times directing the action onstage.

Some of the most compelling moments are the simpler, more personal ones, as when Wilson (dressed differently from the ensemble with a white jumpsuit and bright red Converse sneakers) uses the entirety of Louis Armstrong’s Go Down Moses to stuff a sea of silver tinsel into a suitcase. Or when the group sits casually downstage in a huddle as Shon gathers Aleong’s hair into a ponytail. The dancing is strong, technical, powerful, no doubt, but the former moments were the most resonant tones.