Dance - ‘D’ is for dauntless
Beacon dances all over the map
With a sweep of his arm and a “hurry on in,” he gathered us round to hear where he’d been. “I’m D. Patton White, Beacon Dance is our name, and I’ve been mapping the world. From Prussia to Montevideo! To Istanbul and the Orient! To the wilds of Texas and California!” he said with a rub of his chin.
Then he unfurled a parchment upon the wall of his well-pitched tent. (By a hand-painted banner, we knew it as the Beacon Hill Arts Center.) “Behold, my Mapping Project,” he declared with his nobly high voice. We gasped as we watched the sand of many lands and the dirt from countless roads billow into the crowd drawn in from the Decatur Arts Festival.?
On the map were drawings in many colors of oceans fought high and monsters within, of streets and castles, of kingdoms and kin. The brave adventurer with a mop of curly blond hair had mapped the whole world with the tap of his feet, the bend of his elbows, and the arc of his leap.?
From Berlin, he and a merry band of dancers (they called themselves the Several Dancers CORE) had only just returned. Strange stories he told, too fantastic to believe, of avant-garde dancers being served from their very own espresso machine by a German woman who promised to provide their “every need.” And other stories, surely a sorcerer’s illusion, of an audience that stayed after a performance to drink at the bar and engage the dancers in discussions about their work.?
But D. Patton White returned to his home of 25 years. Through dance, he would take us on our own evening’s excursion. “Adventure,” he said, “was the premise of this whole country.” So he flicked a corner of his map, and like a flying carpet ride, off we all went.?
“Behold, the Oracle,” he said in a hush, “for that is her name.” A belly dancer then came onto the stage, and Patton’s magic map project transported us in time and place. “With her well-toned tummy she charms lions and snakes. Some say a dragon once gazed on her navel, and to this day he sleeps soundly with a smile on his serpent face.”?
He tapped the map and the Oracle disappeared, prompting a sigh from the captivated men. Then we found ourselves in Uruguay, sometime soon after 1910. “This dapper gentleman in the very smart hat is Luis Rognoni, one cool tango cat. He’s dancing with Cassandra Garcia, una mujera muis baya, and the bandoneòn loves her feet.”?
The couple kept dancing close as we left their golden age, then Louise Runyon chanted poems while she danced on the stage. She sang of molten steel and spoke to a child unborn.?
“Now forward, onward, to the future we go!” called out dauntless Patton as he held his map high. We saw Jhon Stronks and Wayne Smith moving to music of an alien rhythm. We watched Debra Mazer extemporize her yet-to-come vision.?
Many other wonders we watched throughout that night: manifestoes in movement, beautiful bodies in flight. But at last, alas, the evening had come to its end. He wrapped up his map and tied it with twine. No bar built in Beacon, so we lifted our plastic cups to the adventures of the avant-garde, and to our guide: D. Patton White.