Rogelio Lopez Dreams Big
By Garth Grimball
Rogelio Lopez & Dancers remounted Entre Despierto y Dormido (premiere 2022) at the Joe Goode Annex, and thank goddess for it. The evening-length work is an excavation of Lopez’s subconscious and identity formation as a queer, Mexican immigrant via dreams. Unlike many modern dance performances that are couched in personal narratives, Entre Despierto y Dormido is so thoughtful, so considered, and so grounded in theatricality. This show is not a dancer noodling onstage as a therapy session; it is specific and well-constructed dance theater.
The arc of Entre Despierto y Dormido is driven by its soundtrack. Seventeen songs set the mood and dictate each section’s length. While most of the music is pop, the formulaic nature of the genre doesn’t feel repetitive due to Lopez’s design credentials. He did the scenic, lighting and costume design. The variety of costumes especially adds depth. Through the design we get to see another part of Lopez’s identity.
The performance opens with Lopez seated at a desk staring at a laptop. Projected behind him is a Zoom meeting. His camera isn’t on. Surrounding his initials are 6 white people, cameras on, and identified as White Person 1-6. The audience witnesses the end of a session filled with self-congratulations for “doing the work” and a “somatic moment” so they can return to embodiment. (There were many knowing laughs in the audience.)
Lopez leaves his desk and “lies down” on a bed—a forced perspective set where he stands against a wall designed into a bedroom—and covers his eyes with a sleep mask. Once he drifts off we enter a fantasia montage of sexuality, domesticity, shame and uncertainty led by Kevin Gaytan and Matt Han. The charming duo inhabit a dozen roles and archetypes with a knowing sensibility as they stare into the audience acknowledging the collective gaze. Whether they are doms in kinky boots, modern dancers rolling on the floor, or magicians handling a lot of prop work, there is no imaginary fourth wall. The artifice is real and they know it.
Gaytan and Han manipulate Lopez, tempting him, cruising him, contorting him, mirroring his fears and desires. Lopez is a reluctant, if often blinded, participant. Even in his dreams he may be shielding himself from a truth or wearing a mask that makes him obvious to all but himself.
As the show progresses his eyes and his body language open. He is resolute when performing ballet folklorico. He dances the traditionally male and female roles, donning Veracruz attire and a costume resembling different types of china poblano. Alone on stage he captivates, whether it's percussive footwork or swirling undercurves.
I’m still chewing on the ending of Entre Despierto y Dormido and I don’t want to spoil it. Suffice it to say that opening one’s eyes rarely ensures clarity but is the only way to see more.
Garth Grimball is a dance writer and artist based in Oakland, CA. He is a contributor to SF Examiner and Dance Media. He is the editor of ODC’s Dance Stories.
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