At a recent practice for PUSH Physical Theatre, Tom
Ohl and Topher Holt made handstand pushups look like routine jumping jacks.
Gravity never weighs PUSH performers down; the five-person troupe relies on it
to carve an imaginary world out of the air around them.
“There should be a sense for the audience that the
air is almost thicker up on the stage,” says Darren Stevenson, who co-founded
PUSH with his wife Heather. “When I move through it I leave something tangible
behind me.”
Building off this illusion, PUSH draws you into its
world with daring lifts and acrobatics, slow-motion mime, and irresistible
characters. The Stevensons started their company in 1993, and changed the name
to PUSH in 2000 after deciding to move from Atlanta to Rochester to grow their concept. They
see themselves as pushing the boundaries of classical theater.
Stevenson looks for versatility in his performers
rather than classical training. Ohl and Holt were former high-school athletes
with little dance experience before an apprenticeship with PUSH in the summer
of 2002. But they had the qualities Stevenson looks for — what he defines as
the body of a gymnast, the mind of an actor, and the heart of a poet — and he
asked both men and Holt’s wife, Heather, to join the company.
PUSH conveys powerful messages about friendship,
trust, and spirituality — all without feeling heavy-handed. After changing
costumes at a recent performance, Darren Stevenson returned to introduce the
next piece in a black tank top and tights. “We’re back again, different
clothes,” he said, “a little tighter in the pants.”
The troupe credits acts like Cirque Du Soleil and
the Blue Man Group for inspiration, but says the closest comparison is the
critically acclaimed Pilobolus, a six-person company that has broken ground
with its non-traditional partnering. Stevenson chooses physical theater because
it can express some concepts — like trust — better than words.
Nevertheless, he recognizes physical spectacles have limits, so PUSH tells
stories with each performance.
“I don’t want to leave people scratching their
heads,” he says. “That’s why people hate artists.”
In “Jonathan and David,” an allusion to the Biblical
tale about two soldiers closer than brothers, the audience sees an intimacy
rarely depicted in a male friendship. Amidst embraces and fisticuffs, Stevenson
and Ohl pull off moves requiring strength, patience, and trust. While Ohl lies
on his back, Stevenson faces him and places his hands on Ohl’s bent knees. Ohl
then braces his partner’s shoulders so Stevenson can slowly raise his legs into
a handstand.
PUSH performs throughout the United States, and has recently gained
more national exposure. The airport network, which televises in airport
terminals across the United States, bought footage of PUSH
from a WXXI documentary that PBS aired nationally this winter. Yet PUSH still
wants to build its foundation in Rochester, a place where Darren
Stevenson says he doesn’t get funny looks when he says he’s a dancer.
Although Darren says PUSH’s unique physical theater
can be difficult to market, a recent performance at PenfieldHigh School confirmed the company’s
appeal. In a piece called “The Mask,” Holt rearranges his face from a plastered
smile to a twisted grimace under the disguise’s power. The originally skeptical
teenagers howled as the other characters tried to yank the imaginary mask off
his face.
After the performance, several teens met PUSH
members and one mother thanked Holt for talking to her son. She said her boy
was almost too star-struck to speak to him.
PUSH is debuting a piece called
“Goodbye” on Sunday, May 15, at NewSong church, which meets in Building 4 on
the Monroe Community College campus, 1000 East Henrietta Road, at 10:30 a.m.
Free. www.pushtheatre.org
This article appears in May 11-17, 2005.
