On Fri­day I went to a Cool Cleve­land event and then saw the Momix dance group put on a mod­ern dance per­for­mance enti­tled Opus Cac­tus. I’d nev­er been to a dance per­for­mance before and this par­tic­u­lar one was a good cher­ry-pop­per.

The Momix dancers give poise a badass con­no­ta­tion. To steal a phrase from Fight Club, they looked like they were carved from wood. And Tough! Some of the crazi­ness they did made lac­tic acid burn in my mus­cles just watch­ing. I also have a much bet­ter appre­ci­a­tion for the clichéd sex­u­al­i­ty of a ‘dancer’s body’ that appears in so many less­er works of fic­tion. Any­way, I was expect­ing lost of desert south­west themes, and while they were present in glow-in-the-dark tum­ble­weed, cac­ti and Amerindi­an voice-overs the group used music that brought to mind hunters on the Kala­hari, and the Aus­tralian Out­back, and even Ara­bia through the songs of a muezzin. Most of the per­for­mance took place at night or at dawn, when the desert is most active. So it end­ed up, at least for me, being a per­for­mance that point­ed out the vibrant theme of life that runs through all deserts. And I now know once and for all that dance the­ater isn’t for sissies. Hehe.

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