Weekend Reviews : Dance : Urban Bush Women Explore Heritage

In “Praise House,” angels in shimmering blue tease, tempt and sometimes even frighten a young woman named Hannah away from the workaday world into a realm of images and colors too rich to be defined in words.

To belong to that realm, Hannah must reject her Momma (oppressed by the drudgery of her life) and become the archetypal dreamer that her Granny was--but with a difference. Hannah will not merely experience the dreams but express them in visionary art. For Hannah, the lives of her Granny and her Momma represent a choice that is no choice: whether to “draw or die. . . .”

Previously seen in a PBS abridgement, “Praise House” came to the Wadsworth Theater on Friday as a full-evening performance by Urban Bush Women. A folk-influenced ballad-opera with major infusions of spoken text and dance, it drew on African-American traditions and the life of artist Minnie Evans in a bold theatrical statement about the inborn (or inherited) creativity of African-American women.

On an even deeper level, it attempted to show how the unique spirituality of a community shapes its art: cultural anthropology transformed into popular entertainment. Art served as a sustaining force in the society shown here; only Hannah’s Momma had no art, no visions, no angels and died alone in despair.

As in its appearances at the 1987 Los Angeles Festival and the 1989 “Black Choreographers” showcase, Urban Bush Women took the audience by storm, whether singing one of Carl Riley’s throaty anthems or flinging themselves through spine-lashing maneuvers choreographed by Pat Hall-Smith and company director Jawole Willa Jo Zollar.

Ultimately, however, the slow-moving narrative, dogged repetitions and prosaic stage design of “Praise House” marked it as the kind of piece that Momma would have created, rather than Granny or Hannah. Where were the miraculous colors and images, where was the dream?

On this same stage six months ago, David Rousseve bonded with the memory of his grandmother in a startling transformation that made her legacy to him as man and artist an unforgettable revelation. On this same stage six months ago, Bebe Miller found in Jimi Hendrix’s music the inspiration for time travel of another sort, a heroic affirmation of other kinds of roots.

How foursquare “Praise House” seemed, how relentlessly hard-sell, picturesque and even padded, after Rousseve’s and Miller’s brilliant explorations of heritage. When you take inspiration as your subject, you’d better be able to deliver it--and using parasols to signify death and transfiguration just isn’t the same thing.

Ironically, the only genuinely inspired moment on Friday came in Terri Cousar’s performance of Momma’s death. Though the staging established a split focus--with Hannah and her angels dynamically interacting nearby--Cousar’s ability to make each gesture summarize a lifetime of suffering took a thankless role into the stratosphere.

Viola Sheely’s trembling dance as Hannah proved nearly as impressive, but did anyone believe that this driven, frantic creature would ever be able to mix paints or isolate a shape in her mind and put it on canvas?

Besides serving as company dramaturg, Laurie Carlos deftly detailed Granny’s eccentricities in speech and song. Ayodele Martin Aubert (one of only two men onstage) brought disarming sweetness to the role of Brother Meshack (an angel of death) and great surety to his musical responsibilities.

The five other angels sang and danced with unstinting vivacity, giving (for once) the world of the spirit--Hannah’s and Granny’s world--a tangible reality. In an era dominated by the bottom line, that achievement shouldn’t be underestimated.

More Weekend Reviews

MUSIC

L.A. Chamber Orchestra at Royce Hall. F4

Igor Kipnis at the First Congregational Church. F4

Pasadena Symphony at the Pasadena Civic Auditorium. F4

Long Beach Symphony at the Terrace Theater. F4

POP

Nirvana, L7, Hole and Sister Double Happiness at the Palace. F6

Paul Kantner at McCabe’s. F6

Stan Ridgway at the Coach House. F8