COLA Fizzes and Fizzles

The annual COLA (City of Los Angeles) performance series began Friday with new one-act works by performance artist Tim Miller and contemporary choreographer Hae Kyung Lee on two stages in the Los Angeles Theatre Center.

In “Us,” Miller said goodbye to Los Angeles just a few blocks from the old Los Angeles Contemporary Exhibitions site where he made a major breakthrough in 1984 with “Postwar.” Since that LACE debut, he has co-founded Highways Performance Space, taught for two local universities, published two books, toured internationally and become demonized as one of the so-called “NEA 4” who defied the conservatism of the National Endowment for the Arts in a lawsuit.

Like “Postwar,” his latest solo vehicle described growing up scared in America, and the American flag again formed a central symbol. At one point, in a thoughtful mime sequence, Miller used it as a hangman’s noose but eventually declared that it belongs with him, wherever he goes, because “I somehow still have hope for us.”

His title “Us” referred to the U.S., to the American gay community and to Miller’s eight-year relationship with a young Australian. To continue in that relationship, Miller is moving to London, for U.S. immigration laws won’t allow his partner to stay here after his student visa expires later this year.

Using an array of statistics, “Us” attacked the federal government for allegedly treating gays and lesbians as second-class citizens, but it also featured endearing reminiscences of Miller’s boyhood fantasies and two radically different self-portraits (one on videotape). It’s always fascinating to see how he redefines himself as a stage character, and his latest incarnations leaven truth-telling with sly self-parody.

Since Miller described “Us” as a work in progress, critical evaluation will wait until a finished version arrives. But Miller’s departure represents a real loss to the community, for he inspires creativity and activism wherever he goes. L.A. won’t be the same--and neither, most likely, will London.

If Miller emphasized conversational informality, Lee sought a picturesque, ceremonial stylization in “Silent Flight II,” performed with exemplary control and concentration by her company (now in its 12th season), Hae Kyung Lee and Dancers.

Part 1 found Claudia Lopez, Miguel Olvera, Kishisa Ross and Sacheen Nehring wearing sarongs the color of unbleached muslin or raw silk on a stage often virtually obliterated by smoke.

Clustered together while slowly swaying and turning in the manner of ancient Javanese court ensembles, they eventually began delicately swirling strips of fabric a la classical Korean sleeve dances, and then reclined, dragging the fabric along the floor.

A richly textured score by Steve Moshier--performed live by his seven-member Liquid Skin Ensemble and vocalist Anna Homier--supplied plenty of atmosphere but no sense of where Lee’s picture-perfect designer ritual might be leading. Neither did the central solo for James Kelly, all dreamy torso undulations and rippling hands.

But just as the whole piece seemed to be evolving into a throwback to the style of Ruth St. Denis, early in the last century, when the Mystic East could be evoked for American audiences through glamorous poses and billowing incense, all the quasi-spiritual rites ended and Lee launched her hyperphysical finale. Here Lopez and Olvera climbed the cloth pillars that had previously served as scenery and used them to launch trapeze feats.

So it turned out that “Silent Flight II” didn’t resemble St. Denis as much as “Dralion,” a Cirque du Soleil production that garnished displays of gymnastic skills with Asian mysticism--and Asian dance. Yes, you could choose to interpret the Lopez and Olvera sequence as a leap of faith, just as you might find a metaphysical interpretation for the toe-dancers on eggshells in “Dralion.”

Hiding a showpiece inside a ritual is always a neat trick because it inspires just this kind of double-think. Lee knew exactly how much smoke and spirituality she needed to sell her flash act Friday, but the result represented strong marketing and thin artistry: diet COLA.