Bill "Crutchmaster" Shannon. - dance review

Dance Magazine, June, 2003 by Darrah Carr

Dance Theater Workshop New York, New York January 21-February 9, 2003

Bill Shannon's AOW: Remix, which received its New York premiere at Dance Theater Workshop, is aptly named. The mix is total. THE OUTCOME IS A REWORKING OF CONVENTIONAL NOTIONS OF DANCE, PERFORMANCE, AND DISABILITY. Shannon juxtaposes the deliberately cliche with the completely unexpected, and uses both freestyle and set choreography, which itself is a blend of dance, theater, and video projections, set to the live beat of DJ Excess.

Shannon's mix stems from philosophy as well as physical necessity. He considers himself a performance artist rather than a dancer, and defines his work as rooted in street culture but informed by the fine arts. Shannon lives with a degenerative hip condition that prevents him from walking more than a few steps without crutches; hence his nickname "Crutchmaster."

Drawing on his teenage experience, Shannon glided gracefully across the stage on his skateboard, crutches in tow, poised like a skier. The next moment, he turned, twisted, and balanced on his crutches with such speed and agility that they seemed to be merely an extension of his limbs. Eventually, the talented members of New York hip-hop group The Step Fenz joined Shannon in a friendly competition, each performing a solo more impressive than the last, in front of mammoth projections of the New York City skyline by VJ Vello Virkhaus. The music and video ground to a halt and it became clear that there was something more going on than physical feats. Shannon yelled, "What happened to the show?" and called the dancers who exited "fakers."

He then entered a collage of disparate scenes. A soothing water dance interrupted by break-dancing hospital attendants suggested invasive medical procedures. A simulated video game that ended in bloodshed hinted at the violence inherent in our culture. Shannon delivered a final provocative line as he walked offstage, unaided by his crutches. "Quit faking the show," he muttered, daring us to think hard about what we just saw.