The Lost Book of Miriam Review

Out of all the shows I picked to see during the Philly Fringe Live Arts Festival, this show and 'The Levity of Lithium' were the two shows I was most looking forward to. 'The Lost Book of Miriam' presented itself as a kind of 'Exodus from Miriam's point of view' type of play. I was excited because historical fiction is way fun, and because I think promoting hearing women's voices--especially women's voices and experiences that have been silenced and discounted for thousands of years--is a very important task. It also happened to be my birthday, which heightened my anticipation (but I promise I won't let that bias my review).

Now, you should know that I am also a big advocate for supporting the arts, no matter how wacky something initially seems, I give it the benefit of the doubt, I wait it out, in hopes that perhaps I'm wrong, perhaps this is going somewhere, perhaps the artist's heart and soul is really wrapped up in the expression of said piece of art.

That said, you should also know that I would have left this performance early if it hadn't meant that I would have had to walk directly in front of the stage, or if I wasn't doing this writing assignment for BSM.

Yes, that sounds harsh, but it's true.

The show began with text projected on a screen that was hard to read; a voice chanting in hebrew accompanied this. Three women comprised the show, all dressed in flowing white shifts. The women interacted non-verbally throughout the piece, until the end. Most of the show consisted of modern dance to music that often included hebrew chanting, new age-y type notes, and an oddly dissonant drum beat.

The women did do some fascinating things in their dancing, truly redefining shape and movement as one woman would be poised on the back of another. They also occasionally used props, such as shallow round drums, which they alternately used as drums and as symbols in their choreographed piece.

There were themes of water and sacred womanhood but that was the most that I could get out of it. The show ended with each woman handing a small flower to each audience member, and then coming back around with communion-esque shot-glasses filled with water. The women used the water shots to toast several different things, and again the themes I most remember were 'women' and 'water', finally culminating in a hearty L'chaim!

I do believe that art can and should make us uncomfortable, challenge what we think we know and understand--but ultimately in a way that leads to deeper understanding, not more confusion.

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