On M2M and genius theatre makers who completely miss the mark

One of the rules of thumb of contemporary theatre art reads as follows: There is no middle ground in a production with an insanely long title. Such a production is either fantastic or dies of its own pretensions. At Judson church is ringing in Harlem (made to measure) / twenty looks of paris is burning at the judson church (m2m) is the latter.

In 2012, I saw an earlier performance by dancer/choreographer Trajal Harrell, titled (M)imosa. A fascinating, disruptive and quite ingenious event, in which four actors gave virtuosic theatrical performances as hysterical drag queens. Inspired by the creative cross-pollination (which, incidentally, did not take place) between the early-postmodern dance innovators of Judson Church in 1960s New York, and the wildly expressive drag queens, queers and transsexuals from Harlem's emerging vogue scene.

Harrell spun out this theme into a series of performances of various lengths (from XS to XL). The performance with the unpronounceable title (let's stick with M2M) that was shown yesterday in the bare, clinically white auditorium of the Stedelijk Museum is an outlier in it. For the piece is made to measure, custom-made.

That title is a bit ironic. Because almost everything in this show is skewed.

As a start, Harrel comes on trembling, half crying, sits on a chair and sings cryptic one-liners from blues songs - "Have mercy on me!" and "I got the Monday blues into Sunday blues" or When I'm home I'm not at home" - for over half an hour. Two fellow players armed with microphones (Thibault Lac and Ondrej Vidlar) sit to his left and right, supplementing his wailing with hums, whispers and curious commands like "Don't stop!" and "Mamma said!".

Un-forgettably irritating, because nothing else happens. Soon a number of spectators nervously shift their seats. Hoping for some development. But this ripples on - gékmakily - for over thirty minutes.

After reeling for a while, the players slowly but surely get moving. From schmoozing catwalks - as if they were walking a fashion show - to increasingly exuberant show-dance-like steps. The moves are thick-set, ironic and flamboyant. First to music that is totally out of place. Think a soft, fragile song by Antony Hegarty, or a country smartlap.

At one point, a house beat erupts and the three lose themselves in an ecstatic, utterly chaotic hypervogue dance. Seems improvised on the spot. While screaming encouragement to each other's antics to climax with cries like "Don't think!" "Work!" and "Conceptual dance!"

Okay. Watching the documentary Paris is Burning, it becomes clear that things were a bit like that in those Harlem ballrooms in 1960s. But that doesn't make this performance understandable. I have no idea what I've been watching.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWuzfIeTFAQ

At the height of the hysteria, they fall silent. And they softly sing together, "Wouldn't you want to wet my fire with your love, babe?" Maybe I missed something, but - with all good will - I couldn't make sense of it. What do you think?

Trajal Harrell, Judson church is ringing in Harlem (made to measure) / twenty looks of paris is burning at the judson church (m2m). Viewed: 21 June, Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam.