This past weekend the Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center featured Voyage by Japanese performers Dumb Type. On the EMPAC website, the event is said to “explore the uncertainty and dislocation of the modern world through a combination of intense sound, movement, and projected images.” The performance began with a dancer who gracefully controlled her movement as the semblance of lights intoned on the three balls situated on stage. The roundness and the ugly symmetry reflected the natural world, and this multimedia performance piqued my curiosity.

Next, two more performers with headlamps came on stage, running in circles, while two more performers with brooms raked stones aside and into a line. The repetition and the disarray caused by the shrieking dancers and the raking performers was used to portray confusion on voyages. In another section of the performance, a hypnotic girl laid on a circular mat and spoke her thoughts of wishing happiness onto others aloud. Quickly, the girl’s ideas of the world became dark and lonely, as she hoped that others would also experience pain and suffering. While the transition was eased with shifting locations on the screen, the change in tone was abrupt, and the screen suddenly projected the garble of noise and terror.

In another portion of the performance, two people dressed in spacesuits propelled each other around and around in a nonchalant yet energetic fashion. Again, the motions were controlled and timed, and the sections blended from one to another.

There was also a scene that scared me. The manipulation of the lights and shadows prevented the audience from seeing the transitions, but this is how it played out. A person would fix himself in the middle of the stage, standing rigidly, as a projected word would trickle down the screen over their clothes and then another word would make its way down. This would continue slowly for a time until the audience would become accustomed to the current situation, unquestioningly processing their sensory information. Then another person would walk onto the stage, hug the rigid person, and in one flash the exchange would occur. The original rigid person would disappear, while the “hugger” would take the other’s place becoming equally rigid.

If you seem to be confused by my descriptions, then imagine the expressions of the people as they walk out of the theater at the end of the performance. Think of Voyage as a “portrayal of a dark and lonely yet humorous world, in which technology-driven communication, speed, and shifting locations are a way of life.” The show would certainly haunt people’s dreams.