The Sokolow Theatre/Dance Ensemble will perform “Lynchtown,” the 1936 masterwork by modern dance pioneer Charles Weidman, at the Paul Taylor Dance Studios this weekend—and nearly nine decades after its premiere, the historic work feels eerily relevant. “Lynchtown” is part of a Weidman trio titled Atavisms, in which the choreographer explores the effects of groupthink. But while the other two sections of Atavisms capture the phenomenon’s inherent ridiculousness—via scrappy department-store shoppers in “Bargain Counter” and greedy financiers in “Stock Exchange”—“Lynchtown,” inspired by a lynching Weidman witnessed as a 13-year-old in Omaha, Nebraska, evokes the dangerous infectiousness of violence and hatred.
Samantha Géracht, artistic director of the Sokolow ensemble, says this month’s performance—the first of “Lynchtown” since 2008—is the result of a joint effort with Gail Corbin, director of the Doris Humphrey Foundation, and Sokolow ensemble associate artistic director Lauren Naslund. (Géracht and Naslund also performed in the 2008 reconstruction, directed by Corbin.) All share a passion for preserving the legacy of rebellious dance artists, like Weidman and his longtime artistic partner Doris Humphrey, who believed that art should reflect and comment on contemporary life. “Charles and Doris were interested in social justice,” Corbin says.
The process of reconstructing “Lynchtown”was both a political challenge and a labor of love. It was important, Géracht says, to make space for dancers grappling with the horrible history associated with lynching. Even for the youngest dancers in the Sokolow company, racist vigilantism remains palpable; they saw the hangman’s noose dangling from a scaffold erected on the steps of the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021. One dancer worried if it was appropriate to do the piece at all.
Corbin contextualizes “Lynchtown”as a product of a time when lynchings routinely went unpunished. Though Black people were the primary victims of lynching, “Charles said if the question arose about the victim in the work, it should be a generic man, not a woman or an old person and not at all a Black person,” Corbin says. The company has continued that tradition in its casting today, deliberately making the work more metaphorical than literal.
“Lynchtown” can also raise questions about appropriation. Weidman was a white male, and the piece centers a white mob’s twisted bodies and contorted, violent gestures and movements. But it frames these people as victims of their own hatred. Unlike 1943’s Strange Fruit—the Black choreographer and anthropologist Pearl Primus’ powerfully evocative view of the pain and anguish lynchings caused the victim’s community—Weidman’s piece performs a different type of intervention, showing how evil dehumanizes the perpetrator.
GIPHY App Key not set. Please check settings