\n<\/p>\n
There is plenty of text in \u201cMany Happy Returns,\u201d but dance, the language of the body \u2014 presented here as intentional and slyly forthright \u2014 is just as critical as the words. The main character, who never speaks but does, in one moment, sing a Billy Joel song in flat a cappella, is Monica Bill Barnes. But is it really her?<\/p>\n
In this partially improvised work at Playwrights Horizons by the artistic team of Barnes and Robbie Saenz de Viteri,<\/a> Barnes, the dancer and choreographer, isn\u2019t just playing herself. Her character is a hybrid of its creators.<\/p>\n Barnes plays the woman\u2019s body \u2014 with its silent-movie allure as it navigates space in sinewy and dewy ways \u2014 and Saenz de Viteri, speaking throughout, is her mind. Through movement and text, the character\u2019s insecurities and joy spill out for all to feel and see. \u201cShe\u2019s a woman who carries herself with total clarity, a clarity she might not even always exactly feel,\u201d Saenz de Viteri says. That seems right.<\/p>\n Bach, Blondie and Judy Garland are part of the lively soundtrack that helps usher in the New Year. Flowers are handed out, a prewritten toast is made by an audience member. We cheer her on. \u201cMany Happy Returns\u201d winds along many paths until it arrives, joyfully, at its sweeping final dance to \u201c(Nothing but) Flowers\u201d by Talking Heads. It seems loose \u2014 with the jovial air of a live podcast \u2014 yet its freedom clearly comes from its unyielding structure and detail.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n At its essence, \u201cMany Happy Returns\u201d is an experiment in the art of camaraderie and connection, of strangers finding community in a broken world. \u201cI should also say I will play someone else, there\u2019s going to be a moment when I play one of you actually and then there will be a moment when one of you has to play one of us,\u201d Saenz de Viteri says. \u201cSo we\u2019re all in this together.\u201d<\/p>\n This production \u2014 admission is free \u2014 takes place in a space dressed up as if for a dance in a school gymnasium. At the seemingly casual start, Barnes arranges pitchers and vases of flowers; Saenz di Viteri sits behind a small table and computer and sets the scene: \u201cThere\u2019s some dread in the air this year for sure,” he says. \u201cMaybe a little bit of joy? I don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n But this performance, he says, will be \u201ckind of a party.\u201d As the mind of this production, Saenz di Viteri is also its amiable host, easygoing and loose from the start. Early on, he asks to borrow a hat from an audience member, which on Thursday turned out to be a fedora more suited to summer and made of paper. Its back story \u2014 the hat was purchased during a trip to Italy \u2014 comes up later in the show when Saenz di Viteri weaves a tale about it inspired by his off-the-cuff exchange with its wearer. Another happy return is this: He takes the banal and makes it riveting.<\/p>\n And Barnes, riding on the quick impulses of her physicality, matches his verbal adroitness as she springs to life, trying to find her footing as she stumbles and triumphs along her sometimes merry, sometimes clueless way. She is in control, but beneath the surface you sense self-doubt; for her, dancing is an armor, where she seems most secure.<\/p>\n