Like a child before a birthday, for much of December I’d been counting down to the NYC debut of Aszure Barton’s Busk.  The day finally arrived, as they have a habit of doing.

We had carefully strategized the pre-theatre flow of the evening so that we would have ample time for dinner and then a taxi ride to the theatre for an 8 O’clock curtain. We neglected to factor in unusually slow restaurant service and chaotic holiday traffic. At 3 minutes to 8 we were still blocks away from the theatre caught in bumper- to- bumper traffic.

Initially, I was able to contain my frustration, but ultimately, as the seconds ticked by, I decided it would be faster to walk.  Leaving the car, I started my version of a  run.  After an initial burst of energy which carried me about ten feet, I remembered, that as an aging asthmatic running in 20 degree weather, I’d have done better staying inside the car!  I called choreographer/dancer Nicole Wolcott who was waiting for me in the theatre. She let me know there would be no late seating.  No, I told myself, this will not happen to me! And it did not. Somehow, I gratefully made it to my seat in the Jerome Robbins Theatre on the third floor of the Baryshnikov Art Center just as the lights began to dim.

This was not  just any performance for me, but the long awaited and highly anticipated NYC debut of busk. The work was begun during the first season of Danceworks at the Lobero Theatre in Santa Barbara in the winter of 2009. Busk had toured internationally for the last year, and now was beginning its U.S. engagements. Two shows were added to two sold- out performances in NYC.

During Aszure’s month-long residency in Santa Barbara, she was exquisitely tuned into her surroundings and strongly influenced by the late winter persona of the town . Once the din and gloss of tourists are removed from our otherwise lovely downtown, a hidden and darker side of the population becomes apparent. The homeless are revealed in small groups, as loners lost in their own interior worlds, or for those with some talent, entertaining on State Street(the main drag) or at the Farmer’s Markets. The latter are the buskers.

Each day on their way to and from the theatre, Aszure and her company of remarkable young dancers passed by those living on the fringes of society who try to survive by busking or often downright begging.

The black costumes and black hoodies (designed in SB by Australian designer Michelle Jank) that the dancers wore during  most of the performance, captured the anonymity that the homeless have in our relatively affluent community.  They are here, but they are apart. Their culture is alien, but their need to be seen and acknowledged is ever present. Busk has moments of tenderness and comraderie, but also moments of isolation, rejection and struggle, that mirror the human condition. Opportunities for the performers to reveal and conceal their true selves are in constant opposition and provide opportunities for breathtaking solos and duets.

The live, sweet, intoxicating and beguiling gypsy music of Ljova Zhurbin was a perfect vehicle that enabled the audience to enter the mysterious, dark and occasionally exhilarating world of buskers, theatrically created by Aszure and Artists.

My revisit to the ever evolving Busk reinforced my opinion of Aszure Barton as a daring, inventive, thrilling and perceptive observer of our times. For the running time of the performance, I was suspended in a sometimes dark, sometimes glittering, but always carefully crafted, alternate universe.  We can ask no more of theatre and dance.

Congratulations to Aszure, to Ljova, the technical team, and  to  committed and fabulous dancers who helped create Busk.  Congratulations also to everyone everywhere who has supported and encouraged this choreographer’s nascent and stunning  career.