As I was given my program for Kevin Williamson’s Blue at Stomping Ground L.A. on May 3, 2025, I admit that I had a brief moment of panic upon realizing that I would be seeing a one man show. But, using humor, spoken word, well-developed movement phrases, a variety of props, and some truly macabre moments, Williamson kept me engaged throughout his presentation.
Entering the space, the chairs were lined up to create four walls surrounding the stage space. The stage contained an upturned chair, and in one corner there was a suit jacket hanging from clothespins. In the blackout, we heard the crinkling of plastic, and when the lights came up, Williamson was curled on the ground in a large, tied off, plastic bag. This section was one of the more bizarre, and seeing the bag steam up from the inside as Williamson rolled around the space as his skin grew redder was a bit anxiety inducing. Like some other more uncomfortable sections, it felt like an intentional choice to make these moments drag on, perhaps highlighting our very human desire to passively observe the grotesque.
Kevin Williamson in “Blue” – Photo by Taso Papadakis.
The movement section that followed featured clear shapes, carving arm movements, and rebounding in and out of shapes. His diagonal paths seemed to reference the four corners of the room, which he would visit throughout the show. Williamson’s movement was soft yet precise and certain, and it showed his control as a dancer. From here, Williamson’s first speech, speaking as ‘Blue,’ showed off his cheeky humor. The audience chuckled at quips such as “I hope I leave you with lingering sadness…” and descriptions of his “rich experiences of isolation and bullying” and the “tapestry of pain and existential dread” of his life.
The show progressed somewhat in this fashion: speeches of various tones in each corner of the room, traveling counterclockwise in his journey, alternating with movement sections or moments of performance art.
When Williamson gave his second speech, as a new character, his anxiety increased as he spoke, leading to heaving and tics that turned into a dynamic movement section that brought the inner dread and turmoil of anxiety to the surface. Contrasting the previous movement section, this was contracting, twisting, and inward, referencing nervous habits like nail biting and featuring pained facial expressions. There was something cinematic about his movements with the instrumental music – it made me think of the scene in Inside Out 2 where we see Anxiety experience a panic attack.
Williamson’s speeches turned more serious in content, first discussing how social media has made us, specifically us in America, less empathetic and more narcissistic. Using some of the clothespins that originally held his jacket, as well as many more clothespins provided by his stone faced assistant, Williamson named things and phrases that are gone in our current America – to name a few: activism, advocacy, climate science, DEI, expression, Gulf of Mexico – while turning the emotional pain of these losses into physical pain as he clipped a clothespin to his skin with each phrase. This was another rightfully painstaking, dragged out, somber moment.
Kevin Williamson in “Blue” – Photo by Taso Papadakis.
As he danced after this in an orange spot, with his arms lined with clothespins, I saw the image of a phoenix rising from the ashes of this loss. This section featured movements that followed the path of the clips on his body and sharper repeated isolations. Eventually, he began to shake off the pins, which landed with a satisfying thwack, while dancing. Perhaps in a different time and place this would be the glorious, hopeful ending, but accurate to the murky world we live in, this led to more extended task-based sections.
The chair, which had remained in the space, acknowledged in some of Williamson’s text, as well as during earlier movements where he seemed to imitate the shape of the overturned chair, was used to push through the pins. Egged on silently by his demanding assistant who would bring out a new chair each time Williamson was able to push the chair across the space. The pushing of the chairs, with Williamson’s exhaustion showing, followed by attempts to pick up all the entangled chairs at once, were uncomfortably extended, but again, this felt like the point and it was painstakingly captivating.
Kevin Williamson in “Blue” – Photo by Taso Papadakis.
Williamson’s penultimate speech took place in the final untouched corner, and he analyzed his choices of the extended chair tasks humorously: “We didn’t need to see that. I didn’t need to do that. Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.” After the more serious topics of the last few sections of spoken word, Williamson again leaned into humor as he shoved grapes into his mouth while talking, with his voice becoming increasingly impossible to understand. When the lights faded and Williamson shone a flashlight on his face, like a camper telling a scary story over the fire, it was a truly terrifying image of his face swollen with grapes as he chuckled and eventually let the grapes drop out of his mouth.
During Williamson’s final section of choreography, I appreciated the details in his work, as well as the way he had a clear voice and vocabulary but showed nuances in each section to capture different feelings. Here, he seemed to conceal his face more, expressing a desire to hide and some kind of yearning. He walks hunched, with shaking hands, before gathering himself and putting the chair upright in its spot. He speaks to the chair, not to us like before, seeming to speak to a mysterious ‘you,’ ending with a goodnight to whomever he imagined in the chair and then to the audience.
While some of the transitions between sections felt a bit unfinished and raw, the evening was truly enjoyable, with moments of humor and deeper thought-provoking moments. While it was a one man show, it was not about just him and Williamson sought to speak to broader experiences and concerns in our current political climate.
For more information about Kevin Williamson, please visit his website.
To learn more about Stomping Ground L.A., please visit their website.
Written by Rachel Turner for LA Dance Chronicle.
Featured image: Kevin Williamson in “Blue” – Photo by Taso Papadakis.
