Cumar
Best defined as confluence, conversation, collaboration, crossroads.
By Quinn McClurg with art by Sana Ikramuddin
“Cumar” is an Irish word for “confluence;” “confluence” is an English word for the joining of two streams. Cumar at the Southern Theater is a performance centered at the crossroads of song and dance, and Irish and West African culture. Of course, definitions fall short of the example of demonstration.
So you may ask yourself, what does a doun doun have to do with Riverdance or a banjo with bounding? Well, rhythm is a language that can be understood by all and integrated in any number of ways: a tap dancer collaborates with a djembe player; a doun doun completes the verses that a banjo, a flute, a clarinet, and a fiddle could not; a traditional Irish orchestra with the flowing sighs of West African dance. The silences between each performance’s style were bridged, contrasted, and enhanced by one another; a practice requiring sufficient nuance, knowledge, and trust of the other to execute.
One moment, the audience in tears of a riverbank of some moonlit river; the next, the audience called to action, to gasping, to triumph, the jubilation resounding off the 113-year-old walls of the theater. And when all was finished? A cast call and a humble bow before sidling off stage for a post-show meet-and-greet.
I am going to put my journalistic integrity at risk here by saying that I did not know anything about Irish or West African culture before attending this show; however, I do not believe that it was required—the experience itself, the contrast and collaboration across the two very distinct styles, taught me more than a solo showcase of either of them would. Performance is unpretentious in this respect: as long as you are able to receive the energy, you are able to understand, especially when six world-renowned musicians and eight widely-acclaimed dancers are present to translate.