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From the Chicago Tribune
October 16, 1998
Dancing with a sense of danger
by Jon Anderson
Tribune Staff Writer
(The full text of the article appears below the picture.)
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Lead quote: "Women, especially, are taught to view their bodies
as the enemy... [Stage fighting] gave me a reason to love my physical
self, to feel my body's power and skills."
-- Babes With Blades director Dawn "Sam" Alden
Caption 1: Babes With Blades director Dawn "Sam" Alden (front)
leads her troupe at a rehearsal. "It's more like dancing than acting,"
she says of the Babes' brand of performance.
Caption 2: Alden demonstrates a choke-hold on fellow Babe Vicky
James. The Andersonville-based troupe recently performed at a theater
festival in Edinburgh, Scotland.
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When confronted with a glass ceiling, Dawn "Sam" Alden has
a simple solution.
Throw somebody through it.
Not one to be held back in her chosen profession, which is stage-fight
choreography, Alden has worked around a lack of roles for weapon-wielding
women in local theater productions by forming her own troupe, Babes With
Blades.
They also use sticks, whips and fists.
"I really want to do a fight with car clubs. That would be fun," director
Alden said the other night as a dozen Babes thrashed about, rehearsing
for a fundraising performance Monday at the Apollo Theater at 2540 N.
Lincoln Ave.
There was, to put it mildly, danger in the air.
"I'm gonna be spittin' teeth," murmured Cara Pasierb, proclaiming what
an audience might see if she didn't get better timing with her fight partner,
Kerry Smith.
"Can you get a little more on stage, please? I'm worried about backswing
on the front row," yelled Alden, waving back a pair of sword-wielding
femmes, one of whom was getting dangerously close to amputating, without
his consent, the legs of a visitor.
So far, the Babes have never "lost" an audience member, though they themselves
are prone to such mishaps as turned ankles, banged knees and, in one case,
a slight stabbing.
"It only left a bruise through the costume. It didn't puncture the skin,"
Alden quickly explained, noting that her brand of mayhem depends on "selling
the strike," a theatrical illusion of hitting, reacting and sound, mostly
made with non-striking hands.
"It's more like dance than acting," said Alden.
"There's something about the trust between people on stage that's really
exciting. You put yourself in a bit of a dangerous situation and you communicate
danger to the audience. I always feel safe, but it's a line I love to
walk," added Pasierb, who had two semesters in stage fighting ("hand-to-hand
and sword") while studying theater at DePaul University.
That, other Babes noted, is the real payoff of being a Babe.
Aside from adding yet another skill to their stage repertoires as actors,
dancers, gymnasts and, in some cases, stunt persons, there is for many
of them a rush of empowerment that comes with the ability to handle, say,
a good bar brawl.
Bringing considerable joy to their work, the Babes get together for regular
workouts and appear from time to time at such venues as Vaudeville Nights
in the Wrigleyville area and at Footsteps, a women-centered theater in
Andersonville, which is their home stage.
Funds raised Monday will go to defray costs incurred by Footsteps in
sending seven of the Babes to last summer's Edinburgh Fringe Festival,
a three-week gathering of off-beat acts held in Scotland.
By all accounts, the Babes were a hit in the heather, drawing a big hand
for such scenes as a tribute to Jackie Chan, a Wild West saloon brawl
a fight in a women's prison and a tangle between two actresses competing
for a spot on "Xena: Warrior Princess."
"When I moved here from Pittsburgh in 1992," Alden said, explaining how
the troupe got started, "I met women who had stage combat experience,
and they all complained, 'We never get a chance to use it.' My reaction
was, 'Let's stop whining and do something.'"
By day, her actors work in offices, bookstores, a framing company, a
grocery chain and a computer consulting firm, many passing as mild-mannered
clerks and secretaries.
"All the things they want to do to their co-workers; they get out at
night," Alden said, suggesting that stylized expressions of aggression
can help improve self-image.
"Women, especially, are taught to view their bodies as the enemy," Alden
said. "We're never pretty enough, never skinny enough. We're always squeezing,
dieting, having an adversarial relationship with our body. This [stage
fighting] gave me a reason to love my physical self, to feel my body's
power and skills." And so it is for others.
"Absolutely. There's a real growing interest," Alden said, when asked
about this female theatrical subgenre. "Stage combat classes are now 65
percent women. And we're seeing a really wonderful swing into strong women's
roles in movies and TV," she added.
"When it all clicks, it's really magical," said Pasierb, who performs
in one Babe classic, a hair-pulling, knock-down, bargain-basement melee
during Wedding-Dress-Sale Day.
There is another advantage, noted Pasierb, who is short and blond and
cute and has always hated it when people told her she was short and blond
and cute.
This summer, she found, when she swaggered along the streets of Edinburgh
carrying a hefty broad sword, nobody said anything like that.
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