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Off The Deep End

The All-volunteer Fluid Movement Celebrates 10 Years Of Turning Average Joes And Janes Into The Stars Of Their Wacky Water Ballets

July 23, 2009|By Mary Carole McCauley , mary.mccauley@baltsun.com

Now, scenic elements include a 12-foot guard tower painted blue, and fences surrounding the gulag are topped with real barbed wire. The scene in Lichtenstein takes place before a snow-covered Alp and features a life-size stuffed goat. Peru has a volcano, and in Japan, a fabulously green Godzilla makes a surprise appearance.

"Each scene is almost a show in itself," says Alsedek, who dreams of ever more elaborate special effects: underwater speakers, a sophisticated lighting system, perhaps an LED screen to improve visibility for spectators seated at a distance.

Tragically, the goat doesn't float, and neither does Godzilla, so about half of each 30-minute performance takes place out of the water.

FOR THE RECORD - An article in Thursday's editions on the art troupe Fluid Movement mistakenly stated the name of Valarie Perez-Schere's former employer. When she got involved with Fluid Movement, she worked for the Patterson Park Community Development Corp. The Baltimore Sun regrets the errors.

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The idea for Fluid Movement comes from the water-logged brain of Keri Burneston, also known as the burlesque performer and half of the duo, Trixie Little and the Evil Hate Monkey.

In 1998, Burneston was floating in a pool with friends and listening to tunes. She is a huge fan of the old MGM musicals from the 1940s and 1950s featuring swimming sensation Esther Williams, and she thought it might be fun to put on a water ballet.

After rehearsing in a friend's pool, Burneston sensed, rightly, that there was a larger audience for such a show than could fit in a Baltimore backyard. She started searching for a public pool in which to perform, and crossed paths with Perez Schere, who at the time worked in marketing for the city Department of Recreation and Parks.

"It was such a ridiculomongous idea," says Perez Schere, "that I knew it was something I absolutely had to get involved with."

All of this naturally raises the question of where the show's organizers find 80 average Baltimoreans willing to perform in public in their bathing suits - and audience members willing to fork over $10 to watch them. The mystery deepens with the discovery that a large proportion of the volunteers are teachers and scientists, two professions that emphasize brains over brawn.

"You'd be surprised how easy it is to cast our shows," says show producer Amanda Richardson, adding that a participant in a recent show uncannily resembled the rotund Jerry Garcia, the late lead guitarist for The Grateful Dead.

"Fluid Movement is kind of contagious," Richardson says. "Once you see someone else who doesn't have a perfect body perform in a swimsuit, it's very liberating."

Audience demand has only increased in recent years, to the extent that about 2,500 tickets are sold to the six performances.

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