Wilson’s rich and deep-throated, bemoaning voice is mesmerizingly raw and sincere in a weave of beats, sounds and words that inevitably lends viewers an experience that is hypnotizing and contagious. Photo by Ruby Washington for The New York Times

In simple black clothes (button-down shirts and loose-fitting pants), performers Rhetta Aleong, Lawrence Harding and Reggie Wilson step barefoot across the stage to sit in a crescent of three seats facing the audience to begin what would be a hypnotizing yet revelatory roller coaster of performances. African-American performer and choreographer Reggie Wilson presents theRevisitation, which showcases a variety of snippets, not exclusive to dance performances, in an attempt to bring viewers on a heartfelt biographical journey.

“Let me teach you a song,” says Wilson to audience members. The interactive nature of theRevisitation allows Wilson to render his performance to be more accessible to those beyond the regular dance performance viewer, but not overly accessible to leave those in the front-row gripping the edges of their seats. Amiably welcoming late-comers to enter the theater, Wilson garners a sphere of trust through audience participation in singing and setting rhythms to songs that are personal to Wilson’s childhood and family, as well as insightful of his explorations in countries of the African Diaspora. The trio’s intertwined voices and creative hands in setting rhythms render a mesmerizing first impression, leaving viewers at thirst for more.

Cleverly placed at the beginning, the trio’s songs, though bittersweet and playful, are a harbinger of the remaining performances in theRevisitation. As Harding lovingly croons “all for you, baby all for you, you took the razor and cut my throat, you took me out to the back way … send you to USA, give my precious life up to you” in a tune suitable for lullabies, the audience is reminded of the innocent devastations that often come with the history of a culture – an underlying theme that is present throughout theRevisitation.

As Aleong, Harding and Wilson leave the stage, the curtains are drawn back to present an impressively large area of space in which a man and woman (dressed in brown and purple, respectively) begin The Duet by dancing slowly and in synchrony. The ever-revolving spotlight also dances across the stage, occasionally reaching the couple and acting as a sun to oversee the daily activities of the dancers. Upon being out of synchrony, the couple’s forceful and aggressive nature surfaces as they interact adamantly with each other – fighting, restricting, bullying, chasing and jabbing fingers. Yet, the playfulness of their actions also remains. Beyond the conflicts and tension, there is a distinguishable trust between the two that is ever-increasingly built and conveyed through an excess of eye contact, imitation, physical leanings and dependency until the ultimate revelation comes when the woman seemingly unknowingly falls into the man’s arms and discovers the way they were meant to be – together.

One of the last performances, entitled INTRODUCTION, and performed by Wilson himself, brings forth the concept of moaning that many African-American churchgoers implemented in an effort to prevent the devil from understanding their prayers. INTRODUCTION soon morphs unexpectedly from a session of conversing about Wilson’s childhood experience with African-American churchgoers to a lively form of beat-boxing and storytelling as he traces his own roots. Wilson’s rich and deep-throated, bemoaning voice is mesmerizingly raw and sincere in a weave of beats, sounds and words that inevitably lends viewers an experience that is hypnotizing and contagious. Wilson’s use of his inner voice and aspirated breathing presents an omnipresent nature that overwhelms the relatively small size of the theater. His performance of spiritual traveling not only resuscitates the tradition and roots of his culture, but also brings forth a suffering that is readily contagious and visceral as he ends on these notes: “No one wants to travel alone; everyone wants a companion.”

Watch Reggie Wilson’s “Big Brick – a man’s piece”