Biking into downtown for TBA 2007’s inaugural night of performances, I was detoured by the closure of the accursed Burnside Bridge. Sweaty, panicky, in my PICA-approved navy-blue-sweater-‘n’-collar combo (with optional mushroom safety helmet!), I bounced and turned illegally over sidewalks and curbs, finally heading against traffic over the steel bridge (not an entirely recommended endeavor) to pull up at the Armory just as the teeming line of ticket-holders was streaming into the Gerding Theater for Marc Bamuthi Joseph.

The line was intimidating, but inside the spacious theater, there were open seats all over the place. I procured one smack in the middle, about six rows back; a choice view as evidenced by the photographer who had set up directly next to me. The whirring and winding of his digital camera was actually quite loud, and he took at least 700 photos throughout the hour-long performance.

I’m way out of the loop these days, but this was actually my first time inside the revamped Armory. I wasn’t too impressed. The Gerding seemed a perfectly functional, reasonably comfortable performance space that had all the pizzazz and intriguing design elements of a well-done college auditorium. I’m sure its technical elements are unsurpassed and so forth, but in terms of aesthetics, I could have been anywhere.

Marc Bamuthi Joseph, however, was impressive. Delivering the break/s, which was billed as a “work in progress,” he traversed the stage with sweaty, relentless energy, using fluid choreography as a physical manifestation of his equally stellar verbal acuity. At one point, Joseph alluded that he considers himself primarily a poet (in a very funny and moving story about traveling to rural Africa to assist a white woman working against female circumcision rituals), but I consider him to be more of a storyteller, with elements of poetry worked in. In fact, the more “poetic” segments of break/s weren’t nearly as effective as the moments when Joseph simply cut through the flow and delivered straight-up prose narrative. At the show’s outset, he launched into a growling, skulking personification of (if I remember right) the notion of intolerance (or some comparable concept with a negative connotation). He proceeded to discuss the notion’s “family tree,” saying how racism had a baby with something else, and he was born, and then he met up with capitalism, and it all was just too heavy-handed and even kind of uninspired—though Bamuthi’s intense body language and vocal presence made even this part at least interesting.

The show feels like a work in progress. It’s very short and its separate parts never really form into a cohesive whole. Joseph tells stories about becoming a father for the first time, about visiting a happenin’ club in Japan and finding that nobody there cared about his status as a true representative of American hiphop, and about growing up in New York. A college-educated black man, he seems to be searching for his place in an art form he loves, but feels slightly outside of, set apart by the perspective of scholarship. The break/s feels like the performative equivalent of a man thinking out loud; he doesn’t know where he’s going or why he’s even trying to get there, but it’s fun watching him try to figure it out.

The technical aspects of this production also feel very unpolished. Joseph has a couple turntables set up, which is promising, but doesn’t use them very much. He executes a nifty bit of spontaneous beat-making at one point, using a looping device and multi-track recorder, but the point of the exercise is elusive beyond the fact that it’s kind of cool to watch. Later, he spins about 10 seconds of a Michael Jackson song along with a few other tracks, and that’s it for the turntables. Supposedly, the finished piece will have much more sophisticated multimedia elements, including video clips that will be manipulated by “veejays” in an improvised fashion, changing from night to night. For now, it feels tacked on and unnecessary, distracting from Joseph’s ample abilities with his body and voice. Until he works out the bells and whistles, and finds a compelling reason to include them at all, he should stick with just telling good stories, and moving fluidly and poetically through different states of being. Turntables or no, he is a riveting and immensely appealing performer.

Marc Bamuthi Joseph performs at the Gerding Theater, 128 NW 11th, tonight and tomorrow, Sept 9, at 8:30 pm. Buy tickets.