Lansburgh Theatre, Washington, DC
March 14, 2010
The relationship between narrative and abstract dance is tough to navigate. So, we still cling to a very basic differentiation between the two: in narrative dance, the choreography unlocks the premise, and in abstract dance, the choreography is the premise. This statement seems harmless, but it unwittingly separates content and form into two competitive camps. This struggle for artistic worth is fueled by scholars, theorists and academics. While they are stuck bickering over these stringent categorizations, choreography has moved on. Most dance exists somewhere in the middle, blurring the line between narrative and abstract dance a bit more every day. CityDance Ensemble's recent concert, Catalyst, showcased five works that revealed both story and structural elements. All five pursued some message, whether linear, conceptual, or based in imagery. Concurrently, they all committed to a structural interdependence of music and dance, reflecting musical form within choreography.
I had the opportunity last month to preview Little Adorations and Entangled, two works by Paul Gordon Emerson that examine flirtation: the fun, the risk, the excitement and the abandon. At this weekend's performance, the musical polyphony was still well-integrated into Little Adorations. At times, the three dancers had their own lines of movement and at others, they came together in unison. This is the magic of polyphonic technique - that voices that can continually merge and separate while still remaining a cohesive unit. Emerson has a real gift for reflecting this complex musical form in his choreography. When I last saw Entangled, I was so captivated by the technique of Elizabeth Gahl and Maleek Mahkail Washington that I missed the relationship between the choreography and the music. This time I could see that their dance was like another musical instrument; they added to and interacted with the live jazz ensemble. Live music is odd component in dance performance. We want it to be present, but usually, there is very little (in fact, almost no) acknowledgement between the dancers and the musicians. In Entangled, the musicians and dancers worked together, to create a truly collaborative artistic experience. I have only seen this done successfully one other time, in Balanchine's Duo Concertant.
+1/-1 is brand new (Catalyst was its preview performance), but already it is my favorite Christopher K. Morgan piece. From a musical perspective, the staccatos and accented notes in the score were equally indicated by percussive movements in the body, particularly the recurring motif of shuffling jumps in parallel second. Morgan offered a brief comment in the program, explaining the conceptual side of this work: the addition and subtraction of dancers from the choreographic space. I love this idea because it takes the rehearsal process and places it into the performance realm in a very unique way. Choreographers experiment, develop and re-work sections to discover what can be said with more or with less. But, audiences rarely get a chance to see any part of that developmental phase. Here, Morgan is combining 'the creating' with 'the creation'. On yet another level, +1/-1 spoke to everyday relationships. The choreography displayed a genuine sense of meeting, relating and then parting ways; an experience that can be joyful, sad or frightening. Morgan's +1/-1 is a substantial work.
Two divergent Paul Taylor pieces completed the evening, Last Look and Images. For me, Taylor's work always demonstrates a strong narrative element - usually not a linear story, instead, a significant conceptual basis. Though this time, his commitment to musical form also stood out in both dances. Last Look is a frightening descent into the human psyche. I'm still not sure whether it is a comment on insanity, psychosis or self-loathing, but whichever, it is dark, dark, dark. The trills and arpeggiation in Donald York's music were imitated by the twitching and writhing onstage. The most ingenious marriage of music and dance in Last Look occurred in the 4th position changement jumps (which were performed overtop of dancers laying on the ground). These happened in concert with sforzando chords in the music. The immediate accent, followed by the abrupt pull back of sforzando lived in those jumps. The second Taylor work, Images, had snapshots of and glimpses into the pioneers of modern dance. We saw the tilt, contraction and spiral of Graham, the straight line profile of Denishawn, and the chorus work of Humphrey. Each picture of modern dance was its own complete entity with a very clear beginning and ending. There was little transitional material in Taylor's choreography, which is very much the same as Debussy's music. Within one composition, it is characteristic for Debussy to introduce and complete a section, and then move to a completely new and different idea, usually with a unique time signature, key and theme. Images had vignettes of modern dance styles that fit well with the vignettes of Debussy's music.
Dance scholars love to debate: ballet versus modern, interdisciplinary versus new media, content versus form and Balanchine versus everyone else. There is nothing inherently wrong with these arguments, except that our field is moving on and leaving us behind. CityDance's Catalyst illustrates that choreography exists at every point along a spectrum. Polarized views of performance are dated. Dance theory must be flexible and adapt; maintaining the status quo is pointless.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Monday, March 08, 2010
Black Grace
George Mason University Center for the Arts-Fairfax, Virginia
March 6, 2010
This weekend, George Mason University's Center for the Arts presented Black Grace, a New Zealand dance company that seeks to blend the contemporary and the cultural. Samoan and Pacific Island ethnic dance permeated the program, though the message I saw in Black Grace's presentation was one of common ground. Their movement, though distinctive, demonstrated that dance is a shared understanding; culturally and stylistically.
The use of body and foot percussion was a theme that ran through many of the pieces with all sorts of snapping, beating and clapping sequences. Physical percussion is unique because it is both dance and music at the same time. Of course, the choreography of Black Grace revealed the importance of body percussion in Pacific Island culture, yet it was also reminiscent of tap, Kathak, Irish step-dancing, Appalachian clogging, and Croatian folk-dance. What emerged from the stage was a rich cultural mosaic with an incredible dualism: the importance of diversity combined with a sense of unity. Dance that is linked to a specific cultural or geographical area still shares movement vocabulary with other dance forms, transcending boundaries.
The body percussion sections that were performed a cappella (Minoi and Pati Pati) were the highlights of the show. It is incredibly difficult, even for a professional troupe, to maintain consistency and unison without accompaniment. All it takes is one dancer accelerating slightly, and before you know it, the speed of the whole section is akin to a skier racing down an icy hill. Black Grace kept their unaccompanied body percussion incredibly accurate.
After intermission, the company danced two excerpts from a larger work, Gathering Clouds. The second, Keep Honour Bright, retained many of the cultural elements introduced in the first half of the program, but this time more heavily weighted in a modern dance framework. The structure and juxtaposition of the movement and the music literally took center stage. Set to Bach's Goldberg Variations, the subject and countersubject in his composition were equally present in the dancers' steps. Neil Ieremia, Black Grace's Artistic Director, has the necessary choreographic skill to shape movement that can reflect the complexity of Bach's polyphony. Mark Morris possesses a similar finesse with music and dance, though Ieremia was not afraid to add concept and imagery to his exploration of the score. The movement and the music were compelling in their own right, yet Ieremia surpassed his peers by adding a narrative dimension.
Between most of the pieces, Ieremia came out to speak to the audience. Usually I can do without this kind of interaction. Choreographers tend to introduce their work in too much detail and as a result, I find that my interpretation becomes clouded. I end up seeing what they tell me I should see rather than what emerges from an unfettered viewing. However, this time it didn't bother me because Ieremia was absolutely delightful. He spoke so easily and humorously to the group, it was as if he was having a one-on-one conversation with every individual there. There were no barriers, he was just talking - about his family, his heritage, his culture and his choreography, without affectation or pretentiousness. He did give a little more description of the dances than I would have liked, but his demeanor was so genuine that I didn't care. And, with his small company (most of them performed in every piece), these interludes were necessary so that the dancers could change costumes.
As I see dance from different parts of the world, I become more and more convinced that the performing arts can teach in a way that other mediums cannot. The body, moving in space, is something true across many cultures. Companies like Black Grace communicate that our similarities run deeper than our differences.
March 6, 2010
This weekend, George Mason University's Center for the Arts presented Black Grace, a New Zealand dance company that seeks to blend the contemporary and the cultural. Samoan and Pacific Island ethnic dance permeated the program, though the message I saw in Black Grace's presentation was one of common ground. Their movement, though distinctive, demonstrated that dance is a shared understanding; culturally and stylistically.
The use of body and foot percussion was a theme that ran through many of the pieces with all sorts of snapping, beating and clapping sequences. Physical percussion is unique because it is both dance and music at the same time. Of course, the choreography of Black Grace revealed the importance of body percussion in Pacific Island culture, yet it was also reminiscent of tap, Kathak, Irish step-dancing, Appalachian clogging, and Croatian folk-dance. What emerged from the stage was a rich cultural mosaic with an incredible dualism: the importance of diversity combined with a sense of unity. Dance that is linked to a specific cultural or geographical area still shares movement vocabulary with other dance forms, transcending boundaries.
The body percussion sections that were performed a cappella (Minoi and Pati Pati) were the highlights of the show. It is incredibly difficult, even for a professional troupe, to maintain consistency and unison without accompaniment. All it takes is one dancer accelerating slightly, and before you know it, the speed of the whole section is akin to a skier racing down an icy hill. Black Grace kept their unaccompanied body percussion incredibly accurate.
After intermission, the company danced two excerpts from a larger work, Gathering Clouds. The second, Keep Honour Bright, retained many of the cultural elements introduced in the first half of the program, but this time more heavily weighted in a modern dance framework. The structure and juxtaposition of the movement and the music literally took center stage. Set to Bach's Goldberg Variations, the subject and countersubject in his composition were equally present in the dancers' steps. Neil Ieremia, Black Grace's Artistic Director, has the necessary choreographic skill to shape movement that can reflect the complexity of Bach's polyphony. Mark Morris possesses a similar finesse with music and dance, though Ieremia was not afraid to add concept and imagery to his exploration of the score. The movement and the music were compelling in their own right, yet Ieremia surpassed his peers by adding a narrative dimension.
Between most of the pieces, Ieremia came out to speak to the audience. Usually I can do without this kind of interaction. Choreographers tend to introduce their work in too much detail and as a result, I find that my interpretation becomes clouded. I end up seeing what they tell me I should see rather than what emerges from an unfettered viewing. However, this time it didn't bother me because Ieremia was absolutely delightful. He spoke so easily and humorously to the group, it was as if he was having a one-on-one conversation with every individual there. There were no barriers, he was just talking - about his family, his heritage, his culture and his choreography, without affectation or pretentiousness. He did give a little more description of the dances than I would have liked, but his demeanor was so genuine that I didn't care. And, with his small company (most of them performed in every piece), these interludes were necessary so that the dancers could change costumes.
As I see dance from different parts of the world, I become more and more convinced that the performing arts can teach in a way that other mediums cannot. The body, moving in space, is something true across many cultures. Companies like Black Grace communicate that our similarities run deeper than our differences.
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
The Washington Ballet-The Great Gatsby
choreography by Septime Webre
The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, Washington, D.C.
February 27, 2010
I love watching ballet, but I rarely describe it as fun. Whether abstract or narrative, many ballets are just not that entertaining, instead focused on the complex, obscure and sometimes somber. These serious undertones and overtones can be a bit of a downer. Art should challenge us, but is it too much to ask for there to be some good old-fashioned revelry mixed in alongside the doom and gloom? In The Washington Ballet's production of Septime Webre's The Great Gatsby, I saw firsthand that fun and depth do not have to be mutually exclusive nor in a contentious relationship. A full-length narrative ballet can actually be fun and thought-provoking at the same time! Deeper issues were treated with due diligence, without sacrificing amusement or frivolity. The sets, costumes, live jazz and outstanding vocalists combined with Webre's choreography to create a stylistic sizzle appropriate to this time of luxury and lavishness. And, the consequences of extravagance were also well-represented in moments of regret, loss, sorrow, heartache, and infidelity. These characters and their relationships are scarred and damaged, yet in the midst of that darkness, parties raged on. The decadence was not only to blame for their reality, but also an escape from their reality.
The Great Gatsby was a stage full of visual splendor and the choreography was equally opulent, specifically the lush footwork. With the women, Webre explored the foot's full range of motion, utilizing flatfoot, demi-pointe and pointework. Daisy's choreography (danced Saturday night by Elizabeth Gaither) had beautiful demi-pointe turns and flatfoot poses in attitude. In ballet, we are so used to seeing women glued to full pointe that it is easy to forget the elegance that flat and demi-pointe options can provide.
The men's choreography was infused with more petit allegro sequences than I have seen in a long time. These intricate, quick phrases skim the floor with small jumps, quick demi-plies and multiple beats. When done well, petit allegro is captivating and flashy, very appropriately matched to the story of The Great Gatsby. As Nick, Jonathan Jordan's opening solo was the epitome of debonair charisma, not because of his spectacular big jumps, but because of his detailed batterie (entrechat quartre, assemble, entrechat trois). The combination of the down (his plie) and the up (his petit allegro) was sumptuously tactile. Another marvelous example of petit allegro occurred during one of the many party scenes where four men danced a combination with their hands in their pockets. I still don't have the words to complement their series of brisees. This incredibly difficult jump places the body weight forward in space as the the back foot beats the other leg in front (all while airborne) and then lands in the back again. Doing one of these jumps properly is tough, but these guys did half a dozen or more in a row, with no help from their arms. Wow!
This ballet also confirmed for me that Brooklyn Mack is the most outstanding male dancer in the Washington Ballet. He has it all - incomparable technique and dramatic strength in character portrayals. As George Wilson, his Valley of the Ashes dance was amazing, but his final solo after Myrtle's death was transcendent. It was pure anger, pure fire, pure desperation and pure sadness all manifested in dance. His choreography was an explosion of all these emotions.
Hopefully as this new ballet continues to develop in the repertory, two issues will be addressed. First was the character of Jordan Baker. Jordan was not well-integrated into the ballet. She was present in most of the scenes, though it was not always clear why she was there. Yes, we knew she was Daisy's friend and confidant, but even that relationship was not well-established. The part was danced beautifully by Jade Payette, her performance was not the problem. At best, the treatment of this character in the ballet was peripheral and her role in the story unclear. My second issue is nit-picky, but definitely requires mention. There was one particular group sequence that had the party guests in a wedge formation, and one female dancer was at the point of the wedge, leading in a sense. This particular dancer was having a great night for balance on Saturday. With every turn and pose, she was undoubtedly on her leg. Coming out of each step, she was able to hold her position longer than the rest of the group. In solo circumstances, this would be a positive thing, but when you are supposed to be in unison with other dancers, indulging in that extra moment is not a good idea. She was at the very front and at least a half a beat late for the entire variation. With everyone else being right on time, it just looked messy.
These two small observances certainly do not detract from the wonderful achievement of Webre's The Great Gatsby. His rendition told this story of longing with equal parts drama and jubilance. New productions all go through a period of growth and change after their premiere, and I look forward to the next iteration of this beautiful ballet. If for no other reason than reminding me that going to the ballet can be fun.
The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, Washington, D.C.
February 27, 2010
I love watching ballet, but I rarely describe it as fun. Whether abstract or narrative, many ballets are just not that entertaining, instead focused on the complex, obscure and sometimes somber. These serious undertones and overtones can be a bit of a downer. Art should challenge us, but is it too much to ask for there to be some good old-fashioned revelry mixed in alongside the doom and gloom? In The Washington Ballet's production of Septime Webre's The Great Gatsby, I saw firsthand that fun and depth do not have to be mutually exclusive nor in a contentious relationship. A full-length narrative ballet can actually be fun and thought-provoking at the same time! Deeper issues were treated with due diligence, without sacrificing amusement or frivolity. The sets, costumes, live jazz and outstanding vocalists combined with Webre's choreography to create a stylistic sizzle appropriate to this time of luxury and lavishness. And, the consequences of extravagance were also well-represented in moments of regret, loss, sorrow, heartache, and infidelity. These characters and their relationships are scarred and damaged, yet in the midst of that darkness, parties raged on. The decadence was not only to blame for their reality, but also an escape from their reality.
The Great Gatsby was a stage full of visual splendor and the choreography was equally opulent, specifically the lush footwork. With the women, Webre explored the foot's full range of motion, utilizing flatfoot, demi-pointe and pointework. Daisy's choreography (danced Saturday night by Elizabeth Gaither) had beautiful demi-pointe turns and flatfoot poses in attitude. In ballet, we are so used to seeing women glued to full pointe that it is easy to forget the elegance that flat and demi-pointe options can provide.
The men's choreography was infused with more petit allegro sequences than I have seen in a long time. These intricate, quick phrases skim the floor with small jumps, quick demi-plies and multiple beats. When done well, petit allegro is captivating and flashy, very appropriately matched to the story of The Great Gatsby. As Nick, Jonathan Jordan's opening solo was the epitome of debonair charisma, not because of his spectacular big jumps, but because of his detailed batterie (entrechat quartre, assemble, entrechat trois). The combination of the down (his plie) and the up (his petit allegro) was sumptuously tactile. Another marvelous example of petit allegro occurred during one of the many party scenes where four men danced a combination with their hands in their pockets. I still don't have the words to complement their series of brisees. This incredibly difficult jump places the body weight forward in space as the the back foot beats the other leg in front (all while airborne) and then lands in the back again. Doing one of these jumps properly is tough, but these guys did half a dozen or more in a row, with no help from their arms. Wow!
This ballet also confirmed for me that Brooklyn Mack is the most outstanding male dancer in the Washington Ballet. He has it all - incomparable technique and dramatic strength in character portrayals. As George Wilson, his Valley of the Ashes dance was amazing, but his final solo after Myrtle's death was transcendent. It was pure anger, pure fire, pure desperation and pure sadness all manifested in dance. His choreography was an explosion of all these emotions.
Hopefully as this new ballet continues to develop in the repertory, two issues will be addressed. First was the character of Jordan Baker. Jordan was not well-integrated into the ballet. She was present in most of the scenes, though it was not always clear why she was there. Yes, we knew she was Daisy's friend and confidant, but even that relationship was not well-established. The part was danced beautifully by Jade Payette, her performance was not the problem. At best, the treatment of this character in the ballet was peripheral and her role in the story unclear. My second issue is nit-picky, but definitely requires mention. There was one particular group sequence that had the party guests in a wedge formation, and one female dancer was at the point of the wedge, leading in a sense. This particular dancer was having a great night for balance on Saturday. With every turn and pose, she was undoubtedly on her leg. Coming out of each step, she was able to hold her position longer than the rest of the group. In solo circumstances, this would be a positive thing, but when you are supposed to be in unison with other dancers, indulging in that extra moment is not a good idea. She was at the very front and at least a half a beat late for the entire variation. With everyone else being right on time, it just looked messy.
These two small observances certainly do not detract from the wonderful achievement of Webre's The Great Gatsby. His rendition told this story of longing with equal parts drama and jubilance. New productions all go through a period of growth and change after their premiere, and I look forward to the next iteration of this beautiful ballet. If for no other reason than reminding me that going to the ballet can be fun.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
CityDance Ensemble-The Embassy of Finland
The Finnish Embassy is a consummate environmental model in Washington DC, recently receiving LEED certification from the U.S. Green Building Council. The Embassy has clearly worked hard for this significant recognition and last night their green building was all party, party; a much-deserved celebration. Guests were greeted by inviting and courteous staff, amazing food, martinis fashioned with LED ice cubes and exceptional DC entertainment: CityDance Ensemble.
The company previewed two excerpts from Paul Gordon Emerson's Little Adorations, which will have its official premiere at their next concert - “Catalyst” at The Harman Center for the Arts (March 13th and 14th). First was a sexy duet for Elizabeth Gahl and Maleek Mahkail Washington. These two dancers are well suited for each other and a joy to watch in this enticing pas de deux. Washington is commanding and edgy, while still incorporating his smoothness and gallantry into the choreography. Gahl displays remarkable fortitude in this contemporary repertoire without sacrificing a subtle, soft, playful quality. And, her strength is no joke. There were two particular moments (in second and in arabesque) where she balanced on one leg, on a very high demi-pointe. She was so secure and so centered that she looked like she could have happily stayed there forever. But, more important, Elizabeth Gahl shows that strength and vulnerability are not at all contentious entities. She is compelling on stage because she harnesses both, displaying multi-faceted dancing with genuine depth.
The second excerpt featured the trio of Giselle Alvarez, Jason Garcia Ignacio and Kathryn Pilkington. They played off of each other in movements that I thought looked impish and a little mischievous. The most exciting moment of this pas de trois was the cannon where each began a particular choreographic phrase at a different time. This is visually interesting in its own right, but it also really highlighted the polyphonic texture of the chosen jazz music. Usually when counterpoint and fugal structures in music are discussed, it is in reference to the Baroque period (~1600-1750). But, this notion of several different voices, instruments and musical lines that are both independent and interdependent at the same is much more extensive than we realize. The dance for this trio of performers really spoke to this issue through a marriage of choreographic tools and musical form.
The festivities continued on after the performance, when the guests took to the dance floor. The whole evening was so full of true celebration and it was fitting that everyone got to express themselves through music and motion.
The company previewed two excerpts from Paul Gordon Emerson's Little Adorations, which will have its official premiere at their next concert - “Catalyst” at The Harman Center for the Arts (March 13th and 14th). First was a sexy duet for Elizabeth Gahl and Maleek Mahkail Washington. These two dancers are well suited for each other and a joy to watch in this enticing pas de deux. Washington is commanding and edgy, while still incorporating his smoothness and gallantry into the choreography. Gahl displays remarkable fortitude in this contemporary repertoire without sacrificing a subtle, soft, playful quality. And, her strength is no joke. There were two particular moments (in second and in arabesque) where she balanced on one leg, on a very high demi-pointe. She was so secure and so centered that she looked like she could have happily stayed there forever. But, more important, Elizabeth Gahl shows that strength and vulnerability are not at all contentious entities. She is compelling on stage because she harnesses both, displaying multi-faceted dancing with genuine depth.
The second excerpt featured the trio of Giselle Alvarez, Jason Garcia Ignacio and Kathryn Pilkington. They played off of each other in movements that I thought looked impish and a little mischievous. The most exciting moment of this pas de trois was the cannon where each began a particular choreographic phrase at a different time. This is visually interesting in its own right, but it also really highlighted the polyphonic texture of the chosen jazz music. Usually when counterpoint and fugal structures in music are discussed, it is in reference to the Baroque period (~1600-1750). But, this notion of several different voices, instruments and musical lines that are both independent and interdependent at the same is much more extensive than we realize. The dance for this trio of performers really spoke to this issue through a marriage of choreographic tools and musical form.
The festivities continued on after the performance, when the guests took to the dance floor. The whole evening was so full of true celebration and it was fitting that everyone got to express themselves through music and motion.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Jason and Friends-An Evening of Choreography by Jason Garcia Ignacio
Dance Place-Washington, D.C.
February 20, 2010
Throughout his book, Choreography Observed, writer Jack Anderson poses important and challenging questions about the act of watching dance. Of all the issues this important book addresses, the exploration of focus specifically spoke to me. Are we visually drawn to choreography, to particular dancers, to the group dynamics or to the overall picture of theatrical movement? The answer for me, and for most I would guess, is that it depends. Sometimes it is the choreographic structure, or a dancer who distinguishes themselves, or the general architecture of the work. But, the more interesting underlying issue is when we make the decision of where our focus will be. There are those times when a piece or a company holds no preconceptions for you, and the recipient of your attention unfolds in real time, during the performance. I think this does happen, but it is rare. Rather, as viewers, we have often decided where our focus will fall before the performance occurs (a favorite choreographer, dancer, or variation). What we will watch has already been edited in our minds before actually taking a seat in the theater. This isn't a bad thing, it's just reality. This was the case for me at Dance Place for Jason and Friends, an evening of choreography by Jason Garcia Ignacio. I knew that there would be many elements worthy of commentary but my mind was fixed on the choreography even before the houselights went down.
The first half of the program was comprised of five shorter works, which all pointed towards the breadth in Ignacio's choreographic interest. In line with this expansiveness, many performers from the CityDance Ensemble's family participated in the evening: Conservatory students, CityDance 2, and all eight members of CityDance Ensemble. Hourglass (2009) is a captivating duet for Ignacio and Delphina Parenti that examines the relationship between ballet, modern and Kathak. The music is Kathak-fusion (if that label exists), and three integral components of this traditional Indian dance were present throughout the piece – fast pirouettes, precise foot percussion and attention to facial and eye movements. The Conservatory students performed another 2009 piece, Stampede, which again was influenced by several different styles of dance; both hula and jazz were particularly apparent in the movements and sequences. These younger performers did a great job, although struggled at times with their group spacing.
The premiere works also kept to the notions of scope and variety. I don't know if I just have Olympics on the brain right now but Heart of the Talisman, a solo for Elizabeth Gahl, reminded me of a brilliant gymnastic floor routine. The lighting and costume design were consistent with this conclusion: Gahl's leotard was very gymnastic team-like and the light was projected on the floor as a box, creating boundaries and parameters. I loved this inventive take on movement! The dance was beautifully performed and choreographed; very controlled, with every movement going through the same process: point of origin, development and point of completion. Toe The Line, a group piece for five women touched on the still simmering debate between modern dance and ballet. The performers wore long, flowing dresses, with their hair down, unencumbered. It felt a little like the ballerinas from Balanchine's Serenade were breaking out of their shell. They still had their ballet technique; exquisite developpes ecarte, and rond de jambe en l'air, yet still a tension and yearning for freer movement: running; flexed feet. The night I saw it, some of the five dancers were better able to demonstrate the tricky choreography than others. Nevertheless, Toe The Line has a valuable contribution to make to the issue of movement vocabulary. Morph, a solo which Ignacio performed, had the same control as Heart of the Talisman, but with a more alluring undercurrent. The piece had some amazing acrobatics and capoeira tricks in it, yet what I saw was accumulation. Not in the sense of adding movement to movement. Instead, Ignacio was exploring what each body part could do from small gestures to full range of motion.
The second half was made up of a longer work, The Mountain, originally commissioned by The Kennedy Center. I reviewed this piece back in September, and upon this second viewing, still share many of my initial thoughts. But, there was something different this time that requires mention. In Dance Place, the audience has a closer proximity to the stage, and thus, to the performance. This gave a much more personal viewing of The Mountain. The intended messiness of the stage was tangible, as was the joy evident amongst this layer of dirt. It emanated from the dancers in a way that I couldn't see when I was further away at The Kennedy Center.
In the past six months, I have had the opportunity to see Jason Garcia Ignacio perform onstage in several different concerts and no matter the piece, the passion, skill and risk in his dancing has always impressed me. This was still very true in this weekend's performance of Jason and Friends at Dance Place. But, this time, I went to see the choreography. And to my delight, the six works that he presented also demonstrated these three qualities (passion, skill and risk). It is not always true that gifted dancers show significant promise as choreographers; Jason Garcia Ignacio does. I look forward to watching him progress in both aspects of his career: as a dancer and as a choreographer.
February 20, 2010
Throughout his book, Choreography Observed, writer Jack Anderson poses important and challenging questions about the act of watching dance. Of all the issues this important book addresses, the exploration of focus specifically spoke to me. Are we visually drawn to choreography, to particular dancers, to the group dynamics or to the overall picture of theatrical movement? The answer for me, and for most I would guess, is that it depends. Sometimes it is the choreographic structure, or a dancer who distinguishes themselves, or the general architecture of the work. But, the more interesting underlying issue is when we make the decision of where our focus will be. There are those times when a piece or a company holds no preconceptions for you, and the recipient of your attention unfolds in real time, during the performance. I think this does happen, but it is rare. Rather, as viewers, we have often decided where our focus will fall before the performance occurs (a favorite choreographer, dancer, or variation). What we will watch has already been edited in our minds before actually taking a seat in the theater. This isn't a bad thing, it's just reality. This was the case for me at Dance Place for Jason and Friends, an evening of choreography by Jason Garcia Ignacio. I knew that there would be many elements worthy of commentary but my mind was fixed on the choreography even before the houselights went down.
The first half of the program was comprised of five shorter works, which all pointed towards the breadth in Ignacio's choreographic interest. In line with this expansiveness, many performers from the CityDance Ensemble's family participated in the evening: Conservatory students, CityDance 2, and all eight members of CityDance Ensemble. Hourglass (2009) is a captivating duet for Ignacio and Delphina Parenti that examines the relationship between ballet, modern and Kathak. The music is Kathak-fusion (if that label exists), and three integral components of this traditional Indian dance were present throughout the piece – fast pirouettes, precise foot percussion and attention to facial and eye movements. The Conservatory students performed another 2009 piece, Stampede, which again was influenced by several different styles of dance; both hula and jazz were particularly apparent in the movements and sequences. These younger performers did a great job, although struggled at times with their group spacing.
The premiere works also kept to the notions of scope and variety. I don't know if I just have Olympics on the brain right now but Heart of the Talisman, a solo for Elizabeth Gahl, reminded me of a brilliant gymnastic floor routine. The lighting and costume design were consistent with this conclusion: Gahl's leotard was very gymnastic team-like and the light was projected on the floor as a box, creating boundaries and parameters. I loved this inventive take on movement! The dance was beautifully performed and choreographed; very controlled, with every movement going through the same process: point of origin, development and point of completion. Toe The Line, a group piece for five women touched on the still simmering debate between modern dance and ballet. The performers wore long, flowing dresses, with their hair down, unencumbered. It felt a little like the ballerinas from Balanchine's Serenade were breaking out of their shell. They still had their ballet technique; exquisite developpes ecarte, and rond de jambe en l'air, yet still a tension and yearning for freer movement: running; flexed feet. The night I saw it, some of the five dancers were better able to demonstrate the tricky choreography than others. Nevertheless, Toe The Line has a valuable contribution to make to the issue of movement vocabulary. Morph, a solo which Ignacio performed, had the same control as Heart of the Talisman, but with a more alluring undercurrent. The piece had some amazing acrobatics and capoeira tricks in it, yet what I saw was accumulation. Not in the sense of adding movement to movement. Instead, Ignacio was exploring what each body part could do from small gestures to full range of motion.
The second half was made up of a longer work, The Mountain, originally commissioned by The Kennedy Center. I reviewed this piece back in September, and upon this second viewing, still share many of my initial thoughts. But, there was something different this time that requires mention. In Dance Place, the audience has a closer proximity to the stage, and thus, to the performance. This gave a much more personal viewing of The Mountain. The intended messiness of the stage was tangible, as was the joy evident amongst this layer of dirt. It emanated from the dancers in a way that I couldn't see when I was further away at The Kennedy Center.
In the past six months, I have had the opportunity to see Jason Garcia Ignacio perform onstage in several different concerts and no matter the piece, the passion, skill and risk in his dancing has always impressed me. This was still very true in this weekend's performance of Jason and Friends at Dance Place. But, this time, I went to see the choreography. And to my delight, the six works that he presented also demonstrated these three qualities (passion, skill and risk). It is not always true that gifted dancers show significant promise as choreographers; Jason Garcia Ignacio does. I look forward to watching him progress in both aspects of his career: as a dancer and as a choreographer.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Idan Cohen-Dancing Israeli Identity: Looking Backward, Looking Forward
American University-Katzen Arts Center
February 18, 2010
A good dance lecture-demonstration is not easy to find. Inherently, its formula can be fraught with problems: a forced and contrived sharing of ideas, too much talk and not enough movement; all choreography and no framework. Finding a balance in this format is tough, and American University succeeded with Idan Cohen-Dancing Israeli Identity: Looking Backward, Looking Forward. This evening had it all: a brilliant, eloquent and generous choreographer in conversation with a thoughtful, passionate professor and historian (too often, a rarity in academic circles).
Dr. Nina Spiegel began by taking the audience on an informative journey exploring some general aspects of Israeli culture, while accenting the expression of it through dance. In one session, it is impossible to relay everything that makes a people unique, but the main point that I took from her lecture was the strong presence of dualism in Israeli culture. The audience then was able to see a tangible example of this dualism as Idan Cohen took the stage in an excerpt from 3 pieced swan, op. 1.
The short sequence that Cohen performed was a staccato myriad of animal-like choreography. He so integrated crawling, rolling, and arching into his movement vocabulary that at times, he appeared to be a true member of the cat, reptile or amphibian families. In the middle of his solo, he also introduced some more fluid passages, still strongly linked to animals, but of a very different quality. Here we saw circular head rolls and serpentine massaging of the spine playing against the still present angular motions. All the choreography shared a very strong element of grounding; a passionate yearning for connection to the earth.
Cohen and Spiegel then reflected on this work as well as other dances shown on film, relating all to Israeli culture. It was thrilling to see two scholars committed to discovering and sharing these connections. The most interesting analysis (for me, anyway) was how dualism -which we learned is deeply rooted in Israeli culture - is evident when comparing 3 pieced swan to the original and quintessential ballet, Swan Lake.
Spiegel highlighted several differences between Cohen's piece and the traditional Swan Lake, observing how these contrasts spoke to dualism. First, she presented the discrepancy in expectation versus production. For Cohen's musing on Swan Lake, he chose to retain the original music. When 3 pieced swan is performed, Spiegel noted that the audience is not expecting the movements that appear onstage. The adherence to the original score suggests certain choreography, and the reality of his piece does not meet these assumptions. Second, she pointed out the tension between community and the individual. In much of the classical Swan Lake, largely populated celebratory scenes erupt into jubilant group dances of the village and the court. Cohen danced his excerpt as a solo, and later in the evening, we saw that usually this piece has only three dancers. Spiegel argued that this is a far cry from the dozens of bodies onstage during most of Swan Lake. Last, the space between male and female was considered. Of course, the main role in Swan Lake is danced by a woman, and in Cohen's solo, a man became the primary character. I agree that challenging the gender roles in Swan Lake is another dimension of difference and duality. But, when dissecting this particular topic, reference should be made to the choreographers who have examined this issue before, specifically Matthew Bourne.
I did feel that the acknowledgement of sameness between 3 pieced swan and Swan Lake was missing from the discussion. In academia, there is often an assumption that sameness is not as valuable as difference. I don't believe this is so. I also don't think that these similarities detract or erase the presence of duality in Cohen's work. Swan Lake comes from a dualistic place, and Cohen explained that the starting point for his piece was this original story. With being conceived from the original, degrees of sameness with a strong presence of duality should be expected and commended.
Groundedness was the first characteristic of similarity. Earlier, I described the excerpt from 3 pieced swan as being drawn to the earth. On the surface, the ballet version of Swan Lake appears to be the opposite: vertical, airy, and light. I understand how lifts and pointework can give that incorrect impression. In truth, ballet is incredibly grounded. One of the best ways to describe ballet technique is that "you must have your down to have your up". Every lift, every turn, every releve depends on feeling, using and giving in to the floor to achieve the desired result. So, yes, the modern and ballet choreography are very different, but the impetus and the strength comes from the same place: the ground. Another point of sameness is the messiness of Swan Lake. Again, on the surface the ballet version conjures beauty and love, while 3 pieced swan seems rooted in the rough and unkempt. The classic is actually a dark, ugly story about captivity, control, longing and death. I don't leave Swan Lake saying "how beautiful"; I leave Swan Lake saying, "how sad". Underneath the costumes, the sets, and the choreography, both works illustrate a similar darkness and loneliness.
These two works are in consonance as much as they are in dissonance; and both states of being are interesting ruminations on duality.
February 18, 2010
A good dance lecture-demonstration is not easy to find. Inherently, its formula can be fraught with problems: a forced and contrived sharing of ideas, too much talk and not enough movement; all choreography and no framework. Finding a balance in this format is tough, and American University succeeded with Idan Cohen-Dancing Israeli Identity: Looking Backward, Looking Forward. This evening had it all: a brilliant, eloquent and generous choreographer in conversation with a thoughtful, passionate professor and historian (too often, a rarity in academic circles).
Dr. Nina Spiegel began by taking the audience on an informative journey exploring some general aspects of Israeli culture, while accenting the expression of it through dance. In one session, it is impossible to relay everything that makes a people unique, but the main point that I took from her lecture was the strong presence of dualism in Israeli culture. The audience then was able to see a tangible example of this dualism as Idan Cohen took the stage in an excerpt from 3 pieced swan, op. 1.
The short sequence that Cohen performed was a staccato myriad of animal-like choreography. He so integrated crawling, rolling, and arching into his movement vocabulary that at times, he appeared to be a true member of the cat, reptile or amphibian families. In the middle of his solo, he also introduced some more fluid passages, still strongly linked to animals, but of a very different quality. Here we saw circular head rolls and serpentine massaging of the spine playing against the still present angular motions. All the choreography shared a very strong element of grounding; a passionate yearning for connection to the earth.
Cohen and Spiegel then reflected on this work as well as other dances shown on film, relating all to Israeli culture. It was thrilling to see two scholars committed to discovering and sharing these connections. The most interesting analysis (for me, anyway) was how dualism -which we learned is deeply rooted in Israeli culture - is evident when comparing 3 pieced swan to the original and quintessential ballet, Swan Lake.
Spiegel highlighted several differences between Cohen's piece and the traditional Swan Lake, observing how these contrasts spoke to dualism. First, she presented the discrepancy in expectation versus production. For Cohen's musing on Swan Lake, he chose to retain the original music. When 3 pieced swan is performed, Spiegel noted that the audience is not expecting the movements that appear onstage. The adherence to the original score suggests certain choreography, and the reality of his piece does not meet these assumptions. Second, she pointed out the tension between community and the individual. In much of the classical Swan Lake, largely populated celebratory scenes erupt into jubilant group dances of the village and the court. Cohen danced his excerpt as a solo, and later in the evening, we saw that usually this piece has only three dancers. Spiegel argued that this is a far cry from the dozens of bodies onstage during most of Swan Lake. Last, the space between male and female was considered. Of course, the main role in Swan Lake is danced by a woman, and in Cohen's solo, a man became the primary character. I agree that challenging the gender roles in Swan Lake is another dimension of difference and duality. But, when dissecting this particular topic, reference should be made to the choreographers who have examined this issue before, specifically Matthew Bourne.
I did feel that the acknowledgement of sameness between 3 pieced swan and Swan Lake was missing from the discussion. In academia, there is often an assumption that sameness is not as valuable as difference. I don't believe this is so. I also don't think that these similarities detract or erase the presence of duality in Cohen's work. Swan Lake comes from a dualistic place, and Cohen explained that the starting point for his piece was this original story. With being conceived from the original, degrees of sameness with a strong presence of duality should be expected and commended.
Groundedness was the first characteristic of similarity. Earlier, I described the excerpt from 3 pieced swan as being drawn to the earth. On the surface, the ballet version of Swan Lake appears to be the opposite: vertical, airy, and light. I understand how lifts and pointework can give that incorrect impression. In truth, ballet is incredibly grounded. One of the best ways to describe ballet technique is that "you must have your down to have your up". Every lift, every turn, every releve depends on feeling, using and giving in to the floor to achieve the desired result. So, yes, the modern and ballet choreography are very different, but the impetus and the strength comes from the same place: the ground. Another point of sameness is the messiness of Swan Lake. Again, on the surface the ballet version conjures beauty and love, while 3 pieced swan seems rooted in the rough and unkempt. The classic is actually a dark, ugly story about captivity, control, longing and death. I don't leave Swan Lake saying "how beautiful"; I leave Swan Lake saying, "how sad". Underneath the costumes, the sets, and the choreography, both works illustrate a similar darkness and loneliness.
These two works are in consonance as much as they are in dissonance; and both states of being are interesting ruminations on duality.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Concern for Dance Archiving
“Dancing is the most fleeting of all the performance arts because there is no decent way to notate it; so a dance really only exists at the moment it is experienced; in the dancer's body and in the dancemaker's head.”
-(source-Sally Banes, “Substanceless Brutality”, Before, Between, and Beyond: Three Decades of Dance Writing, edited and with an introduction by Andrea Harris, forewords by Joan Acocella and Lynn Garafola, Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2007, 15, original article published in The Reader, February 15, 1974).
Next week, this quote will be thirty-six years-old; and sadly, its message continues to reflect the current state of dance archival systems. The dance community still lacks a comprehensive plan to reconcile inadequate records and the survival of repertory. Archiving largely exists outside of the creative process and the different archival practices are not being fully accessed or integrated into the creation of new work.
I recently published, “Archiving Dance: The Necessity of Collaboration”, in Bourgeon: a survey of the current available archival systems and a call for a more interdependent approach to their usage.
http://bourgeononline.com/?p=1699
-(source-Sally Banes, “Substanceless Brutality”, Before, Between, and Beyond: Three Decades of Dance Writing, edited and with an introduction by Andrea Harris, forewords by Joan Acocella and Lynn Garafola, Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2007, 15, original article published in The Reader, February 15, 1974).
Next week, this quote will be thirty-six years-old; and sadly, its message continues to reflect the current state of dance archival systems. The dance community still lacks a comprehensive plan to reconcile inadequate records and the survival of repertory. Archiving largely exists outside of the creative process and the different archival practices are not being fully accessed or integrated into the creation of new work.
I recently published, “Archiving Dance: The Necessity of Collaboration”, in Bourgeon: a survey of the current available archival systems and a call for a more interdependent approach to their usage.
http://bourgeononline.com/?p=1699
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