Robert
Moses’ Kin
SILT
Forum
at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco
May 14th,
2015
Dregs,
grounds, deposit, sediment. These are just some of the many synonyms for the
term silt. The material that is left over; the substance that remains. Robert
Moses has chosen this penetrating concept for his latest contemporary dance. With
its reflective nature and investigative questions, SILT is a marvelous beginning to Robert Moses’ Kin’s twentieth
anniversary season.
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Pictured: Brendan Barthel & Norma Fong Photo: RJ Muna |
As we
entered the YBCA Forum space, we were greeted by the company dancers and guided
through a set of center stage mobiles, strings of beads hanging from each. This
was a curious feeling; light and mystical but also with an awareness that you
were walking through something heavy, something significant. After everyone had
traveled this airy yet viscose path, the world premiere of SILT began. The
company of fourteen took their opening positions at the back of the room and
initiated a set of pulsating, repetitive movements. At first, they traveled
forward together but then broke out into the periphery. This dynamic of
scattering and re-arranging into new configurations would inform the entire evening.
Just like sediment; just like silt.
SILT was spatially immersive, in
every way imaginable. We (the audience) were encouraged to move about the space
as the dance developed, interacting with the performers and with those around
us. Of late, I’ve attended a number of performances that engaged this ‘mobile
viewer’ model. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Here it not only
worked, it flourished. The YBCA Forum was built for this style of dance
installation; everyone was all in, completely behind the concept. This audience
ownership, if you will, meant that you decided what scenes to watch, how long
to watch them, where to move next. And in turn, noticed what would catch your
eye, what would keep your attention and what would draw you in. At the same
time, there were scenes that were completely obscured from your view, no matter
where you moved. So as an audience member, you also had to contend with the
idea of not always getting what you wanted. With us all co-habitating and
co-existing in a shared space, the dancer’s deportment also varied, from
inviting and soothing all the way to confrontational.
Bodies
dispersed unpredictably, all over the space. Dancing bodies; watching bodies. SILT was up close and personal and had
an exciting undercurrent of unpredictability. We didn’t know where the dancers
would go next, and they also didn’t know when we would move or where we would
sit or stand. With circumstances in constant flux, a true ‘in-the-moment’
contemporary dance performance evolved. So of course, everyone’s SILT experience was different. From the
various vignettes I witnessed, here are a few highlights.
A
recurring swimming motif appeared in several of the solos, duets and group
sequences. This rippling movement was delicate but also had a weight to it,
bringing back the sense of our initial entrance through the hanging bead
structures. These panels figured prominently in the work, and some of my
favorite moments were when dancers stood amongst and amidst the beads, waiting.
Suspension literally and figuratively hung in the air, and I was transfixed
watching the living statues abiding within the beads.
A long
line of dancers traveled towards a staircase with a series of step, plié, back
attitude. They exited the main floor, climbed the stairs and proceeded to dance
above us, against the grid-like ceiling squares. The movements spoke of
desperation but the statement was delightfully ambiguous - were they trying to
connect, or trying to retreat? As spotlights appeared all over the floor, the
company continued to engage with the audience, handing out cell phones and speakers
as they approached each pool of light. A swirling, movement phrase unfolded (at
least where I was standing) full of off-center pirouettes and fanning arms and
legs. Near the end of SILT, most,
though not all, of the dancers receded to the side wall for a moment of repose,
which then fed into a collection of individual solos– grounded, funky phrase
material abounding all over the room. The repetitive body pulses returned to
signal that the end of the piece was near. And then, the brilliant seventy-five
minute exposition closed - the dancers gathered the hanging beads, shook them and
then released their grasp, almost like the end of a ritual.
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