SAFEhouse Arts presents
SPF9 (Summer Performance
Festival)
July 6th-10th,
2016
ODC Theater, San
Francisco
On Wednesday, July 6th,
SAFEhouse Arts’ annual Summer Performance Festival (SPF) returned to the ODC
campus for its ninth year – five days of cutting edge work from a diverse
collection of emerging choreographic voices. What follows is commentary and
thoughts on two shared programs from this vibrant festival: opening night’s
performance of Alyce Finwall Dance Theater/Alma Esperanza Cunningham Movement and
Saturday afternoon’s Peter & Co./ka·nei·see/collective.
As Finwall’s Haven opened, dancers Isabel Rosenstock
and Katie Meyers faced the audience, heads down, hair swept forward. Keeping
their faces obscured, they crawled downstage with their legs extended. Over the
next twenty minutes, the duo cycled through an emotive and provocative pas de
deux. Finwall’s choreography compelled with its combination of contemporary
release technique and contact partnering peppered with flashes of classical
ballet (turned out passé, attitude devant and even a supported grand rond de
jambe). Haven also explored an array
of compositional forms with partnering, solo work, canon and strongly danced
unison sequences. But by far, the most striking aspect of the work was how Finwall
envisioned the dancers’ hair as a theatrical device - throughout most of the dance,
Rosenstock and Meyers’ faces would continue to be partially or completely
hidden. While the wildness of the hair provided an interesting structural
contrast to the specific and defined choreography, the purposeful action also
posited a number of narrative questions. Perhaps by shielding their faces,
Finwall was suggesting a move away from the performative space and inwards to
the private and personal. Maybe covering their faces was indicative of an
obsessive compulsion that couldn’t be shaken. Or was this a larger statement of
egalitarianism? With camouflaged faces, it was easy to imagine that Haven’s two dancers could have been
anybody, even those seated in the audience.
The masking of faces by
hair was an ongoing theme in SPF9’s first performance, also factoring heavily
in Cunningham’s SHE WENT/4 solos
(danced by Ronja Ver, Keryn Breiterman-Loader, Karla Quintero and Arletta
Anderson). As the work began, the house lights were up. A soloist (again with
her hair swept forward) stood on an audience seat, singing. After her song was
over, she began moving her torso side to side like a mannequin, a motion which quickly
grew to frenetic shaking. She then ventured down the stairs towards the stage
and when she reached her destination, she stood in a calm fifth position, and
prepared her arms from bras bas to second.
With its four segments,
each set to a different musical selection, SHE
WENT/4 solos is a narrative exploration, to be sure. Though it was actually
Cunningham’s choreography that spoke volumes for me. As in the first solo, each
individual chapter mixed recognizable dance vocabulary with unpredictable
physical activity and pedestrian tasks. Deconstructing norms and assumptions of
what movement can or should ‘fit’ together, Cunningham seamlessly crafted each
phrase into a choreographic stream of consciousness. Solo number two featured a
repetitive footwork pattern of turned in lunges and traditional pas de bourées
with moments of quiet and repose in open fourth position. The third movement
was filled with quick isolations and sharp contractions, interspersed with deep
pliés in second position. SHE WENT/4
solos’ closing chapter revisited the pas de bourée motif, this time
accompanied by parallel developpés, mimed jumping rope and sitting amongst the
audience. And the great thing about these kaleidoscopic movement sequences is
that in each instance, surprise abounded – every moment a delicious departure
from the expected.
Onto Saturday afternoon’s
3:30pm performance and the shared program from Peter & Co. and ka·nei·see/collective.
For Interstice, Founder/Artistic
Director Peter Cheng faced backward, lit from the side of the stage shin-buster
style. He began circling though all kinds of curves and arcs in the spine, in
the arms and in the torso. Pathways were explored to the front, side, back and
sagitally; speeds varied from intensely slow to lightning fast; movements from
tiny to vast and broad. While Cheng was certainly creating and sculpting shapes
in space, Interstice was about the
process of getting there, a study in articulation. An aptly named work
(interstice of course meaning the ‘in between’), Cheng’s solo revealed the
points along a greater journey.
|
Pictured: Kalani Hicks and Sophia Larriva in Peter & Co.'s Transverse Course Photo: Afshin Odabaee |
Peter & Co. also
offered Transverse Course, a trio
danced by Kalani Hicks Sophia Larriva and Alyssa Mitchel. Having seen a
previous iteration of this dance last summer, many of my original observations
held true, especially its structural and compositional diversity. But the
wonderful thing about dance is that a piece is never the same twice (and with
the exception of one dancer, this was a different cast). There is always an
opportunity to uncover something new at every viewing. What stood out this time
was a specificity and definitive nature within the individual movements. This
is not to imply that the choreography wasn’t clear before, not at all. But an
increased clarity in intention and communication definitely spoke from the ODC
stage. From the smallest motion - slowly rolling through the foot to place it
on the floor – to the big developpé extensions in second position, the
attention to where the movement was coming from, where it was going and what
path it was on was palpable.
Artistic Director Tanya
Chianese of ka·nei·see/collective has a knack for creating ensemble works that
have both strong technical choreography and deep narrative themes. And she has
a keen ability to translate these goals to a large-scale format for a large
cast – Masses is proof of this.
Twelve dancers entered the space for a powerful, high energy, full-out opening
sequence. Almost like reactive molecular dynamics, the cast adhered together,
appropriating each other’s movements. Next, a few would break off and separate to
explore another reality and then the cycle would repeat again. It was
elemental, basal, even a little primal. Performers danced in close proximity (yet
amazingly, no collisions); the dozen bodies onstage purposefully creating an
atmosphere of congestion. Right from this first chapter, the message was
percolating - Masses considered the
individual existence in the context of the swarm, particularly issues of
identity, decision-making, empathy and being aware.
Reacting in the moment
played out in a side-to-side exchange. Dancers traveled across the stage, while
others emerged from the wings directly blocking their path. Brief partnered
lifts moved these ‘obstacles’ out of the way; sometimes with care and
attention, sometimes with indifference and annoyance. Near the end of Masses, a compellingly tender duet
surfaced, accompanied live onstage by violinist Lucia Petito. As this beautiful
conversation played out, the remaining ensemble sat in a line and stared
straight forward into the audience. Were they missing what was happening right
in front of them? Were they choosing to look away? Were they checking to see if we were watching? Or were they noticing that
with the audience, they were even part of a much larger crowd?