Dance Commentary by Heather Desaulniers

"Onegin"

2012-02-01T17:16:00.000-08:00

Maria Kochetkova and Vitor Luiz in Cranko's "Onegin"
Photo: Erik Tomasson

San Francisco Ballet
War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco
January 31, 2012

An evening of choreographic and artistic brilliance awaits at San Francisco Ballet's production of John Cranko's "Onegin". A superb choice to open the 2012 season, this full-length narrative ballet is a multi-layered composition that combines risky choreography and infinite thematics (thus appealing to both the traditionalist and the modernist). "Onegin" tells the story of Eugene Onegin, a gallant man whose visit to one village changes the course of many lives: his friend Lensky, Lensky's fiancée Olga, her sister Tatiana and also himself. Infatuation, tragedy, romance and selfishness plague the four primary characters throughout the three Acts, and as the curtain falls, the true message of Cranko's masterpiece becomes clear: do-overs are few and far between and the deep sadness and pain from previous actions can live forever. You may be able to move forward, but are still without reconciliation or resolution - your reality being not as you hoped because of consequences from long ago.

Act I is all about expectation. As the curtain rises, a family of women are revealed and in these opening moments, we come to meet the two sisters, Olga and Tatiana, who are each anticipating what their respective futures may hold. Olga, danced by the delightful Clara Blanco, is engaged to Lensky and has the giddy, hopeful, elated demeanor of any bride-to-be. Tatiana is quite the opposite, displaying a inner solitude and romantic imagination found in the pretend world of her books. Lensky arrives, bringing with him his dashing friend Onegin, who, for Tatiana, becomes the flesh and blood manifestation of her fantasy. In their first pas de deux, she is literally being swept off her feet in a series of breathtaking fan lifts and as she bourées towards her ideal, the tiny, quick steps are the epitome of exhilaration.

SF Ballet in Cranko's "Onegin"
Photo: Erik Tomasson

Act II brings the story to a place of reality and a harsh one at that. During Tatiana's birthday celebration, Onegin (Vitor Luiz) commences a dangerous game of flirtation with Olga. Those around him are deeply affected by his indifference and thoughtless cruelty, and Lensky (Gennadi Nedvigin) reacts by challenging Onegin to a duel. Nedvigin's solo prior to the duel was one of the most thrilling moments in the ballet. The movement was so infused with reflective emotion, almost as if the character knew this was the end. Cranko choreographed an incredibly difficult variation for this dramatic moment: all of the pirouettes finishing up in relevé passé and the posé arabesques followed by a pull into deep plié. There was such suspension and tension in these steps; Lensky trying desperately to hold onto hope, yet knowing and eventually giving into the fate that would likely befall him. The constant switching between en dedans (inside) and en dehors (outside) turns also provided a physical depiction of his internal turmoil. Nedvigin was fantastic and heartbreaking - I had eerie chills by the end of the sequence.

We come to "Onegin's" final Act to experience how the regret of the past still abides in the events of the present. Onegin once again encounters Tatiana; she has moved on and is now married to a Prince. The two meet for one last time to tell each other their truths - he of his love for her and she of her resolve to keep to her marital commitment. Vitor Luiz and Maria Kochetkova as Onegin and Tatiana then dance their ultimate pas de deux. Filled with constant spinning and abandoned lifts, this duet tells of longing, detachment, sorrow and inevitability. Yet, the most revealing moment was as they stood still hand-in-hand facing out to the audience - a tragic resolution, yet really, the only way their union could have turned out.

Performing any role in a John Cranko ballet requires an intense commitment to the combination of flawless technique and emotive depth. SF Ballet's "Onegin" reveals Maria Kochetkova as one of the great dance actresses of her time. Kochetkova has a natural dramatic ability - she can move the audience with the forceful accent of an arabesque penchée, the lowering of her arm or with one simple glance. She looks equally at home as the innocent young girl of Act I, Scene I or as the mature, regal princess of Act III. No matter the movement or the scene, Kochetkova pulls you in and makes you akin to her character's journey.

"So I Married Abraham Lincoln"

2012-01-30T14:36:00.000-08:00

Photo: Pak Han

Paufve | Dance
Dance Mission Theater, San Francisco
January 29, 2012

Historical dance pieces are a tricky undertaking. Often they turn out to be nothing more than a factual regurgitation, not much different than a television documentary. Or, they can go too far in the opposite direction, where the dance is so obscure that the historical component gets completely lost. The sweet spot is somewhere right in the middle, where a significant amount of the history is combined with creative translation. Paufve | Dance has discovered that successful equation with, "So I Married Abraham Lincoln...". The notion and construct of the 'First Lady' consumes Artistic Director Randee Paufve's newest work, with Mary Todd Lincoln as its primary example. "So I Married Abraham Lincoln..." contrasts the emotional and physical realities of being human against public and personal expectation. This dance is a comment on the difficult relationship between formality and truth.

The piece unfolded within four different spaces of the Dance Mission building - three short segments in the lobby and two different studios followed by the bulk of the work in the theater itself. As the audience was escorted to and from each of these performance areas, we were choreographically descending into the complex mind and spirit of Mary Todd Lincoln. The lobby portion, which was performed by members of Paufve | Dance's chorus, was very formal and public, both in presentation and movement style. Next came the overture where we encountered the seven company dancers. In their bodies and faces, a fractured and distant persona emerged - one that was clearly struggling to keep appearances while being pulled by the truth of the inner self. The third scene represented the eerie, dark corners of the psyche; the parts that we keep hidden from everyone and everything; the thoughts that we wish weren't there; the inner demons that haunt us. Lastly, we journeyed into Dance Mission's main theater to watch a clever and detailed narrative exploration of the First Ladies in general and Mary Todd Lincoln in particular.

We entered the theater and crossed the stage while the dance was already underway. As we were seated, the performers began a 'supermodel' type introduction of their characters, repeating the names of all the First Ladies as they walked an imaginary runway. The names were repeated throughout the work, which gave two opposing effects. Saying the names over and over again both emphasized and normalized these women in our consciousness, which is typical of our relationship to those in the public eye - they are in the spotlight and under scrutiny, yet the constant images and stories also have an anesthetizing property.

Paufve delved into the idea of 'posing' from both an internal and external perspective. In several instances, the dancers manipulated, pulled and posed each other in very specific and often uncomfortable stances. These positions were intrusions, inflicted and infringed upon them by external forces. In contrast, there were also sections of cluster pictures where the cast assembled in multiple frozen vignettes. Here was internal posing and an attempt to convey an acceptable image.

Incorporating multiple locales into full-evening contemporary dance works is very hip right now and this theatrical tool was especially a propos for "So I Married Abraham Lincoln...". Each new physical place emphasized how this dance was unpacking different emotional recesses of the human mind. It was a fantastic addition to an already strong narrative. But, moving the audience from place to place does bring with it a whole slew of logistical issues. Of main concern was the inability to actually see what was happening in the first two spaces. Views of the amazing choreography and brilliant dancing were obstructed because of too many people in too small a space at the same time; it was just too crowded.

"Aperture"

2012-01-23T10:54:00.000-08:00

Photo: Mark Andrew Wilson

Samantha Giron Dance Project
Kunst-Stoff Arts, San Francisco
January 20, 2012

The family photograph is a strange and fascinating entity that we encounter on a daily basis. Whether planned, posed, spontaneous or silly, these images are absolutely everywhere - in homes, on smartphones and in the media. And, these photos can stir up so many questions. What was happening the day it was taken? Do the expressions accurately reflect the feelings and emotions of the subjects? Is it a true moment of reality or a completely staged scene? Who are these people and what is their story? Samantha Giron Dance Project's recent production, "Aperture", is a physical unfolding of and an unexpected look inside of one family system. She invites the audience into this intimate space where admiration, respect and truth are revealed and celebrated.

To frame the piece, Giron chose to infuse the music with audio clips of her father speaking about his family experience. The talking and the music came together in a unique score that drove home a message of joy. It was lovely to hear and see a family history where the story wasn't all damage, abuse and darkness. Instead, here was a memoir of love, support and security where both the cultural past and the opportunities of the future were valued. Yet, this positive family history was is no way a fairytale and still had its share of struggles and challenges. I think this honest and cohesive treatment of her chosen narrative is why "Aperture" commands attention - it was an exercise in personal truth-telling.

A walking motif recurred throughout the dance, and each time it appeared, we saw another piece of the puzzle. As "Aperture" opened, the three dancers (Vivian Aragon, Sophia Formosa and Jackie Goneconti) walked about the space frequently changing directions with purpose and confidence; they knew where they were going and wanted to pursue their particular path. At other times, the walking was much more reticent and was accompanied with a longing look over the shoulder, almost as if they weren't ready to leave and felt nervous about where they might find themselves next. This walking, whether in a circular or straight pattern, illustrated the dichotomy of moving on - to go towards something new, you must also leave something or someone else behind. Other choreographic sequences spoke to the complexity of this family system, by indicating both collective support (where the dancers gently and repeatedly lifted each other) and individual pluck (when one dancer broke away from the trio to perform their own different movement).

Everything about "Aperture" is absolutely refreshing - from the narrative to the soundscape to the physical vocabulary. Samantha Giron is a dancemaker who is living, working and challenging her choreographic genre rather than being satisfied with the status quo. Take any opportunity you have to see the Samantha Giron Dance Project - they are the future of Bay Area modern dance.

2011 Dance Blog Results

2012-01-09T23:22:00.001-08:00

Thank you to everyone who voted for my blog in Dance Advantage's 2011 round-up. I placed third overall!

Top Dance Blogs of 2011

2011-12-27T15:33:00.000-08:00

My blog made it to the top 20 of Dance Advantage's Top Dance Blogs of 2011! Go to the link and below and vote for me - I'm listed third from the bottom.

http://danceadvantage.net/2011/12/27/vote-top-blogs-2011/

"The Nutcracker" - Peninsula Ballet Theatre

2011-12-27T09:44:00.000-08:00

Fox Theatre, Redwood City

December 17, 2011

Artistic Director Bruce Steivel hascreated a delightful “Nutcracker” for one of the South Bay'scharming professional companies, Peninsula Ballet Theatre. In itssecond year of production, Steivel's version of the Christmas balletkeeps to the traditional story yet offers some very appropriatenarrative additions. For example, the first scene's party guests aredignitaries representing the nations that will re-appear in Act II's'Land of the Sweets'. This makes so much sense and offers anew-found continuity. And, when it came to Act I, Scene three's'Kingdom of Snow', Steivel's intricate choreography came alive withdynamic range and technical skill.

A gorgeous lift opened the snow sceneas the Snow Queen (Chelsea Hix) made her regal entrance. Supportedby her Snow King (Nathan Cottam), Hix floated through the aircompletely upright, in a breathtaking standing lift. The snowflakeshad equally impressive moments, especially their first canonsequence. As each group began Steivel's delicate choreography, anactual snowfall emerged onstage. Staggering the corps' movementallowed for a real-time experience of winter weather - light and calmone moment; heavy and chaotic in the next. With the snow music beingin ¾ time, it obviously lends itself to waltz combinations but,envisioning unique and creative choreography for this well-knownscore can be challenging. In addition to the typical balancéand piqué vocabulary, Steivel was able to inject some steps that fitwell with the waltz tempo yet are less frequently used in thisvignette – the ballonés were my personal favorite.

Asthe principal snow scene dancers, Hix and Cottam shone in theirlifts, their solo work and the majority of their pas de deux. Theirside by side grand jetés were fantastic – expertly matching eachother's height, extension and landing. Where they struggled was insome of the supported turns and promenades. Though the exact issuewas unclear, I imagine that it was due to a combination of balanceand timing on both of their parts. Hix fell off of pointe duringseveral of these partnered turns and balances (though she coveredwell) which indicated something was clearly off during their duet.

"The Nutcracker" - Ballet San Jose

2011-12-27T09:39:00.000-08:00

San Jose Center for the PerformingArts, San Jose

December 17, 2011

Ballet San Jose's “The Nutcracker”affords the Bay Area yet another opportunity to experience thetraditional Christmas tale. Choreographed by Artistic DirectorDennis Nahat on the former Cleveland Ballet in 1979, this productioncenters around the main character of Maria Tannenbaum and her belovedNutcracker Prince. While much of Act One is familiar to any“Nutcracker” fan, Act Two is quite a diversion from the typical“Nutcracker” story. Instead of arriving in the 'Land of theSweets', Maria and the Prince travel through three different lands. In each locale, they are greeted with the dance of that nation andare invited to participate. Lastly, they arrive at their finaldestination of Muscovy and it is here where the Prince is joyfullyreunited with his parents, Tsarina Tatiana and Tsar Nikolai (dancedby Karen Gabay and Rudy Candia at this performance) and is able tointroduce them to Maria.

Photo by Robert Shomler

Act I, Scene IV, aptly named 'AWondrous Snowstorm', highlights Nahat's unique ability to marryclassic and contemporary sensibilities. The technique and physicalsyntax definitely fall into the classical camp. The snowflakes runinto the space like ethereal fairies, carrying handfuls of snow thatthey dispel into the air. Beautiful port de bras fills the entiregroup dance that follows. The hands and arms move above the head,gently brushing the sky in combination with airy pas de basques;chaîné turns fall into waltzsteps and balancés while the arms alternate between bras bas and 5^thposition. Constant motion was the name of the game; even in the fewmoments where the snowflakes posed in a particular position, therewas no stopping. You could see them growing and extending everysecond they were on stage – constant and impenetrable flow andgrace. Some classical patterning also deserves special mention. Near the end of the scene, a gorgeous musical glissando isrepresented by sequenced floorwork that increased in tempo andintensity as dictated by the score. And, the winter wonderlandconcluded with the snowflakes boureéing in a zipper formation,engulfing Maria and the Prince in their embrace before sending themoff on the next leg of their adventure.

Itwas in the narrative that Nahat employed a more contemporaryinterpretation of the snow scene (and for me his choices make a lotof sense). He elects not to feature a Snow King or Queen and insteadhave Maria and the Prince dance the entire pas de deux together. This choice allows a stronger participatory element to their story –they are really involved in the transition from the party through thesnowy forest and into the next dimension. By having them dance these'lead roles', Maria and the Prince are not only present but alsoactive in every part of their journey.

WhenI attend any ballet, my focus is obviously on the dancing andchoreography. I tend to not comment too much about design orcostumes but every once in a while, one of these elements is so overwhelming that it must be mentioned. I felt transported by thestunning snow scenery in Ballet San Jose's “The Nutcracker”. David Guthrie has envisioned a set that creates a wintry forestpossessing emotion, beauty and depth. Bravo!

"The Nutcracker" - Berkeley Ballet Theater

2011-12-16T12:03:00.001-08:00

Julia Morgan Center for the Arts, Berkeley
December 10th, 2011

"The Nutcracker" at Berkeley Ballet Theater is a charming interpretation of the Christmas classic, complete with a few very appropriate Berkeley-esque adjustments. Choreographed by Sally Streets and Robert Nichols, the annual production showcases the talent and dedication of this school's teachers, students and parents.

In the finale of Act I, the Snow Queen (Katie Wilson) and King (Damon Mahoney) presided over their wintry kingdom with stunning poise while the six snowflakes filled the stage with a tranquil flutter. Streets and Nichols' choreography is based in a circular thematic in order to reflect snow's shape and texture. The port de bras followed several unique patterns that spoke to this conceptual imagery: both arms circled from bras bas up to a high 5th position; and the Snow Queen made a similar pathway from 1st position to 3rd arabesque. Petit allegro sequences (lots of temps leveé) were also favored, imitating a light, airy snowfall. While the choreography and staging were beautifully done, I think the more noteworthy accomplishment is the artistic and technical education that students are receiving at Berkeley Ballet Theater. These dancers are being taught solid technique - obvious throughout the entire show, but specifically present with the snowflakes. There is clear emphasis being placed on keeping square and understanding how your legs, arms and core must work together to create the complexity that is classical ballet.

"Nutcracker" - San Francisco Ballet

2011-12-13T14:53:00.000-08:00

Mariellen Olson in Tomasson's "Nutcracker"
Photo by Erik Tomasson

War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco
December 9, 2011

If you long for a December filled with freezing precipitation, Helgi Tomasson's "Nutcracker" can fill that void with gorgeous costuming, inspired choreography and an abundance of glistening snow. Act I's final scene is a brilliant physical expression of a winter dreamworld.

Tomasson's snow scene begins with delicate choreography; an accurate interpretation of a quiet, tranquil, light snowfall. The snowflake dancers move through their intricate formations with waltz steps, emboîté turns and piqués onto pointe - smooth, gentle phrases that cover the stage like a warm blanket. As the intensity and tempo of the snowfall increases, a relevé sequence is added marking the staccato nature of the more dramatic winter weather. The King and Queen of the Snow preside over this entire journey with a defined regality, performing noble lifts and majestic turns. On opening night, these roles were danced by the elegant duo of Davit Karapetyan and Vanessa Zahorian. These two principals perform as a solid unit, giving consummate artistic and technical attention to every step from the overhead lifts to the low attitude turns.

In my review of last year's production, I noted that the women's corps de ballet was having some difficulty gelling as a group. It was wonderful to see that just twelve months later, a comprehensive team has emerged - the corps should be very pleased with the strides they have made over the past year. This newfound collective strength is definitely positive, though at the same time, it did emphasize that one snowflake was having a rough performance on opening night. She was having difficulty maintaining the squareness in her hips and shoulders and her chaîné turns were very wobbly.

"The Nutcracker" - An Overture to 2011

2011-12-11T12:54:00.001-08:00

As each "Nutcracker" season approaches, dance writers and critics are faced with making their interpretation of the Christmas classic new yet again. It is no easy task to make something so familiar seem fresh year after year. And, with most critics seeing a number of "Nutcrackers" each December, new ideas become even more challenging. So this year, I decided to focus my attention on one single (and perhaps my favorite) vignette: the snow scene. The reviews above will discuss how each production treats this winter wonderland.

Tanztheater Wuppertal

2011-12-07T09:52:00.001-08:00

Photo by : Bettina Stoß

Cal Performances presents
Pina Bausch's "Danzón"
Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley
December 3, 2011

Appearing at Cal Performances for the first time since Pina Bausch's sudden passing in 2009, Tanztheater Wuppertal brought her brilliant and somewhat light-hearted 1995 work "Danzón" to the Berkeley stages last weekend. While chronicling the journey that humanity travels in the space between birth and death, Bausch's legacy, drive and creativity lives on. She pushed boundaries like no one else and had an unmatched ability to juxtapose text, dance and design all in service of her chosen narrative. As we soon bid a bittersweet farewell to one of the foremost modern dance companies, it is wonderful that Tanztheater Wuppertal continues to share the magic of Bausch dance-theater.

The various stages of life were beautifully represented through Bausch's blend of drama, humor and absurdity. The opening images gave us birth as a grown man (dressed as a baby in an oversized diaper) crawls across the stage. First love unfolded in the seesaw scene, and the women used oranges to learn how to kiss. An abundance of journey/travel symbols were used as props (bags and suitcases) and when one part of the set briefly and purposely burst into flames, Bausch was commenting on unexpected challenges. The final moments brought us to the end of life with a lengthy grave scene.

The choreography closely followed the central theme by employing movements that were about motion and going somewhere. The first duet danced by two women in white introduced a swimming motif, which recurred several times throughout the two-hour piece. Bausch was also able to incorporate the notion that in life, we sometimes make decisions of our own accord and sometimes are aided by others. The pas de trois mid-way through "Danzón" showed a woman being tenderly lifted and assisted as she made her way through the space. And, the final leg of the trip gave a stunning visual as to how we can approach death. Here, one female dancer gently stepped onto the foot of her male partner, and then, he turned her ever so slightly into a lovely attitude derrière. They repeated this short sequence from upstage right to downstage left and you could feel the calm and support as she reached her final destination.

Danzón" definitely feels lighter than many Bausch works, at least in terms of the often present violence and brutality. Having said that, there were some obvious Bausch-isms that sang from Zellerbach Hall's stage last Saturday. Many Bausch ballets examine the relationship between men and women from a dark perspective, specifically men's aggression toward women and women's humiliation of men. Though dialed down quite a bit for "Danzón", both were present. As a woman lay facedown on a massage table, her experience quickly moved from relaxing to forceful, as several men pulled and manipulated her body while she maintained a completely passive position. In another scene, the women sat still in chairs, smiling menacingly, as the men crawled around the stage and laid their heads on the women's knees clearly seeking approval and affection. In addition, "Danzón" contained Pina's trademark absurdist moments; the funniest one being a tent scene where the cast was assembled listening to stories and jokes, almost like a camping trip. Then, all of a sudden, the peace and tranquility was interrupted by a disco/belly dancing performance complete with a soap box and a rubber snake.

From a structural perspective, "Danzón" is my favorite Bausch composition (at least from what I have seen thus far). Diverse scenework (events expressed through text and mime) was infused with varying dance vignettes (Cuban, ballet, character, partnering, lyrical and contemporary). Many of these dance portions happened in isolation, and though separate, were still able to extrapolate the narrative and move the story forward. The result of these 'separate' dance sequences was a marked clarity of purpose. Much dance theater throws everything on the stage at once, producing a saturated and chaotic frenzy. "Danzón" still had its share of bedlam but with this structural specificity, the audience was able to experience the choreography itself and really see the advanced technical level of the dancers. They were out there on their own, vulnerably sharing each and every movement, revealing the narrative through their physical abandon.

"Hover Space"

2011-12-01T13:29:00.001-08:00

Photo by Lois Greenfield

Printz Dance Project
Z Space, San Francisco
November 30th, 2011

Last night, Printz Dance Project's newest endeavor, "Hover Space", burst onto the modern dance scene at Theater Artaud's Z Space. Choreographed and conceived by Artistic Director Stacey Printz, this piece takes the idea of traditional performance space and raises it to a new height with the incorporation of a suspended dance stage. With a talented cast, unique concept and inventive movement, "Hover Space" is a slam dunk.

Narratively there were a two interdependent themes running through the work. First was the notion of relationships. The opening vignettes introduced us to three different couples, whose interaction and connection would be examined over the course of the seventy-minute dance. Second was expansion. With the addition of a second stage, these relationships could be experienced and understood as the sum of multiple different levels. Pas de deuxs unfolded both horizontally and vertically, bringing a richer dimension to the story of each couple and revealing several truths. As the pairs struggled to associate with each other when on the ground and on the suspended stage, Printz exposed that relationships can be equally unsure whether they are built on stable roots or rocky foundations. As the upper stage tilted, yet another relationship angle was explored. As the duos climbed up to the top and slid down and away from each other, the balance of coupledom was clear - love can be precarious and easily lost or it can be strong and secure if you make the effort to catch each other.

Printz's movement vocabulary in itself is a very interesting fusion of styles: modern, hip hop and contemporary jazz. Hip hop and jazz are not easy genres to incorporate into rigorous artistic work; they often come across looking too commercial or similar to dance competition choreography. Printz is able to combine the three by focusing on the technical challenges of modern dance, the lyrical expression of jazz and the staccato attack of hip hop. The jumping and rolling sequence towards the end of "Hover Space" was a physical explosion. Its full-out abandon brought to mind the early work of LaLaLa Human Steps.

From a conceptual perspective, the 'hovering' second stage was brilliant and super cool. In the first group scene, this suspended stage rose and the dancers dangled from the bottom in a serpentine cluster - the effect was really quite something. Design additions like this one run the risk of being gimmicky, but because Printz paid careful attention to enmeshing all aspects of the work, everything on the stage fit together perfectly.

Top Dance Blogs of 2011

2011-11-30T22:26:00.001-08:00

Dance Advantage is naming the Top Dance Blogs for 2011 http://danceadvantage.net/2011/11/29/top-blog-2011/. This is the second year for this great contest and I'm entering in the Speaking Dance category - help me qualify by commenting on THIS post below. Again, comment on this post as to what you like about my blog. The blogs who generate the most comments move onto the next round!

"The Christmas Ballet"

2011-11-29T14:24:00.001-08:00


Robert Sund's "Oh, Holy Night" - Photo by Keith Sutter

Smuin Ballet
Lesher Center for the Arts, Walnut Creek, CA
November 25, 2011

Want a perfect way to kick off the holiday season? Check out Smuin Ballet's 2011 edition of their famed "Christmas Ballet". The first performances of this celebratory revue were held last weekend in Walnut Creek at the Lesher Center for the Arts and with this joyous collection of dance, one could feel the shift into festive merriment. Broken into two acts, dubbed 'The Classical Christmas' and 'The Cool Christmas', this production is a perfect ten.

Thirty-three short numbers fill the stage over the course of two hours, each with their own flavor and feeling. In the first act, the genres ranged from the lyrical interweaving of Celia Fushille's "Resonet in Laudibus" to the Celtic footwork of Michael Smuin's "The Gloucestershire Wassail" to the classical ballet of Amy Seiwert's "Sleigh Ride". In the many different vignettes and scenes, particular moments of technical bliss stood out including John Speed Orr's stunning tour jeté in the overture, Susan Roemer's port de corps in pencheé during "Sleep Well" and Darren Anderson's flawless partnering skills. "For Unto Us a Child is Born" introduced the best quartet I have seen in a long time (Robin Cornwall/Darren Anderson, Susan Roemer/Jonathan Dummar). Although a very short sequence in the overall piece, these four dancers have a kind of intuition that cannot be taught.

Act II brought a fun variety of choreographic stylings all set to contemporary holiday music. Fifties nostalgia was found in "Winter Weather", Broadway jazz in "Santa Baby", and Appalachian clogging in "Droopy Little Christmas Tree". A somewhat surprising and delightful discovery made during the second half of the program is that Smuin Ballet is home to some of the better tap dancers in the SF/Bay Area: Erica Chipp, Mallory Welsh and Shannon Hurlburt. Because rhythm tap is the trend for percussive dance these days, it is easy to forget that the more performative expressions of tap are equally (and perhaps even more) compelling. Robert Sund's new piece for this year's "Christmas Ballet" was a lovely addition. His musing on "Oh, Holy Night" (a pas de trois for Jonathan Mangosing, John Speed Orr and Jonathan Powell) not only had the best synchronicity of the evening but also was a tender, delicate and emotional dance for three men that still looked very masculine.

Visit Smuin Ballet's website for upcoming performances of "The Christmas Ballet" in Carmel, Mountain View and San Francisco:
http://smuinballet.org

Diablo Ballet - 18th Season

2011-11-27T15:35:00.001-08:00


Photo by Ashraf

Lesher Center for the Arts, Walnut Creek
November 18, 2011

Diablo Ballet celebrated its 18th season last weekend at the Lesher Center for the Arts in Walnut Creek with a three piece program that spoke to the company's breadth of skill and vision. A meeting of classical ballet and contemporary sensibility, Dominic Walsh's duet "Le Spectre de la Rose" opened the evening, danced by Rosselyn Ramirez and Domenico Luciano. A recent addition to the Diablo Ballet repertory, Walsh has retained the traditional choreographic feel of Michel Fokine's 1911 work, highlighting the technical beauty of the ballet lexicon. Luciano's performance as the rose was triumphant - the dramatic flexibility of his feet and the buoyancy in his ballon astounding. But Walsh did update the ballet by injecting a newness and nuanced spin into the story. The pas de deux between the rose and the girl had a more mysterious and edgier quality than many other versions. Here, we saw a slightly devilish side to the usual chivalrous male character. There was a level of manipulation and imposed control to the point that the girl eventually took on some of the rose's movements. Walsh was alluding to the darker side of relationships and perhaps commenting on our tendency to keep these negative interactions hidden away.

Next was the world premiere of Val Caniparoli's new ballet, which offered an intense and beautiful study of suspension and release. A chamber piece for Mayo Sugano, Derek Sakakura, Hiromi Yamazaki and Robert Dekkers, "Tears From Above" follows the pathway of the limbs as they travel out from the core, reach their point of suspension and grow into a continuous shape. This melty tension was then contrasted with an equal and dramatic treatment of weighted release: weight in the body, weight in the air and the harnessing of those forces into choreographed movement. This suspension/release theme remained consistent throughout the different moods and tempi of Elena Kats-Chernin's music. The opening and middle sections had a sinuous, pulling quality followed by a very grounded allegro movement. "Tears From Above" was a gorgeous musing on oppositional physical forces, but more than anything, it demonstrated that Caniparoli's choreography is an all-in exercise - with his work, there is no half-way.

Rounding out the program was Septime Webre's 1995 composition, "Fluctuating Hemlines". Set to a percussion score, the entire ballet is an exciting staccato attack of the space with a two-fold concept. First is a very clear comment on the notion of appearance and reality. The men begin in dapper suits and the women in dresses and wigs; however, this initial costuming is short-lived (the women do put their wigs back on from time to time). The rest of the work finds the cast having shed their armor in favor of plain, yet revealing white tank-tops and shorts. This is a shedding of pretense, of fakeness, and of expectation and so, a fluctuation between the real and the imaginary. Second, and perhaps more literally, the technique itself fluctuated between various styles and genres. Though the women remained on pointe for the duration of the work, there were instances of classical ballet, modern dance and even some good old-fashioned jazz. "Fluctuating Hemlines" contains some of Webre's signature moves (his uniquely athletic jump sequences), but this fifteen-year-old piece is a little riskier - in a good way - than some of his current work.

"The Soldier's Tale"

2011-11-22T14:06:00.001-08:00

Photo by David Allen

By Igor Stravinsky & C.F. Ramuz
Directed by Muriel Maffre & Tom Ross
Aurora Theatre, Berkeley, CA
November 17, 2011

"The Soldier's Tale" follows one man's post-war experience as he attempts to deal with change, define his existence, confront evil temptation and discover contentment. While he journeys through these various seasons, he encounters the devil, played by Joan Mankin, who complicates his decision-making processes at every turn. In Aurora Theatre's version, the soldier appears in the form of a three-foot tall puppet, physically expressed by puppeteer Muriel Maffre and vocally by L. Peter Callender. Generally, I am not a fan of puppetry used as a theatrical tool in performance, but in "The Soldier's Tale", it was a rousing success.

At times, Maffre and the soldier puppet were a single entity, almost in a pas de deux, the two becoming one to articulate gestures and create shapes in space. The emotions and the movement emerged from a single impulse and then radiated outward. In an early scene, the soldier learns that his true love has moved on with her life while he was away. In despair, the puppet cradled his broken heart as Maffre gently picked him up off the ground. The pure power of that quiet moment was met by the audience's overwhelmed silence - you could literally hear a pin drop in the room. The integration, while astoundingly good, was only one part of their magical duet - the puppetry in "The Soldier's Tale" was really a multi-level endeavor. Yes, Maffre and the puppet were one character, but in addition, you could also see that they became extensions of each other, engaging in a two-way conversation. The fact that Maffre is a dancer clearly made a huge impact on the quality and clarity of the puppetry; she understands the human body, its physical expressiveness and its ability to transmit a narrative.

From a purely visually perspective, the soldier puppet was equally humanistic and anonymous. Combining the excellence of the puppetry with the puppet's design, the soldier really became human throughout the course of the show. At the same time, the generality of the puppet's features created a level of anonymity. This creature had an anyone/everyone quality, making the work very easy to relate to.

Toward the end of the piece, Maffre morphs into the daughter of the King, a woman who becomes the object of the soldier's affection and love. In a solo that she dances after her character recovers from an illness, the audience finally experiences the full splendor of Maffre's statuesque frame. Up until that point, she spent the majority of her stage time stooped over manipulating the puppet. Now she was free to extend, to jump, to rise and that freedom was very present in the mid-length divertissement (which Maffre also choreographed). While it was thrilling to see this amazing dancer moving with such beautiful abandon, the variation was a little busy. The Aurora Theatre space is fantastic, but small, and thus, any choreography needs to pay attention to that constraint. In a restricted space, expansive movement and constant motion can come across feeling a little claustrophobic.

RAW at The Garage

2011-11-11T15:24:00.001-08:00


Photo by Hollis Nolan

Featuring - "Faith" by Ronja Ver & "Lumen/Lux" by Katharine Hawthorne
The Garage, San Francisco
November 9th, 2011

On Wednesday night, The Garage welcomed another edition of its notable RAW program (resident artist workshop), with two new dance works: "Faith" by Ronja Ver and "Lumen/Lux" by Katharine Hawthorne. Both pieces embody the spirit of this special place: thinking outside the box, challenging the norms and making creative performance art.

Ronja Ver has envisioned a three-part piece with "Faith" that expresses a reverse treatment of pain. The first section shows the recovery; the moving forward; the new start, while the second and third scenes deal with past experiences of grief and despair. Performed as solo, Ver exposes herself and these issues with a genuine authenticity.

The opening moments found Ver walking in a slow diagonal from upstage right to downstage left. Each step forward was perfectly articulated with an exaggerated heel-ball-toe. Here was a definitive and direct journey towards something new as opposed to being away from something old. Once she reached her destination, the choreography shifted and became almost puppet-like, yet again, the common denominator of specificity and control was very present. The skeleton moved one part at a time, which brought forth the message: one small thing can and does create change; a deliberate and direct action can affect positively. The opening segment of "Faith" drives home the power of the self and the possibilities that everyone possesses to make their story better.

I would categorize the next two sections as more performance art than dance theater. Much of modern and post-modern choreographic undertakings include these types of non-dance vignettes. While a completely valid choice, performance art has never been a favorite of mine. I find the absurdity and randomness that is often present creates a disconnected narrative and doesn't really speak to the overall goal of the piece.

Katharine Hawthorne's "Lumen/Lux" studies the role and addition of light to movement. Hawthorne's combination of light and choreography yielded a fascinating experiment which both changed movement and affected outcomes. A trio for three dancers (Hawthorne, Megan Wright and Alisha Mitchell), "Lumen/Lux" revealed four important results as Hawthorne injected a flashlight bracelet into her modern dance physicality.

First, the light was able to increase the range of certain movements. A simple circling of the upper body became much bigger as the light worked in concert with the body, mimicking and following the same trajectory. All three dancers had a beautiful serpentine port de corps which was made even more lush with the introduction of light. Dynamic change was the second revelation, where a relatively benign step could take on a radically different quality when illuminated. When lit in a particular way, a sternum lift can go from simple to scary and crawling can be transformed into pained writhing. Third, we saw how the addition of light can work against choreography. This wasn't a bad thing at all - in fact, it was a positive discovery. When a light source is utilized at a specific angle, some of the other physical detail can be camouflaged. It creates a needed uncertainty in the mind of the audience - what did we miss as the light shifted around? In dance and in art, these questions are good. Last, the light in "Lumen/Lux" became an equal contributor to the work. There was an egalitarian quality that made the light like an additional performer or another limb. This was most apparent when one of the dancers was standing still and circling the light bracelet around the space; it was as if another body was running in a circuit.

The only criticism that I had of "Lumen/Lux" was that for anyone who suffers with even the slightest hint of motion sickness (like I do), they might feel a little headachy by the end of the evening. Even though there was no strobe present, the amount of 'moving light' was enough to make me a tiny bit queasy.

"Light Moves"

2011-11-04T16:49:00.000-07:00

Photo by Rapt Productions

Margaret Jenkins Dance Company
With live music by the Paul Dresher Ensemble
Novellus Theater at YBCA, San Francisco, CA
November 3rd, 2011

"Light Moves", the newest piece by the Margaret Jenkins Dance Company, premiered last night to a packed house at San Francisco's Yerba Buena Center for the Arts. A collaborative project, featuring choreography mixed with video, text and an original music score, this evening-length work celebrates the best of today's modern dance scene. During the seventy-minute physical journey, the primary theme was very clear: never-ending, constant motion. Fans of Jenkins' work were treated to many different sides of this brilliant choreographer: her artistic strengths shone and new choreographic interests were revealed.

As the curtain rose, the company entered in a tight-knit group from stage right already in the midst of a movement sequence. This gave the impression that the piece had started long before the lights went down - the audience may have thought that they were watching it from the beginning, but in fact, they were witnessing something already in progress. Utilization of the wing space was a theme throughout "Light Moves" and a major contribution to the work. So often the wings are relegated to the obvious: entrances and exits. Here, the wings were an extension of the performance and included some stunning choreography. My favorite was a recurring walk where the dancers came out of the wings already engaged in a circular pattern that included upper body curves and sternum lifts.

Jenkins' approach to interdisciplinary performance was and is a sight to behold. She clearly values collaboration (and a variety of types), but it is her treatment and direction of these multiple elements that really enchants. The components of "Light Moves" were engineered in such a way that they could peacefully co-exist, without competing for attention or overpowering each other. And, because there wasn't too many things happening all at once, the dance could literally take center stage.

Choreographically, "Light Moves" combined Jenkins' signature staccato work alongside slow, lush divertissements, providing wonderful and contrasting dynamic change. These latter scenes allowed suspended luxuriation, without the movement passing by so quickly. Particular noteworthy examples were the soft, supported jumps, calm fouettés, Ryan T. Smith's rond de jambe to parallel 2nd and Steffany Ferroni's relevé long in arabesque. Another unique choreographic tool is Jenkins' cluster sequences. She creates a human puzzle where the entire cast is visually and physically compact. The movement and levels are varied and performed full out without looking claustrophobic.

I saw a preview of this dance last October at the San Francisco Jewish Community Center and was heartened by one significant improvement in this premiere: the women's performative range. At the earlier viewing, the women only had one level of expression: angst-ridden seriousness. At times, they looked so pained that it was distracting from their technical achievements (with the exception of Steffany Ferroni who did not fall victim to this trap). Last night's performance saw a diverse spectrum of expression and emotion from all of the women. The angst was still there but it was appropriately placed and interspersed with equal amounts of joy and playfulness.

I do think that this company is going to have to deal with its technical variance fairly soon because, unfortunately, it is starting to come across onstage. Also, "Light Moves" is a little too long. There was a beautiful moment near the end where the text was scrolling up the hanging screens and Margaret Cromwell knelt, intensely watching it. This had all the characteristics of a final moment, where the credits roll. It was a natural ending point, and so, the dance that followed was a little disconnected and came across as a bit of an afterthought.

"Night Falls"

2011-10-25T12:22:00.000-07:00

Photo by Liz Payne

Written and Co-Directed by Julie Hébert
Choreographed and Co-Directed by Deborah Slater
ODC Theater, San Francisco, CA
October 21, 2011

Dance theater combines story and movement together in a theatrical expression. Dance used in this field exists on a spectrum, ranging from codified modern and ballet vocabulary all the way to very minimal physicality. While a very broad genre, all dance theater shares two requirements: integration and necessity. First, the story and movement must make sense and work together. And second, each entity must make unique contributions and have its own reason for being. This delicate balance is incredibly difficult to accomplish. "Night Falls", the new work by Julie Hébert and Deborah Slater, brilliantly captured the first goal - the movement and the narrative were definitely a cohesive unit used in combination to express the text. The choreography was a gestural interpretation of the words, serving an emphatic purpose. However, with respect to necessity, "Night Falls" missed the boat. The miming actions worked as emphasis and were well-integrated into the piece, but they lacked their own distinctive purpose. Unfortunately, the choreography came off as a mere accompaniment.

"Night Falls" was a merging of memory, fantasy and self as a woman (Peregrine, played by Joan Schirle) deals with the reality of her sixtieth birthday. As told through the intersection of her different-aged selves, we come to understand her fears: of getting older; of being vulnerable; of being humiliated; of being alone. By referring to her various life experiences, the younger and older versions expose Peregrine's inability to be wrong, to follow through, and to ask for help. "Night Falls" is a true coming of age story with significant depth and relatability.

As stated, the choreography served the text by creating an obvious physical embodiment of the spoken word. For example, when the actors told of rain or stars, the hands went overhead and fingers moved in a typing motion. As the story called for expressions of defiance, feet were stomped, arms thrown and fingers pointed. Scattered discombobulation was indicated with frenetic shaking. While very clear, the movement just wasn't needed to propel things forward. In fact, I found the use of gestures to be distracting at times. Hébert and Slater's story is great and the acting was phenomenal on Friday - "Night Falls" can stand on its own. Less really does say more. I think this works more as a play than a dance theater piece; check it out and see what you think.

RAWdance at Orson

2011-10-20T11:36:00.000-07:00

Photo by Dudley Flores

"a public affair"
Orson Restaurant Bar & Lounge, San Francisco
October 19, 2011

The modern dance world has always been a little ahead of its time, leading the creativity charge with outside-the-box thinking. Today's choreographers continue that pioneering artistic spirit with an influx of site-specific, alternative event performances. Though an exciting trend, it is always a risk - some pieces seem to thrive in multiple different environments while others simply do not do well outside of the proscenium arch. Last night, San Francisco dance lovers enjoyed site-specific experimental work done brilliantly; adapted to its chosen setting without losing any physicality. RAWdance's premiere of "a public affair" at Orson Restaurant Bar & Lounge in SOMA was visionary dance at its best.

Choreographed and performed by the dynamic Wendy Rein and Ryan T. Smith, "a public affair" emerged organically in Orson's dining room. The two began their ballet as patrons sitting down to eat at the center table. Even with some space constraints, this was an 'all-in' choreographic experience, with phenomenal extensions to the front and back and long attitudes à la second. The pas de deux included dramatic overhead lifts that were not at all hampered by the fact that dinner patrons were watching from inches away. Moments of eating were interspersed throughout the ten minutes, which kept the piece linked to and rooted in the space. Rein and Smith were not trying to forget or ignore that this performance was in a restaurant, in fact, as the dance progressed, one couldn't help but notice that "a public affair" was really a dinner conversation brought to life through movement.

Near the beginning, Rein and Smith took turns covering each other's faces with the dinner napkins - obviously interrupting and cutting each other off. What followed was a stunning combination of argumentative staccato sequences juxtaposed with quiet movements, mimicking the disagreements and silences that occur in any dialogue. Next, tender moments brought visions of love, affection and support: the standing lift, the leaning arabesque and the supported sobresaut. "a public affair" was definitely a partnered pas de deux, though there were also instances where Rein and Smith ventured out on their own; still spatially relating to each other but clearly separate. This reflected those parts of a conversation where you may appear to be listening but in actuality, are lost in your own thoughts. The piece concluded with the dancers returning to their original starting position, further reiterating that every physical expression we had just seen was an embodiment of how they had spoke to each other over a meal.

If you have the opportunity to see RAWdance, take it - they have well-crafted, unique choreography, an excellent sense of humor and technically superior dancers.

Smuin Ballet - Fall Program

2011-09-26T21:22:00.000-07:00


The Smuin Ballet Company in Dear Miss Cline, a world premiere by Amy Seiwert at the Palace of Fine Arts as a part of Smuin Ballet's fall program. Photo by David DeSilva.

Palace of Fine Arts, San Francisco, CA
September 23, 2011

The selections for Smuin Ballet's Fall program created a perfect balance of old and new. Opening weekend at The Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco brought the company's history to stage with three of Michael Smuin's works spanning thirty plus years: "Tango Palace" (2003), "Stabat Mater" (2002) and "Eternal Idol" (1969). The evening concluded with Amy Seiwert's much anticipated world premiere, "Dear Miss Cline".

"Tango Palace" examined the traditions of this dramatic dance through the choreography of three couples. Though all were purposely very different from each other in order to show various aspects of the tango, there were some common denominators. There was tango as flirtation: two people meet; they tease; they play; they entice; and then, finally they part. In addition, the tango was expressed as a passionate, yet fleeting affair. Within the music were recurring themes of discord and dissonance, indicating a level of suspension without resolve, perfectly balancing the percolating questions in the subtext of the ballet. Here was curiosity about another without the necessity of definitive answers. Toward the end of "Tango Palace", a shift in mood occurred as the female dancers changed out of their character shoes and donned pointes. Unfortunately, this section of the ballet was a poor conclusion for the tango study that had been unfolding. With the exception of Robin Cornwell and Jonathan Dummar, who were able to successfully combine the tango style with ballet vocabulary, the fun and passion dissipated and the energy completely fell. A little bit of a letdown for a piece that started so strongly.

With this year marking the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy, Smuin's response to this dark day was an appropriate choice for the 2011 Fall program. The takeaway from "Stabat Mater" is hope's survival amidst horror and suffering. A ten person dance, Smuin singled out one female role to embody aspirational faith, danced at this performance by Erin Yarbrough-Stewart. While she was flung all over the stage and haphazardly passed from person to person, her strength and resolve remained constant and palpable.

Though the oldest ballet on the bill, "Eternal Idol" was by far the best dancing and outstanding choreography of the night: Robin Cornwell and Jonathan Dummar truly were sculpture brought to life. A circular understanding of this visual artform was omnipresent. In the movement, we saw it in the rond de jambe (both à terre and en l'air), the port de bras and the ronde versé. And, in the narrative, Smuin shared how the life of a romance or a relationship is cyclical in nature. This pas de deux was an invitation to witness an intimate connection between two; a story of their bond and a glimpse into its ups and downs.

Nostalgia was the name of the game with Amy Seiwert's premiere work, "Dear Miss Cline". An ode to an earlier era, with amazingly accurate costumes and hair design, the piece was a musing on the notion of a society. The community aspect was very well communicated through the vignette-style choreography (short dances set to ten Patsy Cline recordings) both in the interaction of the couples and in the general camaraderie of the entire cast. While "Dear Miss Cline" was definitely an audience favorite, the lack of dynamic change was problematic. Much of the music existed at a moderate-to-low intensity level and the dance was similarly unchanged. The choreography was inventive and interesting, but the creative movement wasn't enough to overcome the flat dynamics. The absence of highs and lows makes for a ballet that reads as 'more of the same' .

"Dido and Aeneas" - Mark Morris Dance Group

2011-09-20T13:41:00.000-07:00

Presented by Cal Performances at Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley, CA
September 16, 2011

The opening of Cal Performances' new season is a highly anticipated event in the Bay Area as patrons ready themselves for an exciting year of world class artists. This past weekend kicked-off the dance series with Mark Morris Dance Group's "Dido and Aeneas". The tragic opera was transformed into an artistic collaboration with dancers and musicians performing each role accompanied by the superb Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra and Chorale, all conducted under the musical and artistic direction of Mark Morris.

The choreography of "Dido and Aeneas" was a perfect embodiment of the Greek style with precise, deliberate sequences that were specific in their positioning and their intent. Everything was perfectly placed and placed for a reason and a purpose, nothing blurry or wishy-washy. This allowed the events to be clearly conveyed and reminds us why codified, position-based modern dance was so successful for so long.

The intention of this dance-theater piece was to relate the epic tale of "Dido and Aeneas" through physical language, and Morris fully accomplished this goal: the chosen narrative was clearly transmitted. But the work was and is so much more than a simple gestural representation; he was able to inject the choreography with its own contributions and lessons without compromising the guiding storyline. The choreographic standout was Morris' treatment of the 'small' and how intricate details truly have the most unexpected meaning. The opening sequence found the cast propelling themselves around the stage with fast parallel boureés, and later in the work a similar small movement (this time, heel twists) was utilized to cover the vast space. Here we saw the transitions from one place to another; the starting and ending point were of course integral, but the in between, the journey is where the magic happened. Domingo Estrada Jr. as Aeneas had a strong, powerful and commanding presence, though the most telling part of his solo occurred as he turned his palms to face up and out. This seemingly insignificant motion said everything - he was opening up his heart and giving his soul away. Morris' ongoing theme of how small changes drastically affect one's existence was brilliant.

Though the majority of the piece was fantastic, some of the characters were a bit confusing. The recurring 'chorus' were a delight to watch: their choreography interesting and dynamic and their performance flawless. With this group of dancers, it seemed that Morris was trying to create a system where gender was left out of the equation: their androgyny was palpable. Unfortunately, with a story like "Dido and Aeneas", the gender-bending doesn't and didn't really work; it just looked campy. And while campy can be a valid, interesting and entertaining performance choice, in this case, the 'camp' just wasn't very good. Similarly, Amber Star Merkens' interpretation of Dido was choreographically masterful but relationally unconvincing. She didn't display any spark, desire or chemistry for Estrada's Aeneas, making it difficult to buy into their connection.

"The Bay Area Rhythm Exchange"

2011-08-22T11:48:00.000-07:00


Photo of John Kloss by Andy Mogg.

Stepology presents
"The Bay Area Rhythm Exchange"
Herbst Theatre, San Francisco, CA
August 19, 2011

The true test of an annual show is in its ability to preserve tradition while at the same time being able to produce something distinct, especially when many of the performers are the same each year. Stepology's 2011 presentation of "The Bay Area Rhythm Exchange" celebrated the talent, diversity and energy of percussive dance with a plethora of style, interpretation and approach. Though this event happens yearly in the Bay Area, the 2011 edition was unique and fabulous.

The headliners gave fantastic solo performances: John Kloss' taps were incredibly clear and his toe-heel combinations were super-human; Mark Mendonca is not only an amazing dancer, but also has the most easy, laid-back rapport with his audience. For me, the stand-out performer was Sam Weber. His upright, balletic style (almost like Merce Cunningham in tap shoes) differentiated him from the rest of the group, with tap sounds that had a much wider variance and dynamic spectrum. Everyone else favored and tended toward the harsher, louder 'down' into the floor choreography and so, most of their solo work seemed very much the same. Weber's approach allows him more freedom and increased versatility and as a result, his solos had intricacies that no one else could top.

Compared to last year's production, the floor mikes were hugely improved this time around; they picked up all the highs and lows of the choreography and movement, which for tap, is imperative. Having said that, I still find it strange that Stepology chooses this particular venue for its annual showcase. The Herbst Theatre is beautiful but the pitch of the seats does not provide a good viewing angle of the dancer's feet. Rhythm tap is just as much of a visual artform as it is audio and if you cannot see the feet, much of the performance is lost. The audience size was certainly a disappointment on Friday night. At the 2010 "Bay Area Rhythm Exchange", the house was completely packed and full of anticipation, excitement and awe. This year, the Herbst Theatre was less than half full - quite a let down for such an exhilarating performance.

"Terrain Project Performance"

2011-08-09T14:30:00.000-07:00

The New Ground Theatre Dance Company
an Arts Unity Movement Production
Notre Dame De Namur University Theater, Belmont, CA
August 6, 2011

The New Ground Theatre Dance Company's "Terrain Project Performance" demonstrated a skillful use of narrative mechanisms. A triptych work, "Terrain Project Performance" unfolded as follows: first, a woman's medical crisis; second, the explanation of how she arrived in that situation; what her life has looked like up until that moment and what circumstances have contributed to her current existence; and third, her heroic and freeing choice that creates a new life. Artistic Director Coleen Lorenz has produced a dance theater piece that reveals how women can empower themselves to both own and determine their reality and future.

The opening scene revealed the five main characters at the beginning of their day, each going through their individual routines to ready themselves for what may lie ahead. Here we saw stylized choreography (not a post-modern pedestrian expression of daily activities) and one could see the adjectives of each character through their movements: frustration, excitement, complacency and fear. Though a small portion of "Terrain Project Performance", this introductory scene was imperative - it set up who the major players were and the emotions that they carried inside of them.

Interspersed throughout the dance were video sequences of women's faces (primarily the eyes) and audio clips of them speaking. Projected onto the back scrim, these images spoke to Lorenz's goal: to provide a glimpse and insight into another's experience, understanding and condition.

The group sections were good and the dancers at Notre Dame De Namur University are receiving excellent and varied training (many of the cast are alumni or current students). In fact, these dancers are in better stead than students from some of the big university dance programs - they are being given a comprehensive approach to movement, where all styles have equal importance: ballet, jazz, modern, partnering and contact improvisation. This is an incredible accomplishment for this department. Having said that, all university dance programs have a similar issue that has to be acknowledged, and that is the wide variance in technical level. This does not always present a problem unless the choreography in question contains quite a bit of unison work as "Terrain Project Performance" did. When placed in unison, the technical differences between the dancers becomes overly emphasized and therefore can look a little messy (legs at different heights, jumps of different clarity, etc.). Steering away from unison is a better plan.

"Stars of American and Russian Ballet"

2011-07-25T11:04:00.000-07:00

Yuri Possokhov's "Talk to her". Photo by John Bonick

Black Swan Pas de Deux from "Swan Lake". Photo by John Bonick

Napa Valley Festival Del Sole
Lincoln Theater, Yountville, CA
July 22, 2011

The promise of a dance gala is that of something special. The gala suggests more than a regular performance; it is celebrity; distinction and majesty. And, when the title is 'Stars of American and Russian Ballet', one might anticipate even more opulence. Napa Valley Festival Del Sole's 2011 Dance Gala did not disappoint. Dancers from American Ballet Theatre, New York City Ballet, San Francisco Ballet and Bolshoi Ballet treated the packed house to a performance of a lifetime.

Act I provided a perfect mix of ballet's past and present with works by Marius Petipa, George Balanchine, August Bournonville and Yuri Possokhov. Possokhov's dramatically charged "Talk to her" was the evening's choreographic highlight and the audience favorite. Lorena Feijoo and Vitor Luiz danced this daring pas de deux on the dynamic and technical edge, the risky place where true magic happens. Utilizing Feijoo's pointe shoes as purposeful percussion was a fantastic touch. Irina Dvorovenko (American Ballet Theatre) was brilliant in the Black Swan pas de deux - perfectly alluring and devious at the same time. Her staccato approach to the choreography was an impeccable match for this character whose sole purpose is to captivate and capture the Prince's attention. The Bolshoi Ballet's "La Sylphide" was good though I think I'm a bit spoiled after just having seen The Royal Danish Ballet in this historic piece. The lightness and airiness that Bournonville demands was definitely present with the Bolshoi dancers, but it just wasn't quite as entrenched in the physicality as it is with the Royal Danish company. There was too much emphasis on height and technique and not enough attention to the articulation, quality and intonation of the steps.

The Bolshoi opened the second act with the adagio and trio from "The Oath of Ushers" and this ballet was both perfect for them and perfectly danced by them. Marianna Ryzhkina's boureés traveling backward gave an astonishing crescendo of urgency, emotion and intensity. Their interpretation and performance of Vladimir Vasiliev's choreography was beautifully artistic and very emotive - just stunning. The pas de deux from "Les Sylphides" demonstrated the forgotten art of repetition. Fokine's repeated use of boureé and relevé takes one back to the intricate foundations of classical ballet. Feijoo and Luiz returned in the pas de deux from "Le Corsaire", and though a little shaky at first, they quickly found their bearings and proceeded to give flawless individual solo variations in the coda section.

The two Balanchine works on the program ("Diamonds" pas de deux from "Jewels" and the pas de deux from "Agon") were danced by masters of Balanchine technique: New York City Ballet's Charles Askegard and Wendy Whelan. From the incredibly difficult fouettés to the off-balance poses and spins to the complex musical attack, they were the essence of Balanchine. In his work, dance, itself is the star and this vision is exactly what was communicated to the audience at the Lincoln Theater. However, I must admit that I found both of these excerpts to be too cold and detached. Whelan and Askegard were technically superior, but in terms of performance, it really was a little sanitized.

Post:Ballet in "Seconds"

2011-07-18T13:08:00.000-07:00


Post:Ballet, photography by Natalia Perez

Herbst Theatre, San Francisco, CA
July 16, 2011

After Post:Ballet's inaugural performance last summer at the Cowell Theater, I wrote, "Post:Ballet is going to be a group to watch over the next decade". This past weekend's follow-up season proved this comment to be accurate and perhaps an understatement. Artistic Director, Robert Dekkers and his company offered a gorgeous "Seconds" program that spoke of the past and the present: two pieces returned from 2010, "Flutter" and "Happiness of Pursuit" (establishing a lineage of repertory) in addition to two world premieres, "Colouring" and "Interference Pattern" (the creation of new work). This company's future looks brilliant - Post:Ballet is fantastic and a must-see for every ballet patron in the San Francisco Bay Area.

The first two pieces on the program were a testament to Dekkers' choreographic acumen and collaborative fervor. "Colouring" illustrated that repetition is the heartbeat of artistic collaboration. As Daniel Berkman performed his own musical composition, the dancers moved back and forth in the same pattern, meeting in the middle of the stage for a short choreographic sequence and then returning to their starting positions. While both the music and dance were happening, visual artist Enrique Quintero was creating a visualscape (white paint on a black background). As the piece continued, the movement phrase accumulated into a beautiful pas de deux while Quintero's scene also grew from simple lines and shapes into a cohesive picture. Here, Dekkers and Quintero were both visually reflecting the true experience of artistic collaboration. Hours and hours of working together may not always generate a vast quantity but the repetition does produce quality material. Trying and risking over and over again reveals meaning and relevance between the chosen arts. Quintero's final painting was the epitome of this collaborative journey. A long white horizontal line separated the view into two spaces, with a very minimal expression on top of the line and a very ornate and involved tableau beneath the line. Art's pulse and driving force is what happens beneath the surface, behind the scenes and before the stage.

Post:Ballet revisited "Flutter" (2010) again this season, though this time Dekkers opted to set the work on Daniel Marshalsay, Jonathan Mangosing and Christian Squires (last year this ballet was danced by three women). With this significant casting change, one would expect that "Flutter" would read differently. True, it was different, not better, not worse, but allowed a second and unique exposure to a familiar piece. The polyphonic interplay of his movement lines had a new attack; the intonation was more forceful, yet not at all aggressive. The articulation that Christian Squires has in his torso is amazing - he is able to understand his physicality as both dance and music. One thing that remained consistently true about "Flutter" was Dekkers' intuitive musicality; his knowledge of musical form and his ability to manifest his musical understanding into his choreography.

Dekkers has assembled an impressive group of dancers: all are technically sound, artistically mature and compelling to watch. But Beau Campbell deserves particular acknowledgement for her accomplishment in "Seconds". As a dance artist with Post:Ballet in both this and last year's season, she has clearly been pursuing, developing and honing the performance side of her art. Campbell's technical strength was and is without question, but she seems to know and realize that flawless technique is only one part (albeit a crucial one) of the performance equation. Her theatrical diligence is paying off - she absolutely shone onstage.

Mary Armentrout Dance Theater

2011-07-11T15:02:00.000-07:00

"the woman invisible to herself"
The Biscuit Factory, Oakland, CA
July 10, 2011

Photo by Ian Winters

Dance is such a fleeting entity; it only exists for a brief moment and then it is gone. The memory, photos and video can provide some archival records but they can never truly capture or re-capture the specialness of live performance. This impermanence is very apparent to me when seeing the same dance, in the same venue with the same cast for a second time. Whether the piece is unchanged or if it features new/revamped choreography, the takeaway is that no two performances are ever identical. Mary Armentrout Dance Theater's second run of "the woman invisible to herself" at The Biscuit Factory in Oakland facilitated an encounter with the familiar alongside different experiences and new observations.

My initial sense of the piece was verified and confirmed in this, my second exposure to "the woman invisible to herself". Here, Armentrout has combined true post-modern form with strong narrative content, revealing important nuances about egalitarianism, non-conformity and the porous border between life and art. Much of the dance resonated again with these concepts, though it was interesting to discover aspects of the work that I had missed the first time around, which spoke equally to and of Armentrout's artistic mission.

Two of the pre-performance installations were infused with egalitarianism and succeeded in blurring the lines between life and art. A video segment of Armentrout revealed truths about herself while also posing real questions to the viewer, creating a participatory equality between the performer and the audience. Another pre-performance segment found the dancers in one of the hallways working with the interplay of light, shadow, form and movement. This captivating hypnotic sequence was a lesson in accessibility, demonstrating the ease in which an everyday gesture can morph into dance. The suggestion here was that every movement (common or choreographed) has an inherent energy to it and it is up to each individual to find, unlock and harness this simmering electricity.

The choreography brilliantly articulated "the woman invisible to herself's" unique approach to structure and story. In the mirror vignette, arms followed circular pathways while the head was in constant motion - a physical comment that personality and the self is a changeable idea. The individual performances in the mobile second scene (in the realm of the selves) all contained new revelations for me. Armentrout's solo had no stopping point; it was a stream of consciousness constructed like a Baroque fugue. Interdependent lines of movement arose from every point of physicality and wove a truly polyphonic texture. Frances Rosario also challenged the space between audience and performer by not only speaking directly to us, but also interacting choreographically with us. Nol Simonse's sequence was a study of opposites: suspension & fall; stretch & flexion; exposure & hiding; expanse & closure; attachment & detachment. Lastly, Natalie Greene embodied the notion of being off-balance, and we witnessed her desperate search for the serenity of calm.

In my previous review, I noted some criticisms of the second act. This latter part of the piece remains the same, though this time, it had a different effect on me. In 'the confession', Armentrout takes the disturbing notion of self-destruction and conveys it in a very honest, frank, matter-of-fact and somewhat soothing context. Her approach of placing this silent issue in the public arena through performance took away some of its power, shame and scariness by transforming it into a human discussion instead of something that is hidden away and not talked about.

Read my review of last fall's performance:
http://www.heatherdance.com/2010/09/woman-invisible-to-herself-mary.html

Jonah Bokaer and The Guggenheim Museum

2011-07-06T15:32:00.000-07:00

'From “FILTER” to “On Vanishing”: Jonah Bokaer and The Guggenheim Museum'

Commissioned in part by The Guggenheim Museum (from the Fall 2010 Works & Process series), Jonah Bokaer's, “FILTER”, validated his position as a significant dance-maker. This work has everything that one could want from the current dance field: a post-modern sensibility, a choreographic aesthetic and an academic concept.

Because of Bokaer's unique approach to post-modern dance, “FILTER” was an incredibly accessible work. Rather than focusing on an obvious pedestrian interpretation of movement, Bokaer favored simple, intentional, deliberate, and choreographically codified combinations: the arm traveling straight up the body; the palm reaching forward, the spine rolling through the vertebrae. Bokaer transformed these motions from commonality to dance by taking the post-modern ideal of attainable physicality and placing it in a compelling narrative context.

Conceptually, “FILTER” ruminated on the complex relationship between the independent and the interdependent. And, through this dance, Bokaer explored how shapes, positions and movement in space embody both elements. At times, the cast was four independent individuals working with and within their own bodies, completely unaffected by the other dancers. Then, the four men truly became one entity, joining forces to create collaborative interdependent positions, with each other and with the stage design. The table plank that resided center stage required the participation of all four dancers for it to be fully realized and integrated into the work. Bokaer clearly understands that good modern choreography speaks to both issues: independent structures and interdependent form.

Bokaer and The Guggenheim are about to embark on another artistic collaboration, this time, with a site-specific live performance on the museum's rotunda floor in New York City. “On Vanishing” will feature Bokaer's choreography amidst a current sculptural installation, 'Lee Ufan: Marking Infinity'. It will be interesting to see if his independent/interdependent theme continues to weave through this next project. With the transformation of the human body through movement juxtaposed against the living breathing entity that is sculpture, the possibilities for this performance are endless.

Showing at The Guggenheim Museum in New York City on July 14, 6pm only; 8pm SOLD OUT.
For further details about “On Vanishing”, please visit:
http://guggenheim.org/onvanishing

To see video clips of Jonah Bokaer's work, go to http://vimeo.com/jonahbokaer

Mary Carbonara Dances

2011-06-11T13:49:00.000-07:00

"What Does It Feel Like to Kill Someone?" (world premiere)
KUNST-STOFF Arts, San Francisco, CA
June 10, 2011

Dancer: Kerry Demme
Photo credit: Karen Asensio

Not often, but every once in a while, a dance piece transforms the artistic field, adding value to and changing its genre. There is a sense that you have borne witness to something extraordinary and that dance is not the same and will not be the same because of the work's existence. Twyla Tharp's "Deuce Coupe" fused ballet and modern together; Bill T. Jones' "Still/Here" created on-going dialogue between artists and critics; and now, we have Mary Carbonara's "What Does It Feel Like to Kill Someone?" which streamlines dance theater to its core and essence. Carbonara's incredible narrative journey represents what modern dance theater should be - no frills; no gimmicks; no peripheral elements, just pure choreographic brilliance. This world premiere reveals that when deeply meaningful movement is combined with talented, committed performers, dance theater is forever changed.

"What Does It Feel Like to Kill Someone?" began without any fanfare or lighting cues; it simply emerged organically in the room. This first scene found the dancers creating an obituary wall, writing names with chalk on the studio's exposed brick. Here was an incredibly present and intentional showing of comfort and remembrance; they all watched intently and supported each other with the laying on of hands. Then, the air shifted and all five performers entered the space for the first diagonal sequence, which had a definite crescendo both in terms of speed and intensity. This introduction spiraled into choreographic abandon, with urgent, angry and violent movements. You could see the desperation and fear on their faces and in their bodies. Lifts took on a pulling, pushing and grabbing feel, and arms morphed into weapons (evident in the jerky, staccato treatment of the hands and fingers). A particular sequence oozed with angst and suffering as one of the men undertook a slow, flexed grand rond de jambe followed by an urgent single-legged fouetté; it was like his pain was being transmitted into the universe from his limbs. The narrative was cleverly being told in reverse order. The chalkboard opening actually felt like the end of the story (the remembrance of death) while the rest of the piece revealed the circumstances that lead to that place of mourning.

The dance theater aspect of this piece was very apparent: a focus on inhumanity with no resolution; no explanation and no justice. Carbonara unpacked the idea of inflicted human trauma and left it for the audience to experience. Dancers were being overpowered and controlled by each other - continually thrown against the wall and pushed to the floor in a purposeful effort to break their spirit. And, the viewer was forced to confront their own complacency when bad things happen. The wall shadows that were created in the studio reminded us that we often look at difficult situations through a filter and as the final female solo began, one quiet movement screamed for recognition in the performance space. As her hand delved into her chest, she simultaneously contracted and curved her upper body over a parallel passé leg. The message of this pose was so plain - human suffering should destroy us, break our hearts and rock us to our very core; if it doesn't, then we aren't paying attention.

"Tales of the City"

2011-06-10T11:02:00.000-07:00

Mary Ann Singleton (Betsy Wolfe) is seduced by
the married Beauchamp Day (Andrew Samonsky).
Photo by Kevin Berne.

Armistead Maupin's "Tales of the City"
American Conservatory Theater, San Francisco, CA
June 8, 2011

In any musical, each aspect of the production must serve the story: the text, the vocals, the set design and the choreography. The dance portions must provide situational context, character insight and most, importantly, propel the narrative forward. If dance accomplishes these goals, it can count itself as an active and valuable contributor in the musical genre. Larry Keigwin's choreography in ACT's "Tales of the City" definitely fulfilled these promises. While the movement was neither difficult nor transformative, it succeeded in doing its job: serving the story by placing the action in a specific place at a identifiable time as well as revealing the relationships between and truths about the characters. The movement was clever, accessible (both to the audience and for the cast), and applicable.

The first musical number, "Nobody's City", was full of typical 1970s fare, situating the story in a specific era and location. The disco choreography was so fun to watch and in his night-club inspired dance sequences, Keigwin individualized the steps to communicate the characters' personalities: the fun-loving Connie (Julie Reiber) committed fully with her entire physicality, while newcomer Mary Ann (Betsy Wolfe) struggled to let go. "Tales of the City's" most ingenious choreography was actually the least 'dancey'. In the advertising office scenes, Keigwin was able to capture the hustle and bustle of this particular environment using a combination of marching, deliberate walking, directional changes and levels. It was fantastic. "Bolero", the tango number, was a perfect choreographic match for the seductive scene between Mary Ann and Beauchamp Day (Andrew Samonsky). The tango itself is a dance of seduction and through this piece we saw their relationship move from casual flirting to the next level. The bathhouse scene was another standout choreographic moment. Here, Keigwin employed contact improvisation-style movements which really spoke to and of this unique culture.

The music was clever and funny, though somewhat trite and definitely 'in the style of' other musicals. Appropriation happens all the time in performance art, though the music here fell too heavily in that camp. I also wish that we had been able to hear the vocals. The sound mix was clearly off on Wednesday evening - the music overpowered the singers to the point where, at times, it was difficult to hear and understand the words (even from the fourth row).

Any new musical will go through several editing iterations and I imagine "Tales of the City" has already been pared down quite a bit. Even knowing that, I felt that there were still too many featured characters. The audience needs to get involved with and care about the individuals in the story and with the introduction of so many new characters throughout the entire play (we met two new people well into Act II and a whole host of personas near the end of Act I), it was hard to feel drawn into each person's journey. It was too crowded, both literally and figuratively.

The Royal Danish Ballet

2011-06-03T11:38:00.000-07:00

Ulrik Birkkajer of The Royal Danish Ballet. Photo by Henrik Stenberg

Gitte Lindstrom, Morten Eggert and Izabela Sokolowska of The Royal Danish Ballet.
Photo by Martin Mydtskov Ronne

Presented by Cal Performances
Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley, CA
June 1, 2011

For any dance history scholar, a chance to see The Royal Danish Ballet in person is something special. This company and the Bournonville legacy dominate the historical ballet literature with their significant contributions. Ballet, as we know it today, exists in part because of Bournonville. There are steps that he created; teaching techniques that he developed; and an aesthetic that he carefully and diligently fostered still present in today's classical and contemporary repertoire. We all owe a great deal to this artistic master. And, the Bay Area was fortunate and blessed to see his beloved company, The Royal Danish Ballet, as presented by Cal Performances at Zellerbach Hall.

Lightness of movement coupled with darkness of theme was the major takeaway from Program A (Flemming Flindt's "The Lesson" & August Bournonville's "La Sylphide"). The Royal Danish Ballet's floating, airy quality was apparent in all aspects of the dancing and as a viewer, one could clearly see that this is the company's physical history; the lightness of movement is part of them, deeply embedded in their souls. Gudrun Bojesen's interpretation of La Sylphide perfectly transmitted the famous Bournonville petit allegro, allowing the quick, intricate steps to literally sing from the stage. Her silent boureés, exquisite entre chat trois and sissone crescendo were the expression of otherworldly. Other stunning moments for Bojesen included her pirouette on demi-pointe and the treatment of her hands. With one simple open-palmed gesture, she seemed to just float away. Another standout performance was Louise Østergaard as Effy. In her first solo (particularly the glissade sequence), she was still able to translate Bournonville's light, airy ballon despite dancing in heeled character shoes. This sophisticated choreography was so much more interesting than the typical thirty-two fouettés and grand jumps.

While the beauty of Bournonville movement showed in both "La Sylphide" and "The Lesson", the narrative themes of each spoke of bleak foreboding. During a very educational and compelling talk-back, one of The Royal Danish Ballet's dancers reflected on the different guesses as to what "La Sylphide" is trying to teach us. As he told us, some argue that the piece reveals the trepidation one can feel before marriage; still others suggest that it is a man versus nature ballet. I can definitely see those analyses in the piece, though other thoughts came to mind as well. James' story as explored through Bournonville's gorgeous choreography is also an observation of dream versus obligation, and a very sad statement on how some fail to articulate what they want out of life.

"The Lesson" follows a three-part narrative structure: the early interactions (at times, comic) of the three characters (the ballet master, the student and the pianist); the catalytic event (the introduction of the pointe shoes), which leads into a final demonic and violent descent. The opening, 'lighter' scenes were almost a farcical caricature of the ballet world: the eccentric teacher, the doe-eyed student and the stoic accompanist. Then came the moment of transition, where the evil intentions of this classroom came to light - personified by the introduction of pointe shoes. Up until that point, the student had been taking her class in soft ballet flats. As she donned the new satin slippers, the comedic exercise turned into a creepy, threatening, lecherous pas de deux. The ballet master's control and domination was so total and it resulted in the student's tragic demise. "The Lesson" ended as it had began with the pianist organizing the room, and as the ballet finished, it was clear that she was actually 're-organizing' the space - clearing it of the horror that had just occurred and preparing it for the next encounter. Flindt's piece is the epitome of dance theater - he showed us the dark side of humanity and left us to experience and sit with what we had seen. No explanation; no justice; no reason.

"Body Evidence"

2011-05-16T11:56:00.000-07:00

Opiyo Okach & Gaara Project in
"Body Evidence" (Work-in-Progress)
YBCA Forum, San Francisco, CA
May 20, 2011

Year after year, Yerba Buena Center for the Arts continually distinguishes itself as a leading arts organization. Aside from the 'big' venue performances, they have countless additional projects (including the "Encounter: Engaging the Social Context" series) that encourage the intersection of emerging artists, their work and the arts community. Last weekend, this program welcomed Kenyan choreographer Opiyo Okach and his current work-in-progress, "Body Evidence" to the YBCA Forum. Though steeped in significant and important narrative meaning, the brilliant A-B-A structure of the work demanded primary focus.

"Body Evidence" was divided into three sections. The first was dancing only; the second, dance and the addition of two props (a mask and a flag); and the third, dance alongside multi-media. This crescendo of theatrical tools worked extremely well. By limiting the first segment to choreography, Okach established the importance of the movement. Then, in each subsequent section, he added something to the dance, not replacing it, but embellishing and expanding on the physicality. These were carefully crafted and successful performative building blocks because they were explored through the strong foundation of dance.

Dynamically, the three vignettes followed a very clear A-B-A format. The beginning and ending employed smooth, legato, serpentine movements, sandwiched around a staccato, abrupt, urgent middle portion. The choreographic syntax also followed this A-B-A pattern. The movement ideas from the opening returned in the end, and the in between space was filled with contrasting units of action: galloping, skipping, trenching and grapevining through the performance space.

The rondo form was also very present and smartly embedded within section number one. As Okach cycled through dance born from his center core (the limbs responded only because of the initiation in the spine and torso), there were several 'home' or 'returned to' poses: a squat, a version of the downward facing dog, and an arm raised limply in the air. Here was a physical concerto; solos combined with ritornellos, providing an extra helping of structural cohesiveness. Opiyo Okach is a choreographer to watch - he is able to produce deeply narrative modern dance, clearly communicated by his considerable structural acumen.

"Inside the Dancer's Studio" - Diablo Ballet

2011-05-12T11:56:00.000-07:00

Mayo Sugano and Rory Hohenstein. Photo credit: Aris Bernales

Shadelands Arts Center, Walnut Creek, CA
May 7, 2011

It is fantastic to see ballet companies who are cultivating long-term relationships with their subscribers. In addition to the expected big theater performances. many seasons now include Q&A sessions and shorter programs in smaller venues. New York Theatre Ballet's "Dance on a Shoestring" is a wonderful example of this trend, showcasing its company repertoire in a studio theater with very affordable ticket prices. Diablo Ballet must also be added to this list of arts innovators. Their "Inside the Dancer's Studio" series allows increased access to quality ballet: incredible talent, varied repertory and high production value all in a close-knit, intimate setting. This outside-the-box thinking is what builds lifelong support for the arts.

The six offerings on Diablo Ballet's spring program showcased the significant breadth of this company. The lights went up on the first excerpt to reveal Mayo Sugano and Jekyns Pelaez in George Balanchine's "Apollo". Their pas de deux was astonishing and Sugano's batterie truly gave Stravinsky's music new life. The second piece, "Shadow" was choreographed by company member David Fonnegra and danced by the exquisite Tetyana Martyanova, reminiscent of a young Merrill Ashley. Fonnegra's contemporary choreography was quite interesting, particularly his treatment of the arms. The shoulders were a focus of his, as well as the scapula, where the arms initiate in the back. This led to some unique arm positions, none of which could be considered typically ballet. Fonnegra also experimented with levels, have Martyanova move very quickly from standing to rolling. Occasionally these transitions were a little awkward and maybe a tad abrupt.

Sally Streets' "Encores" was my favorite piece of the afternoon. In it, we were treated to amazing lifts in the first pas de deux and delightful flirtation in the second. Edward Stegge's double pirouettes were absolute perfection and with the audience being so close, there is nowhere to hide. I was also heartened by his emboite turns. Even though this ballet step is a favorite of choreographers, it is not often performed very well. With Stegge, I think I finally saw emboite the way it was meant to be danced. "My Way", by Tina Kay Bohnstedt, was a choreographic celebration of groundedness. With the exception of a couple of jumps, this piece, danced beautifully by David Fonnegra and Rory Hohenstein, was anchored to the floor. Bohnstedt was able to illustrate that spectacle does not only exist in the air, it is also present in contact with the ground.

Company C Contemporary Ballet - Spring Program 2011

2011-05-03T14:09:00.000-07:00

Kristin Lindsay and Robert Dekkers in Jodi Gates' "Slip-Ring". Photo credit: David deSilva

Palace of Fine Arts Theater, San Francisco, CA
April 30, 2011

Company C Contemporary Ballet's 2011 Spring Program was my second encounter with this dynamic group of artists. With two world premieres (Charles Anderson's "Ballet Noir" & Jodie Gates' "Slip-Ring"), Patrick Corbin's "Psychedelic Six-Pack" and Twyla Tharp's "Surfer at the River Styx", Company C has proven yet again that they are a leading contributor to the genre of contemporary ballet.

"Ballet Noir" took us inside the subconscious of a genius. As Robert Dekkers (who played the role of the choreographer) sat attached to a chair, his creation and imagination spun around him. A bizarre, and somewhat unrelated cast of characters filled the stage including three muses - similar to Balanchine's "Apollo", though a much sexier interpretation. "Ballet Noir's" scene was his [Dekkers', as the choreographer] vision, his orchestration, yet he was limited to watching it unfold. His main participation occurred in the very last moment of the piece, when he stood up and was kissed on the cheek by one of the dancers. It was almost a goodbye; as if his mobility caused the dream to disappear. Charles Anderson's new work definitely drew the audience in, though the subtext would benefit from the dance being slightly longer.

Jodie Gates' "Slip-Ring" was a non-narrative juxtaposition of angular and circular sequences. The piece was filled with straight, sharp, staccato choreography, but in order to fulfill those movements, the body had to travel on and in circular pathways. Gates was very successful in illustrating that the pursuit of one course may require you to journey in the completely opposite direction.

The excerpts from Patrick Corbin's "Psychedelic Six-Pack" brought together the tribal, social, spiritual and sacrificial aspects of society while exploring the combination of ballet and modern dance. In the midst of much stage activity, some individual moments particularly stood out. A recurring pose where the dancers stood in parallel fourth position as their palm reached up to the heavens provided simplicity, stillness, groundedness and hope. And, Chantelle Pianetta's combination of jazz inspired lay-outs followed by crisp glissades in fifth position was a beautiful commentary - the traditional meeting the contemporary.

"Surfer at the River Styx" was not a typical Twyla Tharp composition - much darker and emotive than her earlier work, its choreography was clearly a departure. "Surfer at the River Styx" wasn't my favorite (the dance is far too long), though I must admit that the content was much clearer than I have come to expect from her work. For me, her dances feel frenetic, manic and sometimes hard to follow due to the dense physical material that she opts to include in one piece. With so much going on at once, her choreographic brilliance gets lost in the commotion. Here, the action was much more focused and her treatment of modern technique even seemed to have a little Cunningham flavor.

San Francisco Ballet - Program 6

2011-04-21T18:26:00.000-07:00

War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco, CA

April 20, 2011

SF Ballet in Tomasson's "7 For Eight". Photo by Erik Tomasson

Helgi Tomasson orchestrated a simply beautiful Program 6 for San Francisco Ballet, with three contrasting, yet complementary pieces: Christopher Wheeldon's “Ghosts©”, Tomasson's “7 for Eight” and the much anticipated SFB premiere of Wayne McGregor's “Chroma”. Mixed repertory nights need a delicate balance: dances that are the perfect length (not too short and not too long), a variety of choreographic styles, and ballets that showcase the strengths of the company. Program 6 demonstrates once again that San Francisco Ballet can truly do it all, and do it fantastically.

I am never sure what Christopher Wheeldon's ballets are supposed to be about (if, in fact, they are meant to be about anything). This was partly true with “Ghosts©”, though I did sense a theme of and comment on romance. Perhaps it was the hair and the costumes that alluded to an earlier time when propriety, chivalry and courtship reigned supreme or maybe it was the elegant, precise choreography. Maria Kochetkova and Courtney Elizabeth gave the two stand-out performances on Wednesday evening. They were both able to be appropriately dramatic without letting the drama overtake their technique. Their interpretation of Wheeldon's composition, especially the stunning footwork (intricate sissones and temps de cuisse) shone while these detailed choreographic touches were missed by others, who tended to get a little lost in the drama.

Having seen many Helgi Tomasson ballets, I can say without doubt that “7 for Eight” is my absolute favorite. His neo-classical treatment of the ballet lexicon provides spectacle, beauty and artistry and his creative partnering (lifts and balances) speaks to the limitless promise of two bodies moving together in space. Sarah Van Patten's turns into arabesque and her developpé in second perfectly punctuated Bach's polyphonic music. Her promenade in the ballet's sixth movement was as quiet and exact as the trilling mordent that accompanied her. “7 For Eight” is a special piece; it defines Tomasson as a choreographic genius.

Delighted gasps filled the War Memorial Opera House as Wayne McGregor's “Chroma” opened to reveal a brightly lit stark white stage (floor and walls). McGregor has composed a work that brings the brilliant combination of future and past to life through dance. The setting was forward- thinking (modern minimalism meets a futuristic video game) while the movements looked back to 1970s/1980s jazz and modern (at times, very sexualized). The choreography was a completely different feel than the design, but the two worked together in harmony. This piece also showed a different side of Yuan Yuan Tan – her first sequence revealed the freedom, flexibility and expression that she has in her torso. So often, the focus is on her feet and extensions; what a treat to see other aspects of her dancing highlighted.

"Making the Road by Walking"

2011-04-20T16:39:00.000-07:00


Photo by Claire Gilbert

The ODC Dance Jam Home Season
ODC Dance Commons, San Francisco, CA
April 17, 2011

The ODC Dance Jam, performed by the inspiring young dancers of ODC's youth company, celebrated the gift of movement. Under the direction of Kimi Okada and KT Nelson, this group is dedicated to preserving the heritage and lineage of modern dance, in addition to pursuing the genre's current trends and innovations. Okada and Nelson are providing a complete and comprehensive dance education, unlike any program I have ever seen. What a unique opportunity to see the dancers at this stage of their training - in process: learning their craft, developing their technique and presenting their work onstage. The ODC Dance Jam offers two important perspectives: the choreography, the making of dance combined with the teaching and fostering of talent, the making of dancers.

The opening piece, Nelson's "There's So Much to Do (to save the world)" really embodied the discovery and understanding of modern dance technique. It was obvious that the troupe is working very hard to achieve a true second position in both developpé and grand battement. The dancers are learning how to maximize turnout, engage the hip flexor and relax the thigh muscle while working in their own individual second position. They are also spending significant time and energy defining the different paths of grand battement and developpé. This attention to proper placement and technique is going to serve them well as they continue to dance, either recreationally or professionally.

Greg Dawson's "Output 1-2" showed that these kids are also mastering partnering skills. Partnering is always a delicate balance of working independently and interdependently; you must first know your part inside and out, and only then can you work with another dancer as a unified team. Bravo to Okada and Nelson for sharing the essential pas de deux equation: personal responsibility + trust + respect.

The remaining dances were indicative of the choreographic and stylistic variety that exists in the modern dance lexicon. "Mixing Ground", choreographed by Bliss Kohlmyer, juxtaposed angular, staccato actions with flowy circular sequences while Nol Simonse's "Space Walk" added contact improvisation. "The Crowd" harkened back to the post-modern era with the influence of pedestrian movement and everyday gestures. And though I am not a fan of Kim Epifano's "Melt" (I've seen it before and it is still far too 'on the nose' narratively), it does provide an introduction to interdisciplinary performance. These days, dancers are called upon to fill many roles, so a piece that incorporates song, text and movement is an important part of their education.

If you have never been to the ODC Dance Jam, you must add it to your 'to-do' list. After seeing the performance last weekend, I know that I will be reviewing some of these young dancers over the next decade or two as they become members of the professional dance scene.

"Triangle of the Squinches"

2011-04-19T11:40:00.000-07:00

Alonzo King LINES Ballet
Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco, CA
April 16, 2011

Alonzo King LINES Ballet's newest production, "Triangle of the Squinches" featured an all-star artistic line-up: choreography by Alonzo King, set design by architect Christopher Haas and music by Mickey Hart. "Triangle of the Squinches" definitely celebrated the contributions of these three amazing visions; the individual pieces showcasing how each has mastered their craft. Such an immense talent pool would suggest a work of deep artistic collaboration though, hope and reality do not always add up. The three units (dance, set and music) were striking on their own, but on the whole, the piece lacked cohesiveness.

Act I found the LINES Ballet dancers moving amidst a 'loom-like' set with long white stretchy fibers attached to a frame. The structure was both modular and pliable; sections could be detached and shifted in order to change the dimension and the strings could be pulled and flexed allowing movement and travel through the impermanent wall. The dancers interacted a little with this first set piece but not enough to actually integrate the two entities artistically. Here, the set was less of a theatrical tool and more of a backdrop. The bare stage at the opening of Act II gave the audience a chance to experience the movement completely unencumbered (particularly the extraordinary quality of Courtney Henry's balances). Then, the second set piece emerged - a fence-like form that looked to be made of industrial strength cardboard. Though the dance and design still suffered from some level of disassociation, Act II was markedly better than Act I. The potential for meaning when the two are enmeshed was especially apparent in segment four. As Keelan Whitmore crawled across the front of the fence, King's choreography and Haas' set spoke to issues of fear, safety, and security. And, as dancers reached for him from the other side through the structural gaps, one could sense the longing and yearning for that which we can see and touch but cannot have.

Even though I found "Triangle of the Squinches" to have some formal challenges, the audience response was overwhelmingly positive and supportive on Saturday night. And, I do agree that the piece was captivating. But, based on my previous experience with King's fantastic work, it didn't quite meet my expectation. "Triangle of the Squinches" was good, but with a deeper connection between the artistic components, I think it could be great.

"Sins Invalid"

2011-04-12T12:00:00.000-07:00


Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha. Photo courtesy of "Sins Invalid"

"Sins Invalid" - An Unshamed Claim to Beauty in the Face of Invisibility
Z Space, San Francisco, CA
April 8, 2011

The 5th Annual Installment of "Sins Invalid" played to a packed house this past weekend at Z Space in San Francisco. A comment on inclusion, diversity and visibility, Patricia Berne's interdisciplinary project was comprised of a dozen or so short vignettes. Each meaningful, potent scene took a personal story and immersed it in theatrical elements: text, video, song, and dance. Both the content and the artist performances were fantastic, but from a conceptual perspective, the use of dance in "Sins Invalid" was very confusing.

Each act contained a number of different movement sequences that were all scored by audio texts. While the stories were both powerful and compelling, unfortunately, the dance was not an equal contributor. Instead, its inherent possibilities were stripped away until it became a mere accompaniment; completely subservient to the text. When text underscores dance, there is always a danger that the choreography will morph into a gestural story, and when that happens, the beauty and meaning that can be shown by the physical movement is diminished. This is exactly what happened with "Sins Invalid" - the choreography was a very obvious physical interpretation of the words, teetering close to mime in some instances. It (dance) was given no opportunity to say, offer or contribute to the narrative theme on its own. The movement was not just heavily framed by the text, it was made invisible in favor of this other theatrical element.   For a work whose message was that of freedom, strength and visibility, this treatment of dance really struck me as strange.

There were a couple of other logistic elements that took away from the overall performance as well. First, "Sins Invalid" started twenty minutes late on Friday night, with absolutely no explanation as to why or what was happening. I admit that may be picky, but it is a real pet peeve of mine. We had no idea whether there was a technical problem or if something else was going on backstage, and maybe we didn't really need to know the cause of the delay. But, we did need some communication - someone to announce that the curtain was being held. Second, during some very serious (and quiet) moments, we could hear the uproarious laughter rising from the comedy performance playing in one of Z Space's other stages. Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha did an amazing job of keeping her composure during one of her very intimate monologues with this significant interruption. One would hope that this distraction would have come to light during tech week and be dealt with.

"5 Soliders" - an interactive dance experience

2011-03-31T10:48:00.000-07:00

“5 Soldiers – The Body is the Frontline”

Rosie Kay Dance Company

Interactive film - http://www.5soldiers.co.uk/

I am not usually a fan of dance films nor filmed dance. I find that in both circumstances, the viewer is at the mercy of the video artist – they decide what angles are seen, which dancers are featured, and at what distance the work is recorded. But, collaborators Aquila TV, Meshed Media and the Rosie Kay Dance Company have figured out how to conquer these obstacles. Their recently launched interactive version of Kay's “5 Soldiers – The Body is the Frontline” (at http://www.5soldiers.co.uk) brings with it two significant contributions; not only does it speak to a unique relationship between dance and technology, but the piece itself is an absolutely brilliant choreographic work.

“5 Soldiers” is a three-part study of the soldier existence. The first segment examined training, with marching formations and unison choreography. As the five dancers breathed together, their synchronicity and oneness was evident, illustrating a very fundamental connection. Next came camaraderie, as the four men rocked out to house music in true fraternity, nightclub fashion. This comment on togetherness and brotherhood was powerful albeit brief, as the scene quickly morphed into a land of aggressiveness, objectification and sexualization. Celebratory dancing turned to angry punches, powerful shoves and headlocks. Then, as the lone female of the cast began a cycle of extensions (full pencheé arabesques, grand battements, lay-outs and splits in second), the men froze and creepily stared at her. Eventually, they appropriated her movements and this middle section ended with a confrontational standoff between her and the four men. “5 Soldiers'” final topic was that of battle, complete with a helicopter movement motif and an ending moment of mortality.

The numerous viewing options allow for ultimate audience customization. You can watch the entire piece shot from four different angles, you can track one particular dancer, or you can follow the performers' point of view via their 'head cam'. This system truly transforms the viewer into an active participant with the different perspectives delivering unexpected insights. The 'head cam' gave an extra dimension of physicality with its shakiness – an authentic experience of what was actually happening in the dancer's body as they moved through the choreography. The single-dancer tracking was equally revealing. As I watched the woman's solo in isolation, I realized that the movements themselves did not appear sexual at all, instead, it was her environment that had provided this earlier observed tension. Her variation was simply an exploration of the body's limits through extensions.

ODC/Dance - "Dance Downtown: A Force at 40"

2011-03-15T12:48:00.000-07:00


Elizabeth Farotte Heenan and Corey Brady. Photo by RJ Muna

Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco, CA
March 12, 2011

The significant milestone of forty years deserves celebration and ODC is doing it up right with a three weekend, three program engagement at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts' Novellus Theater in downtown San Francisco. The opening bill brought together two world premieres ("Speaking Volumes: Architecture of Light II" and "I Look Vacantly at the Pacific...Though Regret") with 1999's "Investigating Grace".

Much dance performance centers around the notion of forms in space, and Brenda Way's "Speaking Volumes: Architecture of Light II" examined this concept very literally, with a stunning gallery of moving shapes. The piece began with a soloist and a narrative voice; the narrator providing choreographic instruction and the dancer interpreting the words through movement. This opening was so intriguing, almost like notation was being brought to life in performance. And, right from this unique beginning, Way's focus on geometrical shapes was very clear. As the piece continued, the idea of form was fully explored by soloists and groups, with lighting and set design and through choreographic alteration - differing articulations (staccato and smooth); range of dynamics; and changes in speed (augmentation and diminution). Unfortunately, about three quarters of the way through "Speaking Volumes: Architecture of Light II", the dance took a wrong turn, with an attempt at Pina Bausch-style dance-theater humor. This section came of out of nowhere and had nothing to do with the rest of the piece. It was gimmicky and just didn't fit. The work had been so choreographically sound up until that point, which made these last portions even more disappointing.

I'm certainly not against humorous dances because Kimi Okada's "I Look Vacantly at the Pacific...Though Regret" was delightfully fantastic. Her stunning characterization of differing language, customs and conventions gave a refreshing, funny and child-like interpretation of cultural misunderstanding. "Investigating Grace", also choreographed by Artistic Director Brenda Way, combined ballet, modern, jazz, gestural and pedestrian movements in a study of elegance. Every lush sequence spoke to the expansive and graceful possibilities that exist in the human body. The greatest achievement of "Investigating Grace" was that Way was able to show this polish and refinement in moments of stillness, when rolling on the ground and even in the most frenetic choreographic sequences.

The repertory choices for this fortieth anniversary celebration were a little surprising. Of the seven pieces that will be performed during the month of March, three are world premieres, two were choreographed over the last five years and the last two were from the 1990s. What about the company's earlier period? It would have been both interesting and appropriate to see a more varied selection of works, truly reflecting ODC's four-decade history. Aside from that, this evening was a testament to the accomplishments of this amazing group of artists. Here's to the next forty years!

Ballet San Jose -"Swan Lake"

2011-03-02T16:48:00.000-08:00

The San Jose Center for the Performing Arts, San Jose, CA

February 26, 2011

The story of “Swan Lake” has certainly gotten a lot of attention over the past few months. While it has played out on the big screen and in the dance discourse, some companies are offering even further analytic opportunities by featuring the classic ballet as part of their 2011 season. Ballet San Jose's version, choreographed by Artistic Director Dennis Nahat, provides a unique take on the traditional story with an expanded treatment of Baron Von Rothbart and a much-needed inventory of ballet's technical oeuvre. With his attention to detail, Nahat's “Swan Lake” could be aptly retitled, “Swan Lake: The Return of Artistic Intricacy”.

Nahat's interpretation of Von Rothbart is brilliant. With Rothbart being the evil manipulator of this story's individuals, situations and events, it makes complete sense that he should be very present throughout the entire ballet (and in many productions his appearances are fairly minimal). In the prologue, we meet Von Rothbart for the first time as he captures four maidens and transforms them to swans. Though it would have been more effective for Odette to be one of those four women, these opening moments paint a villainous portrait. As the ballet continues, Von Rothbart's purpose becomes the interruption and halting of Odette and Siegfried's emerging relationship. To that end, Nahat has created several pas de trois for Odette, Siegfried and Von Rothbart (danced by Jeremy Kovitch) to represent Rothbart's interference. These trios definitely speak of his vicious intentions, though they also embody the struggles of all three characters: Odette's struggle for freedom, Siegfried's struggle for love and Von Rothbart's struggle for domination.

Photo by Robert Shomler

San Jose Ballet's corps is very good, one of the most mature groups (not necessarily in age, but certainly in artistic rigor) that I have seen in a long time - they really work together as a team. This is not a company who has their corps de ballet stand around framing the action; they are active participants. We first encounter them as the courtiers in Act I performing some very inventive choreography. Nahat is not afraid to use demi-pointe for the women as its own position, as opposed to its more common transitional use. This allowed discoveries and opportunities for steps and sequences that so many other choreographers miss. I must admit that at times, the corps looked a little cramped in the stage space, but because of their impressive aggregate sensibilities, they made the best of it. Act II's swan chorus was a beautiful display of delicate choreography - prancey front attitudes alongside wispy pas de chats. Softer pointe shoes would have been a nice addition to the scene.

Photo by Robert Shomler

The role of Prince Siegfried was the perfect showcase for Guest Artist Carlos Acosta's fantastic technique. His variations in Act I highlighted his spectacular plié, and his ability to end a multiple pirouette up in passé relevé rather than down in a closed position; a Cecchetti adage that we seldom see nowadays. Alexsandra Meijer's portrayal of both Odette and Odile was superb. As she first met the Prince, the fear and terror were apparent in every part of her being, not just in her arms as is often the case with many Swan Queens. And, as she was pulled away by Von Rothbart at the end of the second Act, her boureés screamed of her desperation, helplessness and panic. Her Odile was enticing and alluring, though the technical requirements of this powerhouse character (specifically the fouettés) did present some challenges last Saturday night.

"Fable and Faith" - Robert Moses' Kin

2011-02-22T16:13:00.000-08:00

Novellus Theater, Yerba Buena Center for the Arts
San Francisco, CA
February 19, 2011

Collaborative dance is hard to do well. There must be a unifying concept and performative elements that work together in pursuit of the common goal - certainly not an easy undertaking. "Fable and Faith", Robert Moses' most recent project, has conquered the conceptual part of the equation but has missed the cohesiveness. This evening length production at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts brought two works ("The Cinderella Principle (2010) and the premiere of "Fable & Faith") that combined storytelling, music and dance. Moses' concept was intriguing; the dancers technique and execution of the movement stunning; Anne Galjour's textual presence compelling; and the San Francisco Boys Chorus' musical contribution beyond measure. But in order to fully realize any collaborative dance piece, these components must shift from individual parts to a collective whole. It is the choreographic material that facilitates this transformation and unfortunately, in this case, the movement didn't live up to expectation.

"The Cinderella Principle" examined the notion of family in today's society and more specifically, how we create that emotional human structure in our lives. To that end, Moses explored multiple different situations (adoption, surrogacy, IVF, pregnancy) and the spectrum of emotions (uncertainty, desperation, expectedness, belonging, joy) that occur in pursuit of family. The text, written and performed by Anne Galjour, painted a very realistic picture of this complicated entity (the family), while the movement struggled to embody this narrative foundation. There was plenty of dance in the piece, but not much of it spoke to the concept with one important choreographic exception. A recurring walking motif found the dancers moving very deliberately, lifting their foot in the back as they took each step, almost a slowed down interpretation of how a horse moves. This sequence was prominent through much of "The Cinderella Principle" and the constant propulsion was evident - moving on; moving forward; moving towards happiness.

The same observations hold true for the premiere of "Fable & Faith" - the movement was interesting, the dancing solid, the collaborators great, yet again, the connection between the story and the choreography was not there. The disconnect was even more obvious in this piece than in "The Cinderella Principle". "Fable & Faith" incorporated several children's tales into one epic adventure read by Galjour- definitely narrative. Strangely, the movement seemed almost abstract and not purposely so. It wasn't as if Moses was trying to make an artistic comment by juxtaposing abstraction against the narrative. Costumes, props, text and music (although delightfully performed by the San Francisco Boys Chorus) just aren't enough and weren't enough. In a narrative dance performance, the story has to live and breathe in the choreography; otherwise the work just doesn't add up.

"Eonnagata"

2011-02-13T12:54:00.000-08:00

Conceived and Performed by Sylvie Guillem, Robert Lepage & Russell Maliphant

Presented by Cal Performances at Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley, CA

February 10^th, 2011

Sylvie Guillem, Robert Lepage and Russell Maliphant's “Eonnagata” is a stunning physical and visual journey exploring the land of extremes. Presented by Cal Performances at Zellerbach Hall, the piece settles on the 'in between' space where opposing forces pull. Here is an examination of the undefinable and a navigation through the unknown. “Eonnagata” does not provide answers to the paradox of the ambiguous, rather, it calls for recognition, acceptance and celebration of uncertainty.

“Eonnagata's” structural foundation is a retelling of the life of eighteenth century French aristocrat Chevalier d'Éon. Appropriately, Guillem, Lepage and Maliphant chose an individual whose existence was filled with indeterminateness, with the specific manifestation being his gender. The historic account unfolded over the 1 hour, 40 minute piece and though very entertaining (sometimes dramatic, sometimes comical, sometimes tragic), it was really just fodder for Guillem, Lepage and Maliphant's artistic thesis; a chronology to underscore their exploration of personal duality.

Some particular moments deserve special mention as they really spoke to the avoidance of description and definition. One of the first scenes found Guillem, Lepage and Maliphant dressed in matching androgynous costumes, working with three tables (one for each of them). While polyphonic music played in the background, the choreography had them sliding across the surfaces and intermixing in and with each other's space. This referred to impermanence; a lack of commitment to one spatial location or state of being. Towards the end of the work, these tables reappeared, now with a mirrored top, again encapsulating the idea of individual complexity. Guillem and Maliphant stood on opposite sides of one table, imitating each other's movements while one of them was also reflected in the mirror. The sum of multiple facets is a deep, rich and intricate character.

Choreographer Russell Maliphant and ballerina Sylvie Guillem
in the United States exclusive premiere of "Eonnagata"
at Cal Performances. Photo credit: Erick Labbe

While the conceptual narrative was clever and compelling, the real success of “Eonnagata” lies in its interdisciplinary approach. Guillem, Lepage and Maliphant used numerous theatrical elements though only one entity truly defined the piece. Dance was their constant and everything else (text, lighting, video projection, masks, costuming, sets, stage combat and scene work) informed the movement. This made “Eonnagata” structurally sound - dance theater at its best.

The discussion of “Eonnagata” cannot be complete without the acknowledgment of Sylvie Guillem's transcendent performance skills. A superior technician, her developpé à la second is matchless – an incredible extension that seems to come from nowhere, yet every transitional moment is given full attention. And, I couldn't take my eyes off of her feet; even when she was walking very simply, each articulation was exquisite. But even more than that, her presence was enchanting, graceful and genuine. On Thursday night, she had to re-start her opening monologue, and as she jokingly explained her error, she won everyone's hearts.

Smuin Ballet - Winter Program

2011-02-05T14:19:00.000-08:00


Smuin Ballet dancers Benjamin Behrends, Travis Walker, and Shane Tice in "Brahms-Haydn Variations" Photo credit: David Allen

Lesher Center for the Arts, Walnut Creek, CA
February 4, 2011

Smuin Ballet's 2011 winter program could have easily been titled 'An Evening of Conceptual Dance', with Trey McIntyre's "Oh, Inverted World" sandwiched between Michael Smuin's "Brahms-Haydn Variations" and "Bluegrass/Slyde". A brilliantly orchestrated mixed repertoire night, the three works were committed to the exploration of traditional and contemporary movement and were all excellent examples of non-narrative ballet founded on concept.

The first piece, "Brahms-Haydn Variations" was maybe the closest thing to neo-classical abstraction that I have seen in a long time; Michael Smuin created beautiful intricate movement to transcendent music. Yet, it cannot be considered purely abstract because the music provided the conceptual basis for the choreography. Smuin's inventory of ballet was complete, including the use of 2nd position in plié, on pointe and in the air, which, with the exception of Balanchine, is rarely found in staged choreography. The duo of Jean Michelle Sayeg and Ben Behrends deserves special acknowledgement for the outstandingly buoyant lifts in the finale. Theirs was truly a combined effort; working together as a team.

Trey McIntyre's "Oh, Inverted World" still celebrated the ballet syllabus, but turned everything that could be expected from that tradition upside down. Although no one except McIntyre himself can really be sure of what he was trying to say with this work, it seemed that his conceptual basis was the idea of athleticism and dance. Here were the athletic possibilities; a complete study of physicality. So many choreographers today attempt to examine the depths of human movement by taking dancing out of the equation and deconstructing movement to a mere skeleton of its former self. But McIntyre shows that subtracting and taking away is not the only method with which to explore the complexity of choreography - "Oh, Inverted World" was rich unexpected dance to dynamic unexpected music.

Smuin's "Bluegrass/Slyde" rounded out the evening with a fun conceptual foundation of line dancing, jazz, social dance, tap and musical theater. The set was a collection of scaffolding and three rotating poles that were abundantly utilized throughout the eight-section dance. I must confess that the inclusion of these poles made the piece look a little gimmicky. There were moments where the poles assisted in creating some interesting images (when the men jumped high onto them and spun effortlessly in a standing parallel position) but for the most part, these few instances were not enough to make the set worth it. The tap section was inventive, though the paddle, roll, shuffle sequence not in sync, but again the use of the poles for extra percussion was unnecessary. The final romantic pas de deux between Erin Yarbrough-Stewart and Travis Walker reinforced that Smuin's choreography is good enough to stand on its own.

Kelly Kemp & Company / Number 9

2011-02-04T12:14:00.000-08:00

"7 ways to hide your self from the rest of the world"
ODC Theater, San Francisco, CA
January 30, 2011

ODC is filling San Francisco's Mission District with decadent dance performance in this, the inaugural season of their new theater and campus space. Most recently, Kelly Kemp & Company / Number 9 graced the stage with "7 ways to hide your self from the rest of the world". Well-developed structural modern choreography paired with an investigative narrative generated probing questions about how personal history informs current action.

One dancer began the piece by reciting a list of situations that happen in life; every sentence starting with the word 'when'. Existing on different parts of the seriousness spectrum (i.e. 'when they got divorced' versus 'when I lost my keys'), some of the circumstances clearly occurred long ago while others may have transpired just last week. The intoxicating part of the piece was not the introduction of these 'when' statements but instead the treatment of the 'then'. Rather than responding with 'then I' or 'then this happened', the 'then' was expressed choreographically. In the forty minutes that followed this first verbal segment, Kemp demonstrated that the reaction to specific instances can be so different: ambiguous, defined, slow, contentious or peaceful.

A long passage from the middle of "7 ways to hide your self from the rest of the world" really captured Kemp's narrative purpose. A male soloist began onstage with three women and performed very freeing choreography, almost as if he was metaphorically purging these 'when' events from his consciousness and being. Eventually the entire cast joined him, dancing in circular, expansive and uninhibited patterns. Not everyone was moving at all times, in fact, some of the cast was at rest while others became swept up in their physicality. Regardless, the whole scene was one of hopeful and successful cleansing; almost an exorcism of persistent demons. However, Kemp did show that moving on is not always possible for everyone. The recapitulation of the 'when' stories at the end of the work symbolized that sometimes what has happened in our lives still rages on in the head, heart and the soul no matter how hard we try or have tried to work past it.

Overall, the company was very impressive in their ability to translate the content through text and dance, though a couple of the company members were not as technically sound as the others. I agree that not everyone in a given group needs to be the same; cookie cutter dance companies are a little predictable and boring to watch. But, a general base level of technique is a good idea.

"Giselle" - San Francisco Ballet

2011-02-03T12:03:00.000-08:00

War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco, CA
January 30, 2011

More than any other classical story ballet, the success of "Giselle" rests on the shoulders of the ballerina cast as the tragic heroine. Last Sunday afternoon brought us Sarah Van Patten in the title role and because she was Giselle, San Francisco Ballet's "Giselle" was fantastic.

Van Patten's first variation was stunning - her balletés delightfully springy; her long arabesque light and airy yet full and gooey at the same time. Because of her attention to detail and mastery of technique, we were spared the thud of pointe shoes hitting the stage at the completion of each step; no unplanned audio distracted from Tomasson's choreography. Some of her subsequent petit allegro sections needed more plié and heels that closed completely to the floor because when her heels are released, Van Patten has super relevé power. It is those split seconds of repose that are exciting - when the weight is distributed on the whole foot in between each quick, intricate movement. Van Patten plays the village maiden with a perfect level of navieté and anticipation. But, I must admit, I was skeptical whether she would be able to pull off the 'mad scene'. I was wrong. She gave levels to that scene that I had never witnessed before: a delusional remembrance of innocence, a quiet descent toward psychosis, a maniacal laugh, panic and paranoia.

Tomasson's movement passages for Act II revealed two sides of this complex character. When Giselle was dancing amongst the Wilis without Albrecht, there was a very academic interpretation of the movement, almost lacking any feeling. This is a complement not a criticism - there was a perfection of physicality, yet an emptiness of expression. As Albrecht became part of the action, Van Patten's upper body immediately opened up with communicative freedom. And the lifting of her leg in relevé long as she first sees him was the perfect representation of expansive searching.

Of course, there were other notable moments in San Francisco Ballet's "Giselle". Daniel Baker was probably the best Hilarion I have ever seen, and Frances Chung was appropriately stoic and calculating as Myrtha. The corps women had a wonderful performance last Sunday; they have begun to gel as a group, a definite improvement over last month's "Nutcracker". Tiit Helimets, as Albrecht, was the superior technician of the group, though his acting was not as convincing as it could have been.

Company C Contemporary Ballet - Winter Program 2011

2011-02-01T13:16:00.000-08:00

Castro Valley Center for the Arts

January 29, 2011

Today's choreography makes a lot more sense when it is paired with some historical understanding of form and content in American dance. And, looking backward definitely sheds some light on what we are now seeing in the twenty-first century. The modern dance giants (Graham, Humphrey, Weidman, etc.) were committed to their own defined, specific movement syllabus and created dances using that vocabulary. Though they had this set physical language, their pieces seemed to primarily revolve around the narrative, so much so that the structure (the choreography) became subservient to the story; more of a vehicle for the expression of their epic, high-level narrative. The second generation of modern dance choreographers (Sokolow, Maslow, Dudley, Tamiris, to name a few examples) saw the value of their predecessors work, yet their choreography sought a more equal treatment of form and content; a better merging of these two elements in performance so that the steps remained significant in their own right and could support more relatable stories without becoming lost within them. Then came the 1960s, and the post-modernists turned everything inside out, abandoning the narrative altogether and adopting the notion that dance should be valued for what it is – pure human movement, not saying anything or meaning anything, just existing. They also re-defined the assumptions of what type of movement could be dance, who could do it and where it could be viewed. They stripped away all the peripheral elements (especially the narrative thematic) and de-constructed dance to its physical essence. At the same time in the land of ballet, Balanchine was all over the form/content spectrum: linear story ballets, abstract expressions of music and instances of deconstructed narrative where an idea, concept or image served as the jumping off point for his movement vision.

One paragraph does not even scratch the surface of choreography's longstanding relationship with both story and structure, but it does provide some helpful insights that inform where we are now. And, every once in a while a dance program comes along that really speaks of this historical chronology. Company C Contemporary Ballet's Winter Program 2011 was just that – a stunning, multi-faceted visual journey through form and content, told through four pieces choreographed in the past fifteen years.

We begin in the land of the deconstructed narrative, where no linear story exists, and concepts, notions or ideas take center stage. Daniel Ezralow's “Pulse” had the dancers sliding in and out of the performance space in a wide second position, not just as a recurring motif, but overwhelmingly present throughout the entire work. Here Ezralow was demonstrating impermanence and lack of commitment – how today we leave a situation as quickly as we enter into it, and the difficulty we face in fully giving of ourselves; instead choosing to stay very much on the surface.

James Sewell's “Appalachia Waltz” was an ode to several different styles, including Graham, Balanchine, Mark Morris, Robert Joffrey and Gerald Arpino. This amalgamation really makes sense because the Appalachian region itself was and is a rich cultural compound. The costumes brought visions of Graham with the leotard-style, long-sleeved, full-length dresses; the poses evoked Balanchine's three muses (“Apollo”); the canon sequences brought Morris into the mixture; and the floorwork spoke of Arpino and Joffrey.

“Indoor Fireworks”, by Charles Anderson and Benjamin G. Bowman, opened with a 1960s scene; the entire cast channeling youth, joy, exuberance and society, and the piece definitely channeling Twyla Tharp's “Deuce Coupe” (although I would argue that “Indoor Fireworks” is maybe better than “Deuce Coupe”). Its purpose was not to fuse ballet and modern dance vocabulary together under the common force of youthful vitality; rather, it showed the passion, desperation and explosiveness (hence the title) of this generation. Of the nine sections, “Poisoned Rose” and “Baby Plays Around” particularly stood out. The former, a duet between Edilsa Armendariz and Robert Dekkers was a sexy, smooth stream of consciousness from beginning to end; seamless transitions with no stops or pauses. And Dekkers solo - “Baby Plays Around” - reminded us that a simplistic position can be so powerful. At several points, he stood on a high relevé in fourth - solid yet searching at the same time. “Blame it on Cain”, a trio for Kevin Hockenberry, David Van Ligon and Jeffrey Ware was the only segment that needed a bit more rehearsal. Their footwork was not well-synchronized and the spacing was off the entire time. They just didn't seem to be working together as one unit.

Robert Dekkers of Company C Contemporary Ballet in the premiere of Charles Anderson and Benjamin Bowman's "Indoor Fireworks". Photo by David DeSilva

I have purposely left “Ominous Rumblings of Discontent” (choreography by Maurice Causey) out of the discussion, because the piece itself was confused. Not confusing, but confused. There was too much happening (both formally and narratively) to possibly converge into a cohesive piece of this short length. I think one of two things would be helpful for this work and am not really sure which would be the better option. Either some serious editing needs to happen so that the focus is stronger and clearer, or the piece should be expanded into a full-length work, so that all the information and material can be spread out and presented more convincingly.

Catherine Galasso at Meridian Gallery

2011-01-31T22:03:00.000-08:00

Photo credit: Michelle Lynch

"Memorandum of Understanding: Your Butt is Covered"

Choreography by Catherine Galasso

Meridian Gallery, San Francisco, CA

January 28, 2011

Downtown San Francisco's Meridian Gallery was transformed this past weekend with Catherine Galasso's intriguing choreographic comment on perception and reality, "Memorandum of Understanding: Your Butt is Covered". The Meridian Dance Program seeks to bring visual art and dance theater together in a way that highlights their dependence and interdependence while co-existing in the same space. And, what an outstanding choice to add Galasso's narratively-complex work to their diverse repertoire.

"Memorandum of Understanding: Your Butt is Covered" was a mobile piece that unfolded in multiple facets within the gallery. Galasso's treatment of perception and reality was clear from the very beginning as the dancers emerged from within the audience. While this might suggest a blurring of the line between the audience and the performer, instead, the issue was more focused on the relationship between the dancer and the viewer. As the cast moved through the crowd, they made direct eye contact, touched people's arms and one guy looked like he might actually take a sip of my friend Anne's wine. It was so telling and revealing that closeness still seems incredibly uncomfortable and invasive. Even in the face of avant-garde performance and post-post-modern dance, there is still an unwritten rule and inherent desire for distance between the audience and performer. Galasso was not really offering answers to this dilemma, but rather demonstrating our perception of the performer's role against the reality of modern day choreography.

The first movement passage was filled with line-dance-like steps; easy footwork all building on the very basic foundation of 'step touch'. Here again, I found my pre-conceptions being confronted. I often attend these performance art evenings expecting the completely obscure and obtuse; I come prepared for the weird and the random. Although the final scene of the evening was definitely bizarre, I was heartened that Galasso also included long sequences that spoke of simplicity, accessibility, clarity and egalitarianism. The reality of her work did not pander to assumptions.

Next to the staircase where one of the men performed a lip synced routine to 1950s-style music; he so looked the part of the iconic dreamboat. Though again, the image of perfection was challenged as the lighting design revealed an underlying creepiness and morbidity.

Once we were ushered up to the second level of Meridian, the audience was faced with a choice. The dance was divided between two rooms, and it was only possible to be in one of them for the duration of this middle segment. As a viewer, you were of course seeing what was in front of you, but keenly aware that you were missing something elsewhere. The whole story was not available to you; there were only portions of visibility - a brilliant comment on what we want from narrative dance as opposed to what we get from it.

I must admit that the 3rd floor section was not my personal favorite; I couldn't grasp was what was happening and still three days later, am unsure of what its purpose was. Perhaps it was just a comment on absurdity with the series of scenes and vignettes depicting a dysfunctional home environment. But the strangeness was not the problem; the lack of movement was my issue. Modern dance, post-modern dance, dance theater, dance installation art, whatever you call it, choreography should be the foundation and in this final movement of "Memorandum of Understanding: Your Butt is Covered", the dance was very much missing.

Rennie Harris Puremovement

2011-01-25T13:29:00.000-08:00

Rennie Harris Puremovement, "Students of the Asphalt Jungle" Photo credit: Brian Mengini

Presented by Stanford Lively Arts
Stanford Memorial Auditorium, Palo Alto, CA
January 22, 2010

Anyone who wants to understand the difference between a hip hop dance team and a hip hop dance company should see Philadelphia-based Rennie Harris Puremovement, presented this past weekend by Stanford Lively Arts as part of their 2010-2011 season. Dance teams are great - performance with attention to synchronicity, exciting acrobatic tricks, superb technique and a commitment to perfection. Yet in the face of all this 'amazing-ness', there is an overwhelming sense that something is missing. Enter Rennie Harris Puremovement, which takes hip hop from the somewhat sanitized team experience to an artistically rigorous company experience. Here is a group whose mission is to do more - technically superior hip hop with the undercurrent of relevant issues: the individual versus the collective; diversity of movement; and the importance of representational narratives in a traditionally presentational format.

Almost all dance companies struggle with the puzzle of the individual and the collective, agonizing over how to reconcile the importance of both without sacrificing either. Rennie Harris has successfully navigated this issue by realizing and concluding that these two elements (the individual and the collective) need not be contentious nor exclusive. In fact, if both are fostered and encouraged, the result is actually more cohesive and holistic. Harris has worked diligently with his dancers to create synchronized movement alongside a sense of individual 'isms', particularly apparent in the upper body, arms and hands. This allowed Harris' hip hop choreography to transcend the emptiness that we sometimes see with dance teams. This was definitely a cohesive dance group who were expressing the choreography as a whole, yet within that, the individual pieces were clear, giving flavor and uniqueness to the dance.

Puremovement also provided a glimpse into several additional dance styles, incorporating them into the hip hop physicality rather than fusing them together. Hip hop remained the predominant force, yet the injection of different genres revealed that all dance is linked together through the common denominator of movement. There were multiple instances of good old-fashioned lyrical jazz dance, with parallel piqué turns and tendus in 2nd position that sensuously dragged across the floor ("Loving Heaven") as well as some rhythm tap sequences: jump, dig, jump, step; and toe beat, heel beat. Though I didn't actually see any traditional ballet, there was one moment in the first Act where a trio of women dancing center stage drew me to a classical comparison. As they moved with true abandon, I imagined that this is what the cygnets in "Swan Lake" are meant to express: allure, desperation and power. The program noted that Harris' company performs a full-length evening work, "Rome & Jewels" that is informed by "Romeo & Juliet" and "West Side Story". Act II's "P-Funk" was without doubt, an ode to Jerome Robbins, the choreographer of "West Side Story". It was both novel and different, but still had some classic Robbinsesque moves: the side kicks with flexed feet, and the mambo base step.

Unfortunately, Stanford Memorial Auditorium was not the ideal venue for this particular group. The building itself is architecturally interesting, though several design elements made it difficult to see the dancer's feet, and this visual line is imperative for dance. The slight pitch of the seats combined with the height of the stage masked the intricate footwork, and it was a shame that much of Harris' creative choreography was hidden from view.

"Gush"

2011-01-17T11:46:00.000-08:00

Curated by Joe Goode
Featuring Ledoh, AXIS Dance Company and Joe Goode Performance Group
Brava Theater, San Francisco, CA
January 14, 2011

Brava Theater invites patrons to an eclectic modern dance experience with "Gush", their current three-week long performance series curated by choreographer Joe Goode. The festival, set in the heart of San Francisco's Mission District, brings together Goode's own company, Joe Goode Performance Group, with Ledoh and Axis Dance Company. Goode's opening remarks revealed that all of the "Gush" groups share a common denominator, each dealing with frank emotion but in very unique and telling ways. Each weekend features a new line-up of artists and works, with the most recent program being "29 Effeminate Gestures" (Joe Goode Performance Group) and "ColorMeAmerica" (Ledoh).

Even though Goode's "29 Effeminate Gestures" is a historic dance theater masterpiece, it was brand new to me. And now I can say that it is one of the most affecting pieces I have ever seen. Danced by Melecio Estrella, "29 Effeminate Gestures" began with a pseudo-rap/vocalization of the phrase, "he's a good guy" as Estrella emerged from the audience. At first, it seemed that the words were referring to someone else, but as the tempo accelerated and the words became more desperate, it was clear that he was talking about himself and trying to convince himself of his worth. Once on the stage, Estrella introduced the set of effeminate gestures, traveling from upstage left to downstage right, with no transition between each pose. At this point in the work, the positions were being presented in isolation, as if the primary and only characteristic of this man. Then the mood changed drastically, and Estrella embarked on a fluid stream of movement where the gestures become part of a larger physical vocabulary. They were still there; still present; and still real, though now expressed as an integrated part of the whole being. Goode used this beautiful section to unpack these gestures, revealing what they mean from an internal and personal perspective as opposed to what they say outwardly. Here, there was celebration combined with realization and ownership, which brought a plethora of emotional elements, including fear, honesty and relief.

Salt Farm Productions' "ColorMeAmerica" sought to examine many significant issues, with the program notes citing security, survival, power, and freedom, among others. Ledoh (Salt Farm's Artistic Director) explored this vast narrative goal through a contemporary take on Butoh performance, and the addition of multi-media. The opening video images were a range of different animals, birds and insects and dancer Iu-Hui Chua truly embodied each of those beings, taking on the clawed hands of the birds, the excited gaze of a puppy and the constant motion of a bee. These first movement interpretations were real, accurate and mesmerizing, but unfortunately the rest of the piece did not live up to this early promise. The grotesqueness of Butoh, with its angular, staccato, accented physicality and overly dramatic facial expressions seems like a good method to effectively fulfill and transmit the narrative. But strangely, the abrupt and deformed movement style didn't actually depict violence, fear or any other of the conceptual elements. The choreography was trying to reflect those themes yet was unable to move beyond imitation to the true communication of content. Even though I didn't feel the connection between what the dancers were doing and what they were trying to say, I do see the value of "ColorMeAmerica". It might not have been for me, but based on the audience reaction, there were definitely people there to whom the work spoke deeply.

The Joffrey Ballet - "The Nutcracker"

2011-01-03T12:44:00.000-08:00

Auditorium Theatre of Roosevelt University, Chicago, IL

December 23, 2010

Yumelia Garcia, Photo credit: Herbert Migdoll

The Joffrey Ballet's “Nutcracker” was my third and final foray into the story of Clara and her Prince, at least until next December rolls around. And, like any “Nutcracker”, there are things to love about the Joffrey Ballet's production and things that could definitely be improved upon.

As the party scene unfolded, this combination of strength and weakness was very evident. The choreography for the adult party guests was much more interesting and involved than most “Nutcrackers”, demonstrating and incorporating the classical ballet footwork canon: ballonés, balletés, cabrioles, and more. This version proves that the adult party guests can perform intricate footwork while still looking regal and sophisticated. Joffrey's choreography for the mechanical dolls, specifically the attention to their arms, was also much more realistic than usually seen. His vision of these life-size toys (and the dancers' detailed interpretation of his choreography) reminds us that looks are deceiving – what appears real may in fact just be a mirage. Unfortunately, the Joffrey Ballet's decision to have Clara and Fritz played by adult company members (who then pretend to be children) doesn't work very well. I do concur that having adults dance these roles means that the solos, duets, variations and pas de deux can all be of a high technical level. But, no matter what, it always makes the party scene look silly and a little strange to have adults pretending to be children amidst fifteen actual children.

My favorite moment of every “Nutcracker” is Act I, Scene III, 'The Land of Snow', and because I love it so much, I tend to be fairly critical of this particular dance. The Joffrey Ballet's version (originally contributed by Gerald Arpino) was absolutely breathtaking. Additional characters (the snow winds, snow tree angels and especially the snow prince, danced by Aaron Rogers) were both magical and transformative. The absolute highlight of the scene was the snow prince's short solos - Rogers' interspersed his already incredible pirouettes a la second with equally stunning double attitude derrière turns.

Onto Act II, the 'Kingdom of Sweets', and the introduction of the Sugar Plum Fairy. Her role in this “Nutcracker” was fairly traditional as she reigned over the fantasy land and facilitated Clara's short visit. Yumelia Garcia was an incredibly proficient Sugar Plum Fairy, with stunning technical promise – every balance was solid and seemed to last an eternity. Having said that, some of her movements were a little empty. Her penchée split is phenomenal but nothing new; almost every female dancer now has that capability. What makes the position interesting is the transition into it and this is where Garcia was lacking. She sprung right to 180 degrees without letting the audience see the in between spaces. These fleeting moments are where the true artistry lives and they are what gets an audience excited. The Chinese Tea duet, danced by April Daly and Aaron Rogers was another variation that was good but could have been great had there been closer attention to technique. The dance ended with a set of fantastic single pirouettes from 5^th position, and though they were only single turns, a series of these with 5^ths in between each, is no small feat. The problem was that Daly never really closed in 5^th at the performance I saw; her heels actually never touched the ground at all between these turns. It may seem like a picky detail, but that short instant of repose (both feet on the floor in 5^th position) is what makes the sequence special.

One final contribution that the Joffrey makes to the “Nutcracker” genre is their take on the Waltz of the Flowers. It wasn't so much Arpino's choreography that set this Waltz apart from others (though it was beautiful), it was the organization of the variation. Instead of having one or two primary dancers lead a larger corps through this famous music, eight individuals were cast as different flowers. Here was a true pas de huit, where each dancer had equal importance; an experience of polyphonic movement as all the dancers were able to be independent and interdependent at the same time. They could take focus when it was their turn and blend with others when needed. The dancing was lovely, but it was the structural formation of the Waltz where the genius was apparent.

American Conservatory Theater - "A Christmas Carol"

2011-01-03T10:58:00.000-08:00

Photo by Kevin Berne

American Conservatory Theater, San Francisco, CA

Directed by Domenique Lozano

Based on the original direction by Carey Perloff

Choreography by Val Caniparoli

December 18, 2010

American Conservatory Theater's annual production of “A Christmas Carol” has something for everyone: fascinating dramatic elements for the theater critics; unique vocal selections for the musicians; cool stage effects for the techies and for the dance lovers, clever movement sequences that add significant vitality to this famous holiday story.

I wouldn't call this particular adaptation of Charles Dickens' tale a musical, but the two hour production does have a good helping of music and dance. For me, the mark of good musical theater is when the scenes and dances truly meld together. The movement should organically emerge from the action so that the trajectory of the scene continues to move forward - awkward transitions make dance look like a peripheral element that doesn't belong. Choreographed and contributed by Val Caniparoli, the dances in “A Christmas Carol” were perfectly incorporated into the staging.

'Christmas past' journeys through the life of a young Scrooge, with one of the visions recalling Christmas Eve at the Fezziwig Warehouse, a textile plant. In true holiday fashion, his employers, Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig, are throwing a festive soiree for their staff with food, drinks and of course, dancing. Caniparoli smartly delivers a joyful, circular partner dance to embody this social event, well-suited to both the tone and the revelers. His folk dance looked to be a regular part of the character's cultural and social make-up (as if they had learned the dance as children), opting for simple footwork with unexpected additions - quick ball-changes with coordinating head tilts.

The opening of Act II provided a similar moment of cohesive whimsy with the produce sellers scene. The series of inventive dance duets made this vignette fun and playful as the Spanish onions, Turkish figs and French plums were transformed from 'food' into personalities.

Most of the actors in “A Christmas Carol” were not trained dancers and so it was imperative that the choreography not be overly complicated. To that end, Caniparoli worked with an economy of movement, giving the performers simple, accessible yet dynamic sequences. This allowed them to remain in character while successfully and confidently performing the set dances. Because Caniparoli possesses a talent to match movement and mood all while keeping the technical capabilities of his cast in mind, it would have been nice if there had been a little more dance present in the play. Fred's party in Act II would have been another wonderful opportunity to highlight Caniparoli's choreography.

"Nutcracker at Zeum" - Mark Foehringer Dance Project | SF

2010-12-24T08:31:00.000-08:00

San Francisco Children's Museum, San Francisco, CA

December 18, 2010

Photo credit: Rob Kunkle

Mark Foehringer's “Nutcracker”, presented at the Children's Museum in San Francisco, is an absolute delight. Foehringer has taken the two-hour holiday extravaganza and compressed it into four scenes: Drosselmeyer's Toyshop, Clara's family Christmas party, Candy Land and a return to the Toyshop. This shorter “Nutcracker” is the perfect introduction for young children – they can experience classical and contemporary ballet, an engaging, linear story, and live musical accompaniment in under an hour.

One noteworthy nuance is Foehringer's in-depth treatment of Drosselmeyer. Typically, this magical, mystical character makes his first appearance during a brief prologue or during the party scene (depending on the production). Here, we see Drosselmeyer in his toyshop, actually creating the life-size dolls and other Christmas surprises. Danced by compelling performer Brian Fisher, this unique first scene is integral in setting up Drosselmeyer to be the director of the events that follow.

Foehringer also makes a special effort to demonstrate how the character's stories are intertwined. When Drosselmeyer arrives at the Christmas Eve party, he dances a pas de trois with Clara (Taylor Ullery) and the Nephew (Chad Dawson), who later becomes the Nutcracker Prince - a very active personification of the narrative (Clara loves the Nutcracker Prince, whom Drosselmeyer has created and given to her). When Clara journeys to 'Candy Land', she is greeted by the Sugar Plum Fairy filling the ambassador role: welcoming Clara and orchestrating the citizens of 'Candy Land'. In many versions of “Nutcracker”, Clara and the Prince are not participants, but rather passive observers; they simply sit and watch the different divertissements. Here, 'Candy Land's' guests were incorporated into all the dances. Drosselmeyer partnered the Spanish Chocolate, and everyone was involved in Chinese Tea. As the Sugar Plum Fairy (Lizanne Roman) began her variation, Clara stood behind her, mimicking and imitating her choreography. Then, the Sugar Plum Fairy actually began to demonstrate and pass down her movements to Clara. Foehringer transformed this famous solo into a spatial pas de deux for Clara and the SPF, a perfect metaphor for the Queen and her apprentice. It was also very fitting that her's (the Sugar Plum Fairy) is the last face that Clara sees as 'Candy Land' disappears.

You must add Mark Foehringer Dance Project | SF's “Nutcracker at Zeum” to your December to-do list. His is a charming jaunt through the traditional holiday tale of Clara and her Nutcracker, particularly appropriate for the newest generation of theatergoers and balletomanes. Bravo to Foehringer and his company for their significant accomplishment!

San Francisco Ballet - "Nutcracker"

2010-12-24T08:02:00.000-08:00

War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco, CA

December 15, 2010

Like so many other Bay Area residents, San Francisco Ballet's “Nutcracker” is a favorite holiday tradition of mine - one that I missed greatly when I was living on the East Coast. So, walking through the familiar doors of the War Memorial Opera House to see Helgi Tomasson's magnificent production was particularly special this year. It was like coming home.

Lorena Feijoo in Tomasson's "Nutcracker" - Photo credit: Erik Tomasson

If you believe “Nutcracker” is just more December fluff, you just haven't seen a good (or in San Francisco Ballet's case, a great) version yet. Tomasson's interpretation of Clara Stahlbaum's story not only captures the fun, fantasy and festivity of childhood but also communicates the more complex narrative elements, specifically that of guidance. At every point in Clara's journey, there are stabilizing forces for her to rely upon: at the party, it is her parents; during the battle, the Nutcracker Prince becomes her protector; in the forest, the Snow King and Queen steer her in the right direction and upon arriving in the 'Land of Sweets', she meets yet another role model, the Sugar Plum Fairy. Although each of these characters is very different, their interactions with Clara speak to a common denominator. Like any child, she needs those in her life to be helpful, trustworthy and dependable, and they all fulfill that requirement.

In this particular version (which premiered in 2004), Tomasson made some bold and somewhat risky choices for the Sugar Plum Fairy. In his ballet, she still presides over the 'Land of Sweets' with a combination of strength and softness; regal but not at all overbearing. She facilitates the different character dances and welcomes Clara to bear witness to the wonder and excitement. With that persona, it makes perfect sense for her to lead the Waltz of the Flowers. This is not the case in every “Nutcracker”. Often, a few of the flowers or even a completely different character are designated the soloist(s), but here, Tomasson opted (very appropriately) for the lead dancer in this variation to be the Sugar Plum Fairy. At the end of Act II, the Sugar Plum Fairy's role is also very different than most “Nutcrackers”. The variation and grand pas de deux typically danced by the SPF is instead given to grown-up Clara. But, the Sugar Plum Fairy still maintains her facilitating role in these final events. It is she who introduces the transformed Clara to her Cavalier Prince and subsequent invites them to command the stage.

Though I absolutely love SFB's “Nutcracker”, it is impossible to ignore the growing pains that are happening in the women's corps de ballet. The senior corps members are the saving grace; veteran dancers who know that the snow scene and the waltz of the flowers are not the moments to pull focus. They understand that these two dances require team cohesiveness, synchronicity and exact timing. Some of the newer dancers haven't completely grasped what it means to be in the corps and how important the corps is. Several of them were acting like soloists during these group dances inserting overly dramatic hand gestures along with piqué arabesques and developpés that were way too high compared to everyone else (incidentally making them late for the next steps). Show off your technical capabilities in class, rehearsal and auditions, not in these two scenes. And, most important, learn from the senior corps members – they are an invaluable resource.

ODC - "The Velveteen Rabbit"

2010-12-08T14:41:00.000-08:00


Photo by Steve DiBartolomeo

Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco, CA
December 3, 2010

"The Nutcracker" is an institution in the Bay Area. With so many fantastic local versions to choose from, any "Nutcracker" fan can attend Christmas Eve at The Stahlbaum's several times during the holidays. But there is much more to December dance than the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Mouse King. If "Nutcracker" isn't your cup of tea, there are other San Francisco festive dance offerings to take it, including ODC's long-running presentation of "The Velveteen Rabbit", currently playing at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts. Charming and delightful, "The Velveteen Rabbit" is a testament to how the fusion of dance genres can provide narrative clarity. The traditional and contemporary movement vocabulary employed by choreographer KT Nelson achieves unprecedented results, making "The Velveteen Rabbit" a holiday must-see.

Ballet and modern peacefully co-exist in this enchanting dance version of Margery Williams' story. The family Christmas celebration explodes with intricate choreographic matching - double attitude piqué turns flowing into sprightly sautés. Flexed feet and parallel developpés coupled with assemblés and grand jetés, and like experiencing any good food and wine pairing, the combination seemed logical, obvious and essential.

I did have mixed feelings about the nursery's toybox scene. The choreography for the 'skin horse' was perfectly matched to its older persona: steady, staid, and level. And, the spatial pas de deux between the rabbit and the horse was brilliant. The rabbit's movements were a less mature version of the horse's choreography, illustrating the different age of the two toys. At one point, the rabbit's foot moved to a back tendu, while the horse's leg lifted off the ground in attitude derrière. This was a glimpse into the rabbit's journey from newness to being known. Unfortunately, the choreography for the other toys was lacking. These fancy figures were supposed to illustrate their feeling of superiority with new-fangled mechanical capabilities and flashy costumes. The dancers were definitely acting out that role, but their step variations did not really embody a sense of prestige or entitlement. Perhaps if the choreography had tended more towards bravado and grandiose-ness, the disposition of the different toys would have been better communicated.

Like many holiday dance productions, the children from the ODC school play an important part in "The Velveteen Rabbit". These kids were incredible: they were well-rehearsed, had lovely technique and confident stage presence. I would even go so far as to say that their synchronization was better than I've seen in several "Nutcracker" party scenes. The Nana character was also much more compelling and captivating than her "Nutcracker" counterpart, Mother Ginger. Because Nelson uses two dancers to create Nana, her feet actually do choreography - turns, jumps, walks, runs. This transformed Nana from a glorified set piece into a dynamic dance personality.

Black Swan

2010-12-06T10:29:00.000-08:00

Photo credit: Niko Tavernise

Director - Darren Aronofsky
Writers - Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz & John McLaughlin
Choreographer - Benjamin Millepied

Most mainstream dance films are part of the romantic dramedy genre, but "Black Swan" is anything but typical. This haunting dance movie chronicles the cycle of obsession through three phases: normalization, realization and confrontation. We meet Nina (beautifully interpreted by Natalie Portman), a stunning, talented yet troubled ballerina - she is the new star; an up and comer, slated to dance the coveted role of Odette/Odile. Moving up the ranks from soloist to principal is an exercise in duality itself; excitement and accomplishment coupled with anxiety and nervousness. Most dancers find a way to navigate this new territory, but for Nina, a fragile individual already teetering on the brink of sanity, the consequences of her promotion are disastrously fatal. Though set in the world of ballet, "Black Swan" really focuses on the psychology of delusion.

One of the first things you notice about Nina is how her compulsive ritualistic behaviors have normalized in her life, almost to the point that the bizarreness has anesthetized into regularity. Despite being rooted in self-hatred and her desperate need for perfection, these patterns have de-emphasized and re-interpreted into normalcy and comfort for her. When these demons are habitualized, they become hard to identify and define and thus, impossible to escape. One particular manifestation for Nina is in the picking and pulling of her skin. Again, the underlying issue here is perfection (or the appearance of perfection), so when faced with a blemish, cut or scratch, Nina is unable to let it heal on its own. Every mark on her body was far more than just a physical abnormality. For her, it spoke of a flawed existence and thus, she sadistically and methodically peeled it all away. But this process of normalization can only last so long. The facade will eventually crumble when you are forced to admit, confront and feel that which you have buried. Nina's casting as the fractured Swan Queen was the catalyst that released her own fractured personality. She was not taking the role into her life, the role was embodying what was already happening in her mind. Living it out inwardly and now outwardly (in the studio and on the stage) ultimately took her over the edge and brought the shattered pieces of her subconscious to the surface in a way that she had been able to control in the past. She had moved away from normalization and onto the processes of realization and confrontation. For some, this emotional journey provides healing and understanding, but for Nina, the pain could not be conquered.

"Black Swan" is another movie that purposely utilizes shaky camera work. I was actually a little surprised that there wasn't a note on the theater door warning that people with motion sickness might experience some dizziness throughout the film. No matter how jarring it felt in the audience, what an appropriate choice for Portman's Nina. An unsteady frame for a neurotic psyche.

"Deviations", written and directed by Joe Goode

2010-11-27T15:43:00.000-08:00

University of California, Berkeley

Presented by The Department of Theater, Dance and Performance Studies

Durham Studio Theater

November 21, 2010

I am both suspect and perhaps overly critical of interdisciplinary performance. But even a skeptic and cynic like me knows that every once in a while, this genre gets it right - well-researched pieces with formal and narrative cohesiveness, favoring collaboration and cooperation above randomness and mismatching. When the necessary time and energy is spent on the integration of elements, interdisciplinary work can be significant and telling. It is not enough to just throw things together (and so many of today's choreographers do that), relativity must be the primarily goal in order to achieve any level of artistic depth.

Joe Goode's recent work, “Deviations”, presented by the Department of Theater, Dance and Performance Studies at UC Berkeley, demonstrates the complexity of concept through text, scenework, and movement - taking it from a static one-dimensional notion and placing it on an active spectrum, where it can range from problematic to hopeful. To me, the word 'deviation' has a negative connotation; it implies that something has gone awry. And, desired outcomes are permanently, and perhaps forever, compromised. However, there can be an upside to deviation as well. This one-act theatrical musing introduces seven characters, all on their own individual journeys of deviation, which for some provides positive changes in their lives, while for others leads to lack of focus, sorrow and heartache.

The seven personalities are framed by Annabelle, a storyteller and writer who narrates the action to some degree. In doing so, “Deviations” raises issues of real time - are these actual events or the results of Annabelle's imagination? In this theatrical equation, not only is the idea of deviation appropriately fuzzy, but reality also becomes an undefined integer. In ninety minutes, we learn that these characters (real or imaginary), Annabelle included, are experiencing upsides and downsides from their personal deviations – deviating from their chosen course of action; deviating from their relationships; deviating from assumptions; deviating from their roles.

Accompanying movement unfolded alongside the text and dialogue, satirically, comically and organically. Goode designed the choreography to emphasize and highlight what was happening in the acting scenes, as opposed to the movement propelling the story forward on its own. This may have been one of the reasons why the piece made so much sense. The movement was truly embedded and entrenched in the dramatic action: reaching limbs supplemented scenes where the characters were searching; trying to capture and find something or someone. One pas de deux mirrored a tumultuous, though naturalistic relationship - moments of tenderness and the desire for companionship juxtaposed against wanting to escape and the need for solitude. Still other dance segments cleverly spoke to some of the more farcical subject matter, including an incantation that explained metaphysics and a game show presentation of the perfect man. This was interdisciplinary practice at its best.


Photo by Austin Forbord

I will say that “Deviations” was a little light on the movement – the work was more play and less dance theater than I have come to expect from Joe Goode. And, because the movement was so brilliantly integrated and an imperative addition to the action, it would have been great to see a little more of it.

Works in the Works 2010

2010-11-23T13:06:00.000-08:00


Linda Bair Dance Company, Photo by Matthias Falk

Presented by Choreographers' Performance Alliance and 8th Street Studio, Berkeley, CA
November 20, 2010

In the past two years, I have really made an extra effort to see works-in-progress. Whether in a rehearsal setting, in a previewed excerpt or at an informal showing, I have come to realize that these opportunities are invaluable. Critics are with choreography for such a short duration - even if you see the same piece multiple times, the cast, staging or venue are likely to be different, thus, making the piece different too. Being present for the process of dancemaking is such a different experience; an intimate gift that provides unique insight that the finished product alone may not.

The "Works in the Works 2010" program offered the chance to see five dances at various stages of growth: "H₁" (Abigail McNally/A Mused Collective), "My Hands/Tus Brazos" (Linda Bair Dance Company), "Banksy's Children" (MeND Dance Theater Company), "What Is It About Memory?" (Jetta Martin), and an untitled work performed by the San Francisco State University Dancers, choreographed by Ray Tadio. The breadth, diversity and quality of the work is something that all the choreographers (and this long-running festival) should be proud of.

I did have favorites among the group, the first being Linda Bair's "My Hands/Tus Brazos", a modern piece that delved into the reality of a relationship, emphasizing the dramatic and less-happy interactions that we try so hard to hide. We saw Bair and partner Jorge Luis Morejon (both seasoned performers) running around each other, forcing affection, and controlling movements and reactions. Though the angst was predominant in the duet, there were also instances of tenderness, particularly a number of cantilevered, off-balance poses which could only be accomplished through communication and working together. My only critique of the work is that we were told prior to the dance what it was about and what the choreography was trying to say. This wasn't really necessary; give the audience the chance to reach its own conclusions. Another highlight (for me, at least) was Ray Tadio's untitled work. At first, this piece seemed abstract, though as it continued, I came to wonder whether Tadio was examining how one's physicality changes as others are present or absent in their space. His experimentation with the number of dancers in each segment led to this question: solos versus partnered duets and solos juxtaposed with spatial duets. It really seemed to be a comment on personal awareness. All seven of these young performers were amazing, and it was so great to see compelling stage presence and strong technique from a variety of body types. Having said that, the group does need to work a little more on the fluidity of their partnering lifts. The women have the core strength to hold any position and the appropriate preparation to achieve height and ballon. The men also have the muscular strength to support these complicated and intricate lifts. The problem happens when the two meet - the strength of both parties explodes a bit resulting in a 'splatty' lift. They are almost there, they just need a little more pas de deux training to maintain their individual strengths, while allowing the lift to evolve organically and calmly.

Abigail McNally's "H₁" had a very unique movement vocabulary, a joining of modern with hip-hop (popping, locking and accented isolations). There were lots of bent elbows and extensions that purposely collapsed as the joints gave into flexion. The first solo dancer had adapted well to this fusion style; the other three were well-versed in the modern aspects of the choreography, but the hip-hop was a little outside their comfort zone. MeND Dance Theater Company's "Banksy's Children" blended many genres: contact improvisation and acrobatics under the auspice of dance theater. Artistic Director Grace Alvarez's conceptual framework was very clear (childhood), though she was trying to answer too many questions all at once. Perhaps each of her ideas should be the fodder for a series of single works. Unfortunately, trying to say everything often leads to an unfocused result. "What Is It About Memory?" by Jetta Martin was definitely the loveliest dance of the night. Both women in this duet (Jetta Martin and Coral Martin) are beautiful dancers and accomplished performers (technically and artistically). But, the choreography was a little predictable. The best part of the piece was the opening image: the dancers facing upstage and simply rolling their shoulders. That moment was special and it needed to be explored, but instead what followed was a number of 'ballet class' combinations. Absolutely stunning but utterly safe.

Seeing dance at different points of development helps build and foster the relationship with that work. I hope I get the chance to see some of the "Works in the Works" pieces at another viewing in the future.

"ODD" - Axis Dance Company and inkBoat

2010-11-15T10:51:00.000-08:00


photo by Michele Clement


photo by Pak Han

Malonga Casquelourd Center - Oakland, CA
November 12, 2010

"ODD", the recent collaboration between Axis Dance Company and inkBoat played to a packed house at Oakland's Malonga Theater last Friday night. Obviously the result of intense examination and development, the entire work existed in a strange 'in between' place, serving up a main course of distortion with a side of integration. The formal aspects of the piece really 'made' the dance: the unique take on interdisciplinary performance and the choreographic study of physicality. Unfortunately, the overuse of distortion in "ODD" led to an entire hour and a half that stayed on one level. The structural nuggets had such enormous potential but the finished product did not allow them to be fully realized.

Interdisciplinary performance works that combine the different contemporary arts are super trendy right now, and usually done poorly. But, "ODD" demonstrated a better way to look at and think about connection and integration. Director and choreographer Shinichi Iova-Koga opted to have the artistic collaborations happen live and in real time - the cellist who had composed the score, a soundscape artist adding additional elements to the music, a painter who transformed blank canvases and dancers who moved and spoke text. The physical set-up also forced the audience to be responsible and culpable for what they were seeing. The musicians were far stage right, the dancers mostly in the center and the painter downstage left. We had to choose how to view the piece and determine what aspect drew the attention at any given moment. I generally think that interdisciplinary projects tend toward 'too much', but this was incredibly cohesive and brilliantly orchestrated.

The process of human movement was equally compelling. Primitive organisms were apparent as dancers inched their way across the stage like worms and crawled with the co-ordinating (same arm as leg) motion of salamanders. In addition, the body's transitory movement from one state to another was highlighted. As the performers slowly passed through a plethora of in between positions, we saw an emphasized representation of the small reflexive motions that each body experiences. It is difficult to notice these tiny adjustments in yourself, but pausing television is an easy way to see what is really happening in the body's muscles as they move. The bizarre facial expressions that you sometimes capture are examples of these fleeting moments. Attention to the enunciation of the body was obvious even as the dancers walked towards us. You could see each metatarsal as every toe separated and articulated - extraordinary, intentional and almost sensuous.

Though I clearly found Iova-Koga's concepts and choreography intriguing, everything was overshadowed by a huge cloud of distortion, and not in a good way. Violence, hostility and neurosis were the name of the game, epitomized through the grotesque: gnarled hands, body twitches, spastic sissones, bourées attempted with turned-in, locked knees. The overwhelming facial distortions were reminiscent of Butoh, and although they make sense in Butoh, here they didn't really fit (especially not to the extent they were used). This wasn't a Butoh performance, period. Not only did the distortion pull focus, but it also concealed the 'positives' in the piece: the interdisciplinary interactions and the physicality itself. There is definitely value in exposing audiences to all kinds of movement, though, emphasizing one idea too much always runs the risk losing its impact. Instead of being challenging and unexpected, "ODD" became monotonous and a little boring.

Hubbard Street Dance Chicago

2010-10-30T13:52:00.000-07:00

Penny Saunder and Jesse Bechard of Hubbard Street Dance Chicago perform Nacho Duato's "Arcangelo". Both photos by Todd Rosenberg.

Presented by Cal Performances at Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley, CA
October 29, 2010

As in most fields, dance criticism, dance performance and dance theory are riddled with debates. While some controversies are fascinating and others futile, one of the most pervasive is the notion of the 'heir apparent'. This concept can relate to many different aspects of dance: style, genre, companies and dancers themselves, though its most interesting application (to me, at least) is in terms of choreographic talent. Who are the up and comers? Of those who have been choreographing for some time, whose work sets itself apart? Who is beyond categorization? Who will be crowned the next genius dancemaker? In fifty years, when the dance literature chronicles our current decade, which choreographers will grace its pages?

Hubbard Street Dance Chicago's performance at Zellerbach Hall featured three artists who are changing the face of choreographic history: Nacho Duato, Alejandro Cerrudo and Jiří Kylián. Duato's astonishing "Arcangelo" opened the program. An ode to the idea of expansiveness, the key theme in this ballet was 'more'. As the dancers hit and maintained strong dynamic positions, one believed that they had reached their ending point. But, the body continued on - the flexed feet sensually melded into points; a slow methodical articulation of every metatarsal. This idea of continuous movement was also reflected in the music that accompanied Duato's work. Both Arcangelo Corelli and Alessandro Scarlatti were composing in the era of polyphonic texture. This compositional form and style also has few resting points, only reaching a cadence when each internal movement is itself complete. Within the music, the various symphonic lines overlap, converge, separate and interweave, creating sound that is constantly in motion. Duato has brilliantly mirrored this polyphony to the point that you can see the music on the stage. I still have not fully internalized the final instant of "Arcangelo" where two dancers climbed up and were suspended by a large piece of fabric. The entire audience was breathless and speechless as the curtain fell.

Two pieces by company member and resident choreographer Alejandro Cerrudo followed in Act II: "Blanco" and "Deep Down Dos". "Blanco", a work for four women, focused and explored the idea of individual self-expression. Each dancer was lit from above with their own spotlight and as they danced within that circular glowing pool, their personalities and individuality shone as brightly as the light did. The women celebrated their personal freedom through movement (which ranged from an amazingly slow headstand to a perfectly aligned penchée en face), but as the dance progressed, it was also apparent that they were somewhat trapped by their light. When they ventured outside of the designated space, a sense of fear and anxiety replaced the self-determination that they had experienced in their comfort zone. The energizing frenetic "Deep Down Dos" struck me as a sexy updated version of the gym scene in "West Side Story". The piece was very Robbins-esque (distinct technique coupled with a general narrative) with the occasional Grahamism (the airplane turn) thrown in for color. The joyful fellowship of the dancers spoke to the camaraderie of youth and society; it was only too bad that the dance did not end this way. Cerrudo opted instead to conclude the piece with a pas de deux. The duet was absolutely beautiful, but I think "Deep Down Dos" would have been even stronger if it culminated in the return to and recapitulation of the group vitality.

The evening ended with Kylián's "27'52"", a composition that tends toward dance theater, but at the same time, is not really dance theater. Rather, in this piece, Kylián combines contemporary movement with some theatrical elements commonly seen in the work of Pina Bausch and William Forsythe. With the house lights still up, "27'52"" commenced - the dancers engaged in a warming up/practicing/rehearsing scene. This provided a glimpse into the process of performance, something that the audience rarely gets a chance to witness. As the 'formal' portion of the piece began, motifs of violence and control came to the forefront. In the first duet, the woman was treated like a puppet, her limbs being moved around and manipulated amidst a strange electronic soundscore. The second set of dancers also exhibited anger and annoyance with their fist-fight choreography. The third couple looked as though they were being shot; parts of their bodies would be 'hit' and would subsequently flail backwards in space. These rough forceful sequences had a dual effect of shocking and anesthetizing the senses. When the movements began, they were upsetting and difficult to look at but as they continued on, the repetition took away their power. I do think that this particular dance was not the best fit for this company. Their performance was incredibly accurate, but they need more movement. This Kylián work is a little light on the choreography and heavier on the theatricality. Maybe another of his compositions would be a better choice for Hubbard Street's repertoire.

Every dance fan has their favorite choreographers - those whose work they defend and follow, whether good or bad. My personal list of favorites is constantly changing, evolving and expanding. Jiří Kylián has been a part of it since the mid-nineties. After Hubbard Street Dance Chicago's performance, my group now includes both Nacho Duato and Alejandro Cerrudo.

MamaLOVE: Seeds of Winter - Dandelion Dancetheater

2010-10-17T13:37:00.000-07:00

Photo by Luiza Silva

Shawl-Anderson Dance Center, Berkeley, CA
October 16, 2010

Though Paul Taylor is now considered a force in modern dance, the beginning of his choreographic career was a little precarious. Accounts of his early concerts during the 1950s indicate that the dance community wasn't always so convinced of his brilliance. Even the critics didn't know what to make of him, so some, like Louis Horst, said nothing. Now one of the two most notorious dance articles (the other being Arlene Croce's ridiculous non-review of Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company, "Discussing the Undiscussable"), Horst published a blank review of Taylor's work in the "Dance Observer". Saying nothing certainly says a lot.

This is how I often feel about dance theater. I'm pretty sure that something significant is happening onstage, but at the same time, I struggle to determine what that something is. So, I completely understand the urge to say nothing at all. Thankfully, there are companies like Dandelion Dancetheater that are attempting to make a clearer and more accessible dance theater. And, especially in the face of economic cuts for the arts, connection with the audience matters!

The prelude to Dandelion Dancetheater's "MamaLOVE: Seeds of Winter" employed three musings on the concept of motherhood by guest choreographers Dana Lawton, Chingchi Yu and Tammy Cheney. Lawton's "Mixed Blessings" explored the ideas of sameness and difference. Against a soundtrack of sonogram sounds and children's songs, slow ritualistic movements were performed in unison indicating the shared experience of mothers. In contrast, the five dancers also interspersed moments of differing choreography, speaking to the isolation that mothers can feel even when surrounded by others in their same situation. "Kiss", a duet by Chingchi Yu, symbolized the concept of mother and child, their relationship to each other (the good and the bad) and the personality of each role. The third excerpt, Tammy Cheney's "Necessary", ruminated on a frenetic, rushed sense of being, danced beautifully by Rebecca Johnson. Yet, in the face of all the anxiety and hurriedness came very calculated movements placed perfectly in space. The scope of each step was completely defined, having an obvious beginning and ending point - a moving comment on the carefulness that a mother must employ in the face of chaos.

After intermission, it was onto the main event, "MamaLOVE: Seeds of Winter". The opening scene was typical dance theater fare with the performers lying in a mish-mashed huddle and the perimeter of the stage space marked with cornucopia, a shoe, a lamp, a pot and a box of cereal. Then, through song, text, and dance, the artists of Dandelion Dancetheater (women of all ages) examined what we are told about motherhood, how we feel about motherhood, and what is involved in being a mother. These immensely vast questions trickled down into a pool of feelings: nurture, discipline, frustration, the fear of doing something wrong, of failing, of letting go. There were some humorous moments including a medical lecture from an "R.N." and a discussion of breast feeding as well as some incredibly disturbing images: an overly graphic birthing scene and a super violent interaction between a 'mother' character and a 'monster' character. Unlike much dance theater, the purpose of this piece was very clear: to decipher the complexity that is motherhood. But, in pursuit of that goal, the ensemble has accumulated too many ideas and too much material, leading to a work that tended toward choppiness. "MamaLOVE" is a valuable piece and when watching it, you can see the research, time, energy and analysis that these women have put into discovering what motherhood is, but some editing would be a good next step.

In the performance arena, dance theater is equated with the experimental; the obtuse; the bizarre; the avant-garde. Anyone who says different simply isn't paying attention. And, this tendency toward weirdness is absolutely fine. However, combining a little less strangeness with a little more straightforwardness doesn't hurt. As is evident with Dandelion Dancetheater, dialing the odd down a notch, while dialing the conventional up a bit equals dance theater that conveys its chosen message.

Diablo Ballet

2010-10-16T13:08:00.000-07:00

Lesher Center for the Arts, Walnut Creek, CA
October 15, 2010

The Lesher Center in Walnut Creek was abuzz with excitement this weekend as Diablo Ballet opened its 17th season. The first program demonstrated their signature style, strength and sophistication with Balanchine's "Valse Fantaisie", the Act I pas de deux from Val Caniparoli's "Lady of the Camellias" and the world premiere of "A Tribute to Lena Horne" by choreographer and company dancer Tina Kay Bohnstedt. All that was missing from this exceptional evening of dance was the full house that this group deserves.

"Valse Fantaisie" was quite literally the most silent dance I have ever seen. Every jump had impressive height and ballon followed by an incredibly gentle landing. The use of plié in the preparation and completion of every allegro movement was beyond textbook, it was transcendent. Even the huge grand jetés ended in a whisper. The accuracy of "Valse Fantaisie" was also stunning. Diablo Ballet is diligent in its re-staging of Balanchine's choreography, paying special attention to all of the steps, not just the flashy ones. Not every company can pull off such an authentic representation of this choreographic genius. Balanchine loved quick, intricate, detailed movement - the 45 degree arabesque, frappé, pas de cheval, lightning-fast batterie. Erika Johnson deserves particular mention for her series of saut de basque, en dedans turns as does Nikki Trerise White for her picture perfect glissades and pas de chats.

The pas de deux excerpt from "Lady of the Camellias" reinforced my belief that Val Caniparoli is the master of innovative partnering. His unexpected balances, supports and lifts add extra drama to the narrative because his choreographic choices are such a surprise: the turning fan lift, the use of the legs extended straight up in the air. In addition, Caniparoli seeks to develop the individual characters through their own recurring motifs, so that their identity has been well-established before they begin dancing together. In his work, the audience is truly seeing a union; two people working as one entity.

"A Tribute to Lena Horne" transported the audience to a jazz club, where music soared from voices, from instruments and from bodies. The dancers relaxed on chairs while each of them took turns in various groupings: solos, duets, trios, etc. As each feature began, the dancers themselves became a line in the musical score. They were not dancing to the music; they were the music using their bodies as the instrument of expression. I would categorize Tina Kay Bohnstedt's choreography as jazz ballet, combining traditional ballet elements with jazz movement vocabulary. There were lay-outs, stag leaps, hinges, hip isolations, and contractions - all of which are straight out of the jazz dance dictionary. Mayo Sugano and Rory Hohenstein were the embodiment of this contemporary and classical combination. Each had the enunciation in the spine, the articulation of the hips and the flexibility in the rib cage that is required by jazz. They really sold Bohnstedt's amazing fusion of jazz and ballet. The other four dancers are adjusting to this style; they still have too much rigidity and tension for this supine choreography. Letting go a bit more would really allow them to project the quality of the piece. Erika Johnson was almost there, but her performance in this dance was definitely affected by her pointe shoes. They were so soft on Friday night; it was almost as if she was dancing in regular flat slippers - her right foot never reaching a full extension on pointe. "A Tribute to Lena Horne" also may have been a little long. Near the end of the ballet, the dancers looked like they were getting tired. Whether that was an issue of the dance itself or their own endurance, I don't know, but I imagine as the work gels a bit more (Friday was its premiere), these very minor kinks will work themselves out.


Tina Kay Bohnstedt and Jekyns Pelaez in Val Caniparoli's "Lady of the Camellias"		Photo credit: Ashraf

Margaret Jenkins Dance Company

2010-10-09T15:57:00.000-07:00

Photo by Bonnie Kamin

Kanbar Hall, Jewish Community Center, San Francisco, CA
October 7, 2010

The Margaret Jenkins Dance Company's presentation at the SFJCC was a delight: creative and engaging choreography coupled with exceptionally skilled dancers. I always find their performances exciting and enjoyable. Though, I have to admit that the group's repertory breadth is not particularly impressive; in fact, most of Jenkins' dances (at least the five I have seen in the past four years) look very much the same. She is drawn to an identifiable movement style, a certain type of music (abstract, non-phrasal, repetitive, monotonous stream of notes) and a specific costume theme (one color palette with slight variations in design and construction). The program opened with "Other Suns I" (2009), a piece that had all of these elements, definitely in the style of Margaret Jenkins. But after intermission, some things were different. The preview of her new work, "Light Moves" still had the predictable music and costumes, but the choreography was a departure from the expected. This work-in-progress indicated that this company's repertory may be heading in a new direction; embarking on a new journey.

It was obvious from the opening moments of "Light Moves" that its movement vocabulary was divergent from Jenkins' usual fluidity. Here we saw exaggerated bent arms, sustained broken wrists, and plié passé turns with intensely flexed feet. These angular poses led to unusual shapes in the space, with the light, and against the backdrop. Each of these positions was also afforded the gift of time; they were held and suspended so that the full dynamism of the forms could be realized.

Another crucial difference in "Light Moves" was its casting and distribution of parts - finally we got to see Steffany Ferroni as the featured dancer. Ferroni and Emily Hite (though Hite was not dancing in this piece) are the hidden treasures of this company. Frankly, their physical and theatrical talent is superior but for some reason they are relegated to the background instead of being up front where they belong. The other women seem to only ever play one-dimension of being - angsty seriousness. So much so that it takes over their faces and their bodies to the point that the choreography ends up wallowing in anxiety. Breadth needs to be present in all aspects dance, including the dancer's ability to portray more than one emotion and the director's ability to extract this from them. I get that we need the angst, but a little joy doesn't hurt either. Ferroni is such a breath of fresh air. In "Light Moves", she demonstrated depth and abandon combined with passion, rapture and a distinct classicism. She can conjure and harness it all. Her two rélévé longs (where the straight leg is lifted slowly from a closed position on the ground into a high extension) were exquisite. This step is a perfectly matched metaphor for this dance; a movement that focuses on clear positioning along with intense, non-stop energy.

The brief glimpse into this work-in-progress indicated a positive deviation from a signature style. Everyone knows Margaret Jenkins can do continuous flows of movement, "Light Moves" shows that she is equally gifted with detached, staccato physicality. If "Light Moves" continues along its current path, the premiere next year will be a significant moment for The Margaret Jenkins Dance Company.

Preview - Velocity DC Dance Festival

2010-09-30T17:13:00.000-07:00

October 7-9, 2010

Sidney Harman Hall, Washington, DC

If you happen to be in the DC area next weekend (October 7^th through 9^th), go and see the VelocityDC Dance Festival. This event is a unique opportunity to celebrate DC's diverse dance community. It is a great introduction to the local dance scene and one of the few times in the year where different styles of dance share one stage. VelocityDC Dance Festival will make you a DC dance fan.

CityDance Ensemble, photo by Paul Gordon Emerson

With approximately a dozen participating dance companies, multiple genres are well-represented. My favorites in the modern dance category are CityDance Ensemble and Edgeworks Dance Theater. CityDance is a forward-thinking dance organization that takes artistic risks with contemporary pieces while still seeking to preserve historic modern dance works (through re-staging). Their offerings at VelocityDC Dance speak to this dual mission: the classic “Esplanade” by Paul Taylor and “+1/-1”, which I believe is Christopher K. Morgan's best work to date. Edgeworks Dance Theater also has a varied repertory though an underlying theme is present in all their choreography: the celebration of the masculine. A rarity in dance, Edgeworks is committed to discovering the male role through choreography, both from a content and a formal perspective. Washington, DC is home to two major ballet companies and both will be making an appearance at the festival: The Washington Ballet and The Suzanne Farrell Ballet. The Washington Ballet had an amazing season last year with some powerhouse productions (specifically “Don Quixote”, “The Great Gatsby” and their Genius³ mixed repertory program). They are on a roll, and I predict that their performance of Trey McIntyre's “High Lonesome” will be a highlight of the VelocityDC festival. The Suzanne Farrell Ballet is another company committed to the preservation of dance (primarily those ballets choreographed by George Balanchine and Jerome Robbins). An exciting addition to this year's program, they will perform a lesser-known 1975 Balanchine piece (“Tzigane”) that was originally choreographed on and danced by Farrell herself. Ethnic dance is also featured in the line-up with soloist Edwin Aparicio (who brought the house down last year) and Furia Flamenca. VelocityDC understands the importance of inclusion, and to that end, makes every attempt to have a broad and diverse festival, representing as many different dance genres as possible.

My review of last year's Festival:

http://www.heatherdance.com/2009/10/velocitydc-dance-festival-harman-center.html

My review of last year's prelude performance:

http://www.heatherdance.com/2009/10/cie-willi-dorner-bodies-in-urban-spaces.html

Bayanihan - The National Dance Company of the Philippines

2010-09-25T16:20:00.000-07:00


Photo by CAMI

Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley, CA
September 24, 2010

The dancing body is a joyful image. Yet surprisingly, joy is so often absent from the stage. Instead, we see sanitized modern and ballet, where the personal dancer is hidden so that the role, concept or vision being danced can take focus. This is not at all necessary to the cohesiveness of any piece, in fact, it's detrimental. Allowing dancers to show more of their personality does not compromise who or what they are playing; it adds to it. Real emotion is so much more compelling than artificial constructs. Bayanihan, The National Dance Company of the Philippines knows this to be true. Their Cal Performances presentation at Zellerbach Hall demonstrated that true human joy transforms dance. Their elation in physicality and love of movement was palpable through every moment of the program.

Such a rich diversity is present in the dances of the Philippines, reflecting the nation's long and varied cultural history. Many of the dances were clearly inspired by Spanish Flamenco vocabulary, with elaborate costuming, dramatic footwork, castanet-style hand percussion and exquisite épaulement. The port de bras was precise and exact in that unique Spanish arm position, lying halfway between bras bas and demi-second. There was even a Celtic connection on the program. As body percussion, stomping and sole slapping filled the stage, the men became one with Appalachian dancing (itself a composite of Irish, English, Scottish, African and Native American styles). And, of course, there was Asian lineage in the movement as well. In the mask and fan scene, all the choreography and staging played with the idea of the half circle, mirroring the fan's beautiful image with the dancer's bodies.

There were two common denominators present in all the different types of dance: flat feet and steps in threes. No matter the style or influence, all the company's choreography featured a flat footed approach, where the weight is placed on the whole foot, as opposed to being shifted to the ball of the foot. The flatness of the feet gave them a deep, low center, which led to calmness, composure and groundedness at every speed as well as a sense of connection with the earth, with the movement and with each other. In addition, the company employed several different variations on 'steps in three': balancés, pas de basques, pivot turns, triplets, step-ball-changes. These 'steps in three' are indicative of change - change in space, change in direction, change of purpose - quite a meaningful comment to describe the story of a people.

The National Dance Company of the Philippines was the embodiment of absolute joy. It was as if their internal emotion could not be restrained; they had it to share it through movement and choreography. The performance permitted us to see souls dancing in celebration.

"The Woman Invisible to Herself" - Mary Armentrout Dance Theater

2010-09-19T20:12:00.000-07:00

Photo by Ian Winters

The Biscuit Factory - Oakland, CA
September 18, 2010

Mary Armentrout Dance Theater's "The Woman Invisible to Herself" is a must see for anyone who is intrigued by experimental postmodernism yet still longs for meaning and a story. With this site-specific work, Armentrout shows that she is committed and pulled towards post-modern ideals yet still holds a strong desire to make dance that is about something. The concept was a unique exploration of identity, in which assumptions were challenged, inconsistencies revealed and parameters re-defined. And, what made the piece so clear and cohesive was the equal partnering of the narrative alongside three major tenets of postmodernism: non-conformity, egalitarianism and the blurring of the line between life and art.

The multi-room dance introduced us to different aspects of Armentrout's being, including those portions that identify as Asian (which she is not) and as a gay man (which she is also not). There were numerous examples of non-conformity, egalitarianism and the blurring of the line between life and art, though the following three moments of "The Woman Invisible to Herself" were particularly noteworthy. First, in an attempt to breakdown pre-conceived notions - of what it means to be a performer, the role of the audience and the relationship between these two groups - conversing, connecting and communicating with the audience was encouraged. Both Armentrout and Frances Rosario were clearly going off a script with their text, not improvising. Though it really felt that they were talking to us during the performance, not at us. Second, unusual performing spaces permeated this piece. We saw dance outside between vans, on the roof, in a hallway, and my favorite, in a reflection. As five of us crammed into a tiny viewing space, we watched the introduction of Armentrout's different personas in a broken mirror. The five minute musing was, quite literally, a glimpse into the fragmented parts of her psyche. Last, the movement choices were very relatable. There was much formalized modern dance vocabulary, but it was combined with movements everyone knows and does: sitting, standing, walking and running.

Most post-modern choreographers would be satisfied with a piece that showcased 'the big three' (non-conformity, egalitarianism and the blurring of the line between life and art) but, not Armentrout and her dancers. They worked diligently to inject the narrative of internal discovery into every segment of "The Woman Invisible to Herself" and it was this concept that transformed the post-modern vision into art. The tension of identity was present in all of the vignettes, though the outdoor offerings specifically drove this message home. Nol Simonse's solo was all about self-protection as he clung to the perimeter of the building; lying on the ground, hanging from the ledge, balancing on the stairs. His side attitude fed into a high parallel super-passé that was enveloped by a deep upper body curve - a strong image of self-preservation. Natalie Greene's frenetic variation illustrated how quickly and easily our purpose can be blindsided by our own thoughts. Greene would start facing one direction and then her body would throw itself backwards or sideways in space, taking her away from her chosen trajectory. On the roof, all the fragmented parts of the self came back together in a statement of support and acknowledgement. Motifs from Simonse and Greene's dances returned, with everyone taking on the off balance attitudes (to the front, side and back) as well as the running forward and being thrown back in space. We also witnessed a very intimate moment where the four dancers mirrored each other's choreography. They may have appeared to be dancing in unison, though, a closer look revealed that we were watching a learning and internalization of each other's physical language. The audience was privy to a very personal and vulnerable instant of discovery, exploration and the marriage of different states of being.

My only wish for this work is that the second act be re-thought, edited and perhaps absorbed into the first half of the performance. The roof scene was the final portion of Act I and its ending should have been the finale of the entire piece. On a beautiful horizon, four dancers swirled on distant rooftops amidst the city landscape and the sunset. The information and movement in the second half was interesting, though maybe a bit of a let-down after that amazing final image we saw on the roof.

Singing Praises: Centennial Dances for The Women's Building

2010-09-15T19:38:00.000-07:00

Flyaway Productions in association with The Women's Building
18th & Valencia, San Francisco, CA

September 10, 2010


photo by Austin Forbord

Dance performance is full of transformative elements. A flowing, chiffon dress can turn a woman into a ghost; an inventive set can place the scene in a forest; an amazing talent can change steps into artistry; and a choreographic genius can bring music to life. Costuming, set design, music, cast, vision - these are likely some of the first things that come to mind when pondering the factors that go into performance. Still, other components are equally essential in production. Site-specific dance reminds us that location also has the power and ability to influence and transform dance. Flyaway Productions' new work, "Singing Praises: Centennial Dances for The Women's Building" is a tangible example of this deep relationship between a structure and choreography. Artistic Director Jo Kreiter knows how to marry the narrative with aerial dance. She has succeeded once again, with a piece that focuses attention on what a building is, what it means, what it has done and can do for a neighborhood.

"Singing Praises" most prominent theme was the pull between 'staying' and 'going' - such a perfect metaphor for The Women's Building. This space has sought to be and still is a nurturing, welcoming and helpful environment for women and girls in the community, instilling determination, pride and self-worth. Though, to truly make a difference, its mission could not and cannot be insular. Strength and self-confidence need to be palpable both inside and outside the doors. The result is an architectural statement of protection and enveloping, support and encouragement, fortification and investment. Places like this have a story and it affects the choreography that happens on them and in them. This dynamic site evolved this dance from movement into community history and participation.

The dual message of embracing and releasing was beautifully translated into aerial performance by Kreiter and the company dancers. In several segments of the piece, bent knees were followed by full extensions; an encircling then an uncovering. Use of the fire escape ladders also indicated this dualism combining groundedness with an expedition to something new, somewhere new. Here, we saw a repeated motif where one foot was planted to the building and the other extended in arabesque out and away. In one of the many duets, one dancer was attached at the window frame close to the structure, while the other floated out free in space. These two were performing the same steps, in unison, yet the choreography was being experienced in two different realities (in the Center and in the community). Last, the circular patterns in "Singing Praises" spoke volumes: the spinning in attitude and the walking in circles (toward the building, then away) again highlighted the cyclical nature of this space in the lives of women.

Kreiter's work also brings up the issues of fragility and precariousness. "Singing Praises" took place right in the middle of the Mission District on 18th, and none of the streets had been sealed off to traffic. Many of the motorists going by were completed distracted, focused on the dancing instead of on the road. It made me feel anxious and ill at ease - fully expecting to hear the screech of brakes at any moment (thankfully, the night I was there was accident-free). In addition to the traffic-issues, these nervous emotions were heightened because dancers were suspended from harnesses, flying through the air and balancing on the edge of the roof. But, however uncomfortable, I think these sensations are necessary. It's good to be reminded every once in a while that existence is tenuous. It's a reality check, and for some (me included), increases our awareness to the gifts in life.

Stepology - The Bay Area Rhythm Exchange

2010-08-23T10:02:00.000-07:00

The Herbst Theatre, San Francisco, CA
August 20, 2010

Stepology's presentation of "The Bay Area Rhythm Exchange" celebrated the creme de la creme of today's professional tap dancers - Channing Cook Holmes, John Kloss, Mark Mendonca, Jason Rodgers, Dormeshia Sumbry-Edwards and Lukas Weiss. Here was an infinite depth of talent displayed by true masters of this craft. However, the more intriguing element of the performance was how it revealed their specific areas of tap expertise.

Mark Mendonca was definitely the best all-round technician. His solos were phenomenal and his feet seemed to move at super human speed. Particular highlights included: heel twists across the entire stage, a series of single and double grab-offs, inventive and unexpected stomp time sections, and a progression of single-wings that were simultaneous with a toe-stand turn. John Kloss opened his dance with a fun a cappella sequence complete with body percussion. This man is the king of the grapevine, transforming a very basic step with his incredible rhythmic variations. Kloss was the most consistent with his sound; he could be at any spot on the stage and his taps were crystal clear. Dormeshia Sumbry-Edwards had the best articulation. You could hear her attention to detail and precision in the 5-beat riffs, paddles and back walks. Subtle differences were present in her every scrape, where the point of origin (the side, the toe or the heel) produced distinct pitches and unique timbres. Jason Rodgers' tapping was fantastic, though it was his style that drew the eye. Of all the soloists, he was the one who looked most like he was dancing. Lukas Weiss won for best novelty combining tap and juggling and Channing Cook Holmes was the best surprise of the program: an amazing drummer who has equal skills as a rhythm tapper.

There were only two issues that kept this performance from perfection. First, the audience needed to see more of the dancing. Because the floor microphones were at the front of the stage, most of the choreography took place there. This proximity made it possible to hear everything, but blocked visual access to the dancer's feet. In fact, I would say that a good 50% of the tapping was masked and hidden. Second, the inconsistent lighting was unfair to the performers. The design itself was fine, it was the lighting board management that required more attention. The blackout at the end of each solo was completely ill-timed. Just as the dancers were acknowledging the amazing musicians (Channing Cook Holmes, Lamont Keller and Maya Kronfeld), the stage lights went out. I know that tech-time can be tough with much to address in a short period but with a professional show, this kind of timing problem should have been fixed.

Nonetheless, this yearly show is a must-see.

Mao's Last Dancer

2010-08-19T12:46:00.000-07:00

Director - Bruce Beresford
Screenwriter – Jan Sardi

Most dance movies can be categorized in one of two ways: the non-fiction documentary or the fictional major motion picture. The former seeks to share actual events through historical footage and interviews while the latter is a made-up story in which dance is prominently featured. Both types have their niche, yet both also have their problems. Dance documentaries can be incredibly fascinating, revealing and educational, but they generally don’t enjoy a very wide audience (and viewership definitely matters). The wider release fictional movies often end up combining good acting with bad dancing, or great dancing with horrible acting. If an actor is cast in a dancing role, then the director has two choices. Try and teach them or use the very obvious dance double. Both options are just not good. Casting professional dancers in lead roles is also not a solution because more often than not, they must be taught how to act (and this attempt can be unsuccessful). There are a few exceptions to this (in my opinion, at least): “The Turning Point”, “Dirty Dancing” and “The Company”. These three managed to overcome the obstacles, and featured wonderful dancing coupled with fabulous acting.

Still a third format exists where true events are adapted into a screenplay. Though not as common with dance-based movies, this winning formula produces successful and compelling results. This is exemplified by “Mao’s Last Dancer”, a film that retells the unique journey of ballet dancer Li Cunxin. In two hours, we learn how he was selected from a rural village in China to compete for a spot at Beijing’s national ballet school, his acceptance into that academy, how he spent his youth and adolescence training for a professional career at this rigorous institution, the separation from his family during these formative years, his voyage to the States for a summer intensive, how he found love, became a star, made the difficult decision to stay in America, fought to make that happen and how he endured the consequences of that choice. At each point, the audience is keenly aware of three desires: Cunxin’s longing for home, his continual search for artistic meaning, and his pursuit of freedom. Throughout his life, these yearnings were often at odds with each other. However, by the end of the movie, Cunxin has experienced the joy of an existence where all three were finally realized.

Birmingham Royal Ballet’s Chi Cao was absolutely superb in the title role; a combination of solid acting and transcendent dance. One scene particularly stood out. After years of not being permitted to see or communicate with his parents, Li is reunited with them toward the end of the film. This moment was so raw - Cao was pure emotion as he dropped to his knees in tears. All of his dancing was extraordinary, but specifically the Act III variation and pas de deux from Don Quixote. The way in which the cinematography captured Cao’s technique was stirring; the audience in the movie theater applauded like they were watching him live on stage. That’s how genuine, authentic and transformative “Mao’s Last Dancer” is.

Two members of the supporting cast also deserve particular mention. Madeleine Eastoe (as Lori) was delightful, both in the dramatic portions and in her few instances of comic relief. The excerpts of Eastoe and Cao in “Swan Lake” were teasing to any ballet fan. I immediately wanted to see more of them in this particular version of the full-length classic. Amanda Schull (as Liz) has really come into her own as an actor. A decade has passed since her first foray into film (“Center Stage”), and she has certainly used this time to improve her acting. The scene in Liz’s apartment where she watches Li dancing on television was fabulous. Schull had no lines here, but her face spoke volumes. She is no longer just ‘a dancer who acts’; she is an actor. Having said that, I will admit that I missed seeing her dance in this movie. Now that her acting and ballet skills are on par with each other, it would have been nice to see the latter utilized.

San Francisco Ballet - Stern Grove Festival

2010-08-16T12:05:00.000-07:00

San Francisco, CA
August 8, 2010

The weather was a bit unsteady and unpredictable last weekend at the Stern Grove Festival, but it proved no match for the San Francisco Ballet. This was the first time that I had seen the company since returning to the Bay Area and their mixed repertory performance certainly has me anticipating the coming 2010-2011 season.

The opening ballet was the one most affected by mother nature. As the temperature in the grove began to drop and the precipitation kicked in, “Prism”, by artistic director Helgi Tomasson, had to be interrupted. The stage is in the open air though protected by a canopy, and thus, the performers from most of the elements (though not from the cold air that does tend to permeate the outer sunset district of SF). The surface wasn't accumulating any water, and I imagine that the dancers themselves were staying relatively dry, but the orchestra was completely vulnerable. After the first movement, they had to be ushered under cover to protect their instruments. Then, once the sky had calmed down, “Prism” continued with its second and third movements. This beautiful work is a unique take on neo-classicism. Tomasson demonstrates that this particular style of ballet should not be a celebration of bravado, but instead should seek to uncover and reveal the relationship between choreography and music. Here, the shining star was not one particular dancer, but the choreography itself as Tomasson unlocked the intricacies of petit allegro. The old favorites in this oeuvre were definitely present, though “Prism” was anything but predictable. Every few phrases, some unusual steps were thrown in for color and dynamics, including accented, staccato balletés in parallel.

The program forged on with two pas de deuxs – the first from Christopher Wheeldon's “After the Rain” (an ironic title for this particular show), and the second from Act III of “Don Quixote”. Both were danced by fan favorites (Yuan Yuan Tan and Damian Smith followed by Lorena Feijoo and Vitor Luiz, respectively) and these seasoned dancers were strong and solid as one would expect. But Tan, Feijoo and Luiz were less than inspiring (Smith, on the other hand was a force). Something was lacking with them. It really seemed like they were just going through the motions of the piece rather than surrendering to it.

I think we can all admit that ballet could use a little more fun in its life. Enter Mark Morris' “Sandpaper Ballet”, which closed the afternoon at the grove. In this full-length work, Morris takes the audience on a whimsical romp through the school yard, complete with teasing, competition and camaraderie. This fusion of ballet and modern dance was a needed break because really, there are only so many piqué arabesques and supported pirouettes that one can take in an afternoon. Seeing something different is just plain refreshing. And, it is good for the audience to be reminded of and exposed to the breadth of these artists and this company.

The men of the San Francisco Ballet never disappoint; every time, they just absolutely astound me. Tomasson's “Prism” accentuated their incredible sense of timing. They turn in exact unison; not just finishing at the same instant, but also within each internal revolution. These dancers are so completely in tune with each other every second they are onstage. Their training is cohesive and all encompassing. Excellence in individual technique is definitely being sought, while at the same time, the importance of being a reliable and steady partner is being stressed.

I'm still not sure what Christopher Wheeldon is trying to say or do with "After the Rain", but nonetheless, Damian Smith's performance in it was stunning. So often, he gets overshadowed by the powerhouse women that he dances with. Here, he was dominant; he was commanding. Smith was not just there to facilitate the ballerina. He was the draw.

Laughter in the Dark - Robillard Theatreworks

2010-08-10T12:06:00.000-07:00

The Garage, San Francisco, CA
August 6, 2010

A man's dissatisfaction with his life sends him out searching - searching for something better, for someone better. His journey ultimately takes him into a manipulative adulterous relationship, where he unexpectedly morphs from the controller to the controllee. Others experience the repercussions of his actions - his wife, his child, his friends, and in the end, we learn that his dissatisfaction has always been with himself. Robillard Theatreworks' artistic director, Sarah Moss, has created a unique theatrical adaptation of Vladimir Nabokov's haunting story: "Laughter in the Dark". What begins as a dramatic play is transformed into subtle dance theatre with the addition of well-placed and thoughtfully choreographed movement sequences.

Photo by Sarah Moss

The first dance theatre interlude found three women of the evening luring, teasing and enticing the main character, Albert Albinus. The steps in this section were role-appropriate with slinky high kicks and circling hips, but they were also purposely melodramatic. The choreography was carefully designed to present a situation and make fun of it at the same time. What we saw here was a very common dance theatre technique done well: seriousness combined with satire in the hopes of revealing the themes of the story.

Act II's opening dance was the highlight of the evening in which Margery Fairchild (Elisabeth) painted the portrait of an emotionally-abused woman. Her relationship with her husband (Albert) had long been a contentious power struggle coupling her desire for love and attention with his longing for control and escape. Then, adding to their already embittered dynamic, comes a letter revealing his infidelity. Elisabeth rips up this note in a mesmerizing ritual trying to rid her life of this harsh realization. After the pieces scatter, her demeanor shifts. Suddenly, she struggles to clean up the remnants in a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of order in the mess that is her life. The captivating solo was full of balancés, a smart choice with which to tell this character's story. This step follows a down, up, up pattern, speaking to the roller coaster ride that is Elisabeth's existence.

Photo by Sarah Moss

Moss' use of Frederic Chopin's Prelude in Db Major and his Prelude in A Major were very fitting to underscore the tense family scenes in the Albinus home. Both compositions are full of appoggiatura, an important musical motif that Chopin favored in much of his work. The purpose of this embellishment is to create dissonance on the strong beats of the music. Very fitting for this group of individuals; an audible dischord to frame their domestic strife.

Sarah Moss understands dance theatre and knows how to effectively utilize its devices. Much work from his genre has a tendency to spiral into absurdity's abyss and it does not have to be that way. For dance theatre to work, a recognizable narrative is needed. Maybe a literal story, maybe not, but something more than just conceptual abstraction. Robillard Theatreworks' "Laughter in the Dark" provides this narrative framework; a true example of dance theatre. It challenged the audience while still making sense.

Labayen Dance/SF - Carmina Burana: Revisited

2010-07-24T16:18:00.000-07:00

Dance Mission Theatre, San Francisco, CA
July 23, 2010

Choreography for narrative dance must be representational. Plot, characters and their relationships are important, but alone, insufficient. The movement itself must convey the story and the message. It has to mean something. Enrico Labayen gets this and he is able to translate it onto the stage. Labayen Dance/SF's new evening length production, "Carmina Burana: Revisited", is packed with choreographic motifs that speak of his narrative concept. They celebrate the complexity and vastness of the female being: power, strength, allure and just the tiniest bit of vulnerability.

The idea of second position was a recurring theme in Labayen's choreography. We saw it in plie, on straight-leg and in the air (extensions in ecarte). This stance is one of the most powerful in dance; it provides a large base area where the dancer is solid, strong and commanding. Labayen's use of this boundless position reflected an equally authoritative quality in his seven female dancers. Bent elbows were another predominant motif, that served a dual purpose. At times the women looked as though they were being 'hung' by their elbows; almost like puppets. And, in other moments, the bent elbows took on more of a bird-like quality with an aura of freedom. With one simple position, we were provided insight into two states of being: control and abandon. A third repeated sequence occurred in between the different vignettes. Once the dancers had completed their variation, they would walk forward toward the audience with a piercing glance, and then slowly turn upstage and walk away. They were a little bit like models on a runway. Definitely confrontational, yet at the same time, seductive.

Without a doubt, the stand-out performer of the evening was Crystaldawn Bell. Her two solos were absolutely astounding; every movement merging seamlessly with the next. Hers was a presence of calmness and elegance combined with strong technique. From her penchee arabesque to her backwards fish roll to her circling shoulders, every step was lush.

"Carmina Burana: Revisited" was divided into 21 short scenes, 10 in the first half and 11 in the second. The idea of these movement-specific segments was interesting, though the transition between each was much too abrupt. It gave the work a halting, stop/start feeling that I think can be improved upon. Also, the unison dancing needs to be more exact. This particular evening was the premiere of "Carmina Burana: Revisited" so I imagine that the synchronicity will better gel over time.

Successful narrative dance requires that its choreographers go 'all in'. Labayen Dance/SF has done it with "Carmina Burana: Revisited". Enrico Labayen has reminded us that if you are going to tell a story, tell it everywhere - in the dancers' eyes, in their walk, in their glances and most important, in their movement.

Post:Ballet - Concert One

2010-07-20T12:05:00.000-07:00

Cowell Theater, San Francisco, CA
July 17, 2010

Ballet fans who live in the San Francisco/Bay Area are truly lucky. Whether your taste is traditional or contemporary, there is something for you. In addition to the touring companies that come through Northern California, San Francisco Ballet, LINES Ballet, Smuin Ballet, Diablo Ballet, and Company C Contemporary Ballet all call this place home. The talent is here and there is ample opportunity to see it. As of this weekend, an addition must be made to this already impressive list. Robert Dekkers new endeavor, Post:Ballet, gave its inaugural performance at the Cowell Theater in Fort Mason. Aptly named Concert One, this program was an exciting display of strong choreographic talent, solid technical dancing and experimental interdisciplinary collaboration. But, what was most apparent on Saturday night was the freshness and optimism that radiated from the stage.

The best piece of the evening (in my opinion, at least) was "B-Sides", danced by Jared Hunt and Christian Squires. Dekkers' concept for this work provided insight into one character, at two different points in his life - Hunt's adult juxtaposed against Squires' youth. This was fabulous casting; these two men were well-matched technically and visually compelling in the piece. The choreography for the older persona had a maturity in its movement. His arms cut through space with a defined confidence, showing the volume, depth and vastness of experience. Hunt's solo was joyful and jazzy - hopping and scooting from side to side, with strong extensions emerging out of several turns. His was an expression of being carefree yet certain; Dekkers' choreography indicated a strength of conviction. The second, more adolescent perspective, was generally more placed and staid. There were intermittent moments of wildness, but always returning to a careful and restrained quality. "B-Sides" is an important work because it shows that duets do not always have to read as a relationship between two individuals. In this case, the audience was able to see two different sides of one person: a grounded confidence alongside a youthful searching.

The women's ballet, "Flutter", was equally intriguing. The first half was a specific, intricate and detailed examination of polyphony: unison dancing interspersed with subtle moments of canon. Beau Campbell, Ashley Flaner and Beth Kaczmarek were right on with the canon sections, but when they were in unison, they were not really working as a team. They seemed spatially unaware of each other; almost like we were watching three soloists instead of a well-defined trio. The choreography wasn't the problem; it was the delivery of it that needed some attention. Having said that, once we were into the second half of "Flutter", things got better. They were able to focus their group dynamic a bit more and we were afforded some instances of brilliant technique - Beth Kaczmarek's pique attitude deserves particular mention.

The two remaining pieces involved musical collaborators, each of whom performed their original compositions onstage with the company. "Milieu" looked like a picture of social anxiety. The curtain opened to find the dancers enveloped internally - folded into positions where some covered their eyes and some their ears. In contrast, "The Happiness of Pursuit" was an exploration of human movement; an abandonment of boundaries that led to a number of physical revelations. I enjoyed both of these works, though they were both very dense. With all seven dancers, live music, dominant lighting designs and smoke, there was too much going on. The choreography and the message got a little buried by all these extras.

Post:Ballet is going to be a group to watch over the next decade. As this company continues to grow and develop, I hope that they are able to remember and summon the abundant hopefulness and enthusiasm that was present at their first full-length concert.

Traveling Light - Joe Goode Performance Group

2010-07-11T15:57:00.000-07:00

Old San Francisco Mint, San Francisco, CA
July 8, 2010

Joe Goode Performance Group's presentation of "Traveling Light" was a site specific tour through a theatrical wonderland. The scenes of the piece unfolded in five different rooms of the Old San Francisco Mint building; each weaving together the dramatic fibers of several interdisciplinary elements. Under the direction of Joe Goode, these ingredients became an artistic composite. "Traveling Light" was big - sometimes in size, but always, in scope and vision. The largess was compelling and fun, and within it (or occasionally buried beneath it) were four simple observations of humanity.

Want and Need
A melodramatic musing on luxury, extravagance and wealth met us first. A female character was perched on one balcony, against an opulent, full purple ballgown. From this place, she delivered her droll monologue on the plight of the rich. Her elevation was literal; she was physically above us. Though, it was also figurative. Her text and the cadence of her voice signified an entitlement, a 'better-than' mentality. This dancer then came down to our level (sans the dynamic gown, wig and jewelry) and as she addressed us face-to-face, it became apparent that the pull between want and need was her message. The suspension and release in the closing choreography spoke to this dichotomy. Suspension is all about holding on for dear life; our belief of where we should be. A release is a giving in, a fall, a relief: a revelation of true abandon.

Hiding and Exposure
Next came the outdoor portion which opened with a solo by Felipe Barrueto-Cabello. While portraying a poverty-stricken character, his movements toggled between closed and open. In several instances, he folded his body and hid his face illustrating how personal struggle often turns into invisibility. In addition, these enclosed movements were combined with an unencumbered, joyful display of the sternum and xiphoid process. These areas of the body reveal the center in a very vulnerable way, exposing one's inner soul and its deep longing to be seen. This section ended with Barrueto-Cabello carrying half a dozen or so cabbages and walking forward toward the audience. He slowly progressed step by step, trying with all his conviction to keep a hold of every prop. Many fell and rolled all over the stage - a realization of the utmost importance. If you try to balance everything on your own, it almost always ends up in a mess.

Noticing
The dancers in the third room began by speaking about quiet, so I thought that perhaps the idea of stillness would be the insight here. But, as this Act progressed, stillness and quiet gradually fell into the background and the emphasis shifted to active noticing. We followed the journey of two people who were initially unaware of each other through a process of transition and finally, into an organic duet where both parties were in the partnership. They moved from a haphazard disconnect to a natural pas de deux. So many gifts come from paying attention and simply being aware.

Appearances and Reality
This final variation was all about facade. We were introduced to a very tightly-wound female character, who spoke about expectations, manners and appropriateness while moving about the floor in a high-collared, hugely-bustled, mechanical white dress. She spoke in an articulate, affected manner and paused in between her thoughts to pose like some sort of puppet or doll. As she began to describe the romantic escapades of one youthful summer, she stepped out of her dress and began to dance with her suitor. Here, the full inventory of a relationship was explored without pretense. Through a contact improvisation styled duet, we saw it all: love, desire, anger, fighting, silence. Nothing contrived; only truth.

For the most part, the project's organizational challenges were no match for these talented artists. Most of the performers had variations in different spaces during the same Act. They entered and exited each room with confidence and determination, never once looking flustered or rushed. And, at any given moment, wherever they needed to be, they were completely present - physically, emotionally and corporeally. With such grounded commitment, it was hard to believe that just a minute prior, they had been dancing completely different choreography in a completely different place to completely different music with a completely different purpose.

The division of "Traveling Light" into several spaces also brought unique logistical issues. The audience was broken into four groups, each originating in a different place. In order to see the entire work, the groups were escorted to and from the rooms, all four cycling in their own trajectory. The ushers and front of house staff accomplished this difficult task with incredible efficiency; they were a well-oiled machine. The pre-show was perhaps the only organizational obstacle that had not yet been conquered. Prior to the main performance, the audience was encouraged to explore the downstairs vaults, where we could see the staging of humorous, topical vignettes. There were just too many people in too small a space.   Attempts were made to route the crowd in different directions but everyone just ended up bottlenecked in the main corridor. The company also performed a beautiful vocal overture that looked like it had some movement associated with it. Unfortunately, if you were on the side of the room that I was, you saw nothing but their backs. I think the pre-show is a great idea, but in order to really get a sense (or even a glimpse) of what is happening, the logistical strategy may need to be re-visited.

A work of this magnitude requires a sizeable cast. To that end, the company was supplemented with 'additional performers', acting as a chorus of sorts. Too often, a chorus morphs into set dressing and their purpose becomes the provision of silent density onstage. Not this group. This was an assembly of unique and distinct bodies and personalities. They were necessary for the messages being conveyed; well-integrated, very present and moving all the time. Their individuality was refreshing, but there was too much variance in the level of these eight dancers. Technical maturity was definitely at odds. Some were absolutely up to the task of Goode's choreography, while others just weren't ready yet for work of this level. And, being right next to each other made these technical differences even more obvious. All the performers in "Traveling Light" were good dancers, just at different points in their training.

Liss Fain Dance

2010-06-24T17:02:00.000-07:00

Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco, CA
June 18, 2010

Merce Cunningham's modern dance tradition will always be a force. The late choreographer's company is on its last tour (ending December 31, 2011), after which the group will disband. Merce Cunningham Dance Company's final bow will be a significant event, marking the end of an enduring modern dance institution. But thankfully, that evening will not be the end of the Cunningham influence. From technique to improvisational processes to chance procedures, students of this rich tradition are contributing to and ensuring the survival of the Cunningham legacy. Liss Fain has a respect for this past coupled with a commitment to moving forward.

The Liss Fain Dance program at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts featured two premieres, How It Ends and Speak of Familiar Things. Both were incredibly strong works that demonstrated Fain's unique choreographic intuition and her desire to take risks. How It Ends was an interesting exploration of synchronicity. The dancer's lower bodies moved in unison while their arms, heads, and upper torsos performed differing elements. Like in much Cunningham work, there was a common denominator; a central theme; a stabilizing force. And, at the same time, several different variations were applied against the basic motif. Sameness and difference - both at once. Also, the traveling triplet made a significant appearance in this dance, sweeping across the stage. This was the first time in a long time that I have been able to visibly pick out this fundamental modern dance step in performance. The triplet is so simple, so beautiful, yet so often absent. Fain's use of this one movement spoke volumes on the contrasting qualities of loftiness and groundedness; said with a continual down, up, up; down, up, up. How It Ends also featured some very complex, challenging and dense partnering sequences. It was creative choreography, though a bit abrupt as the dancers cycled through the various duets. The transitional steps needed a little more attention.

In the artistic notes, Fain reveals that Speak of Familiar Things has a literary connection; to that of Wallace Stevens' poem, “Debris of Life and Mind”. As soon as the curtain went up, I also felt a very strong literary bond, but mine was to "Where the Wild Things Are" by Maurice Sendak. The music, the colors, the backdrop, the costumes and the choreography all pointed me in this direction. From the beginning second to the blackout, animal movements jumped from the stage: the serpentine snaking of the spine and head, the wing-span suggested by arms slightly bent in 2nd position, the use of coordinating rather than oppositional arms and legs and the stag jumps.

Sometimes the biggest risk is also the most meaningful offering. Such is the case with How It Ends and Speak of Familiar Things. Liss Fain's utilization of classical technique with modern sensibility speaks of the past and the future. Her dancers have incredibly strong ballet technique, and Fain is not afraid to highlight this training and let it shine in her choreography. This is a gutsy, risky move, because so many modern choreographers still run as far away from ballet as they possibly can. Classical technique should be celebrated in modern dance; not hidden nor avoided. This is an apparent and necessary lesson of Cunningham choreography and Cunningham technique. Liss Fain was paying attention.

The Tosca Project

2010-06-16T16:57:00.000-07:00

American Conservatory Theater, San Francisco, CA
June 10, 2010

History is compelling. Representations of real-life events are just more interesting than those that are made-up. These are the true human experience; depictions that, for a moment, allow the audience insight into a past era and the experience of another's reality. American Conservatory Theater's The Tosca Project shares the long journey of a celebrated North Beach landmark: Tosca Cafe. As numerous decades pass onstage, change is there, but so is stability. By the time the lights fade in the final scene, many things have developed, evolved and adapted, but much has stayed the same.

The framework for the historical study of this institution was a dance chronology. An abundance of movement styles were included but these dance forms were more than just steps; there was definite meaning behind them. The 20s Charleston was all about indulgence, extravagance and a belief that the gloriousness could never end. Enter the Depression, where a fantasy dance sequence graced the stage. In this, you could see the characters needing and wanting to forget their reality and transcend themselves to a different place. The slow, yearning pas de deux to “What'll I Do” signified the separation of wartime and when the fighting was over, the ecstatic jitterbug took center stage. But, amidst this elation also lived sorrow. In the duet's reprise, the returning sailor was incapable of his original movements. He was a shell of his former self; his soul gone. The 60s brought in the broad hippie movements of peace, hope and love, with circular dances of inclusion and belonging followed by the partying disco of the seventies. And then, a solo dancer dressed in black doubled-over with pain as he desperately tried to dance as he once could. This was the devastation of AIDS in the 1980s when it first emerged as a deadly epidemic. All these scenes represented specific moments of the past, and the dances of each decade helped to identify each vignette. But the choreography also spoke to the life of those periods: the emotions, the relationships, the fears, and the joy.

As the 1989 earthquake hits Tosca Cafe, past characters and movement motifs return to the stage while the owners are cleaning up. These variations were unchanged from their original appearance. What we learn here is that walls, windows and furniture are not the building blocks of Tosca; instead, it was these people, their interactions and their presence that created the community of this space.

The most important contribution of The Tosca Project is that finally there is dance theater that makes sense. Carey Perloff and Val Caniparoli have managed to conquer this obscure genre by creating a piece that is accessible but not trite, inventive but not bizarre, intelligent but not obvious. For some reason, the category of dance theater has became synonymous with the strange and the odd. I am tired of seeing dancers scream onstage for 10 minutes or cut their costumes away at a painfully slow pace all under the guise of 'dance theater'. Enough with the weirdness! Dance theater and conceptual modern dance are not the same thing, period. If dance theater artists could take a step back and see that the genre they have chosen requires some type of recognizable story, we would all be better off. The Tosca Project proves that dance theater can be rigorous and challenging while still being delightful, enjoyable and easy to relate to.

Spinning Yarns Dance Collective & Robin Anderson with RE|Dance

2010-06-15T16:43:00.000-07:00

Standing In The Current
Dance Mission Theater, San Francisco, CA
June 5, 2010

Art is subjective. Audiences need the opportunity to reach their own conclusions. Unfortunately, some choreographers over-educate their viewers. Program notes can be helpful; but sometimes, they are problematic. Those that fall into this latter category simply provide too much information and take away the audience's interpretive ability. Standing In The Current, a two-company collaboration at Dance Mission Theater, showed both sides of this coin. One group permitted a glimpse into their process without summarizing every aspect of the work. Sadly, the other gave everything away. Nothing was left up to the imagination.

"The Mysterious Disappearance of the Second Youngest Sister" was a successful harmonization of story and structure. It placed characters and relationships into a Brontesque antiquity where period costumes, vintage books, an old-fashioned dress form and a weathered typewriter graced the stage. There was a palpable commitment to the narrative, though the movement never fell victim to the plot. The story existed as a framework within which the choreography's essence could be revealed. Perhaps the most fascinating element of the movement vocabulary was its unique take on control. Robin Anderson, Michael Estanich and Lucy Riner focused on the precarious dualism of this issue. There's was a study of balance versus non-balance and stillness versus frenzy. There were mini competitions in the piece to see who could sustain each movement quality the longest. Another motif found the dancers piling books into tall columns and then attempting to balance on top of them - a powerful comment about uncertainty. Had the focus been purposely directed into a complex narrative, these important movement explorations might have been missed.

Spinning Yarns Dance Collective's two part work, "Holding On and Letting Go" was very compelling: interesting choreography, well-rehearsed, and accurately performed. Part II (which for some reason was performed first on the program) opened with several groupings onstage: a soloist working through meditative repetitive movements; a contact improv-like duet focused on weight-sharing and a trio working with synchronization. These clearly represented the different ways of dealing with grief: some turn inward and prefer to be alone, others desire mutual support, and still another option may be shared experiences with other individuals. As the dance continued, these initial groups became less isolated, merging with each other and taking on the different movement qualities. Again, a clear showing of how we may (consciously or sub-consciously) seek numerous coping mechanisms. My main criticism of the work is that I had been told what I was supposed to be seeing by the artistic notes. And, after reading them, it was impossible to watch the piece from a neutral place. Susan Donham's choreography is good; it doesn't need such an in-depth written explanation. It can stand on its own.

A little ambiguity in dance goes a long way. Give us a chance to make the connections.

Google Woman: Images of Female - Quixotic Dance Technologies

2010-06-07T18:15:00.000-07:00

Z Space @ Theater Artaud, San Francisco
June 4, 2010

Google Woman: Images of Female takes its audience on a journey between perception and reality. Presented this past weekend by Quixotic Dance Technologies, this work conveys the porous relationship between female symbols and our conception of them. A series of vignettes examined nine different figures and sought to explore how much of ourselves we inject into these icons.

The blurry line between truth and imagination was best illustrated by the Anne Boleyn section, danced by Maria LaMance and Coreen Danaher. The strong characteristics of courtly Renaissance dance shone with intricate and delicate footwork: balletés, petit rond de jambes, and pas de bourées. The upper bodies remained quiet but responsive; LaMance and Danaher's demeanor evoking and reflecting the dignity and formality of court. At the same time, choreographer Paris Wages infused bits of contemporary movement into the dance, which revealed and questioned the relationship between historical existence and contemporary presence.

Video imaging was a huge part of Google Woman. The opening sequence featured a dancer whose face was masked by a white sheet, while numerous visions of women were broadcast where her face would be. In the 3rd segment of the piece (Morgaine), the soloist's live dance was interspersed with reflections of her 'recorded self' dancing on a screen. This use of technology and videography was conceptually interesting, though its execution did interrupt the flow. At several points, members of the stage crew had to enter the space to set-up the electronics. Depending on the venue, it may be impossible to avoid this; still, it is important to acknowledge that these disruptions give any full-length work a choppy feeling.

Google Woman: Images of Female featured choreography by Paris Wages, Anandha Ray, Michael Lowe and Jennifer Charles. The movement created by each of them was interesting, appropriate and indicative of the different historic and mythical icons. They definitely did their homework and research before composing the individual sections. Having said that, much of the evening was over-choreographed. The amount of movement could have been cut in half, not in terms of length, but certainly in density. There was too much dance happening, sometimes to the point that the choreography crossed into a competitiony-dance studio look. The images of the women and the message of the project would be much clearer with some editing. Less really can say more.

The Washington Ballet - Genius3

2010-06-02T17:19:00.000-07:00

Harman Center for the Arts, Washington, D.C.
May 19, 2010

Choreographers are magicians. Not just in a figurative sense, but quite literally. Creating dance certainly takes special skill; the translation of ideas into movement is magical all by itself. But, there is also some good old-fashioned illusion present in much choreography. Clues to intent are hidden within staging; nuances and structural intricacies layered beneath steps and sequences. These elusive elements are pieces of a puzzle – keys that can help unlock the vision or meaning of a work. The Washington Ballet's “Genius³” program featured four ballets brimming with these hidden treasures: The Four Temperaments (George Balanchine), Cor Perdut (Nacho Duato), Pacific (Mark Morris) and Push Comes to Shove (Twyla Tharp).

The mystique behind The Four Temperaments lies in its ability to defy categorization. In one sense it is a representational study of the four humors, giving each of them life through movement (melancholic, sanguinic, phlegmatic and choleric). A perfect example is the hip thrust/grand battement motif, indicating the aggressive passion of the choleric. Though in another sense, the ballet is very presentational, illustrating the structural relationship between music and dance. Shown by Jonathan Jordan's temps levées series, which grew in height and intensity along with the musical crescendo, as well as Maki Onuki and Brooklyn Mack's attention to the sforzando dynamics in their variation. This epic work is narrative, but not only narrative; it is abstract, but not only abstract. The Four Temperaments speaks truth to both choreographic forms - as maybe only George Balanchine could - without merging them into some sort of hybrid.

There were many compelling moments in Mark Morris' Pacific. The opening scene had a ghostly quality, as the women eerily floated across the stage – ethereally bouréeing in parallel. Jétés also had a special purpose in this piece as their presence corresponded to and emphasized changes in meter and time signature. But Pacific's veiled gem was in its partnering; this dance reminds us what a pas de deux really is. The duet between Jade Payette and Jonathan Jordan had some beautiful lifts and balances, yet it truly was a 'dance of two'. Morris revealed the simple power that exists between two bodies in space, where a glance can be more telling and meaningful than a spectacular bluebird lift.

In most dance literature, Twyla Tharp's Deuce Coupe (1973) is given praise as the first 'fusion' or 'cross-over' ballet, wherein classical and modern dance mixed together. Push Comes to Shove was made three years later, and although it was not the first, it may be the best example of fusion dance. In Deuce Coupe, one dancer performs textbook ballet exercises amidst a flurry of modern choreography. Both genres are present on stage, but the individual characters remain true to their own style - the ballerina sticks to ballet and everyone else stays with modern. Push Comes to Shove takes this creative notion one step further with every dancer taking on both styles of movement. This dance represents an entirely different and more advanced level of synthesis.

Sona Kharatian has been receiving a lot of attention lately with The Washington Ballet. She was prominently featured in their last program, “Bolero(+)” and was onstage for most of “Genius³” (dancing main parts in The Four Temperaments, Cor Perdut and Push Comes to Shove). But, unfortunately, at Wednesday night's preview, her performance was off. Her role in The Four Temperaments was full of piqué arabesques and Kharatian's working leg was continually bent, never reaching a full extension. Cor Perdut, her duet with Jared Nelson, began with a partnering fumble that garnered an audible gasp from the audience. Her preparation into a supported roll was both a little late and too far away from Nelson to be successful. Her upper back also seemed stiff throughout the whole program; her torso not responding to the curvature required by both Duato's and Tharp's choreography. And, in her traveling turns, she left the upper portion of her spine behind, rather than turning in one clean motion. I wouldn't be a bit surprised to learn that she was either ill or fighting an injury.

I love watching new ballets, but often feel that at the first viewing, so much detail is missed. With more established works, such as those on TWB's "Genius³" program, there is an opportunity to look beyond the surface of the ballet to the choreographic wealth that lies beneath.

CityDance 2 - Contact

2010-05-04T12:43:00.000-07:00

The Music Center at Strathmore - Bethesda, Maryland
May 1, 2010

Firsts are significant events. Life is punctuated by firsts: first steps, first words, first day of school, first date, first kiss and many other firsts that need not be named. As any dance company develops, they too will experience a number of momentous milestones; one of which is the full-length program. This past weekend, CityDance 2 gave us their first featured performance with Contact, presenting six varied works that spoke to both the freshness of this group and the historical organization from which it came. Being able to participate in this incredible showing of talent must have been thrilling for the whole CityDance family and watching it unfold was quite a privilege.

The first act opened with The Bicycle Project by Kate Jordan, a mechanical exploration of the bicycle and bicycle culture. This was the only piece that I had seen before, though I still found newness and undiscovered elements in it. The first sequence employs a progressive construction of forms on a diagonal line from downstage left to upstage right. While the cast moved along this structural route, the projection screen slowly revealed a bicycle image. This combination of media and movement gave a strong sense of the evolution in assembly. Eric Hampton's Girl Friends made me believe that someone else, besides Jerome Robbins, understood how to mix ballet, jazz and contemporary dance and make it work. If only more choreographers could grasp this deep connection. During Adrain Bolton's Givin Up, all I could think about was liturgical dance. This was partly informed by the gospel-y music and the flowing dresses, though the passion and intensity of the choreography and the dancing was what really brought me to that place. The first solo, danced by Kate McDonald was particularly noteworthy: the longing and reaching of her arms and legs, her sidewise Graham pleadings, the crescendo sequence of her three grand rond de jambes where she looked like she was actually stirring her inner emotions. It was challenging, emotional and awakening all at the same time. Givin Up may not be liturgical dance, but it is certainly a consummate example of what liturgical dance should be.

The second act began with Leslie Ann Scott's Limbo - an homage to modern dance genius, Jose Limon, and his lifelong examination of the upper body curve. Scott utilized this motion in every possible direction (front, back, side, saggital) illustrating the depth of meaning that this curve can reveal. And, she highlighted the most important lesson of the upper body: the arms react because the torso and back move first. False Front by Delphina Parenti showed us two sides of a relationship. First was the idea of performance, were each partner plays their expected part, followed by an unraveling reality of what happens when no one is looking and the truth of a connection can't hide anymore. The final piece of the evening was Paul Gordon Emerson's Peregrine. Accompanied by the live music of Bottomland, Peregrine was an unencumbered celebration of wildlife. The gymnastic lifts, partnering jumps and inventive arms reflected a natural habitat and made a larger comment on the freedom of motion. The dancers jumped for pretty much the whole piece, representing the beauty and dynamism in what already exists and 'what can be'. So much is possible if we can just manage to let life happen.

When I read my favorite theorists and critics (Edwin Denby, Selma-Jeanne Cohen, Marcia Siegel), it always strikes me that they saw and wrote about today's dance greats before we knew who they were going to become. The starting phases; the early recognition of talent. It makes me wonder about the future of this company and these dancers: where will they be in twenty or thirty years? With the specialness they already exhibit, there is no limit to what they can achieve.

Fieldwork for Mixed Desciplines-The Dinner Party

2010-04-30T12:56:00.000-07:00

Works-in-Progress
DC Arts Center - Washington, D.C.
April 28, 2010

The Field/DC's presentation of The Dinner Party was one of the first dance events that I attended after moving to DC last summer. So, as I prepare to return to California, it seems fitting that another episode of The Dinner Party will be one of my final DC reviews. A wonderfully diverse program awaited the audience with nine individual offerings. Choreographic works still dominated the program, though this time, music and photography were also included. The breadth was an accurate representation of 'fieldwork for mixed disciplines' as opposed to my first Dinner Party where there was only dance and only solos. This broader scope also permeated the choreographic works themselves: two solos, a duet and three group pieces. Variety was the common denominator on Wednesday night.

The four solo performances (2 music, 2 dance) were the highlights of the evening. Patrick Smith's Creation Suite, a tripartite acoustic guitar composition, was beautiful. In particular, the first movement, Kinnara, explored the space between major and minor keys using arpeggiation. I felt the presence of a Baroque prelude where the purpose was to explore different keys to the enth degree, including notes and intervals that are not necessarily a part of that original key. This type of experimentation is really the only way to unlock the mysteries of and discover the possibilities within the major and the minor. The electronic music of Yoko K. involved audience participation in composing her soundscape. She was so genuine, authentic and passionate about her message of 'small changes' that you could not help but be charmed by her and her musical goals. Bridget Kelly's Center explored and examined points of origin in the body and how they translate into choreography. Positions were achieved (the arm behind the body, a pointed index finger, arabesque extension), though the intent was focused on how the body got to those postures. Nothing was peripherally placed; it organically emerged from a central point, traveled through transitory space and then achieved the final pose. These resting places were very beautiful in their own right, but for me, the impetus and transitional movement were most compelling. Feel This, composed and danced by Ilana Silverstein, was the final piece of the program. The costuming and choreography suggested a Duncanesque, Egyptian quality as she moved through a series of very dramatic poses. Silverstein is a strong performer and her choreography interesting, but her gaze was very distracting. She constantly looked around with no clear focal point, taking away from the overall piece. This is something that is incredibly difficult to recognize if you are choreographing on yourself. I wonder if she should spend some time out of her work setting it on other dancers. A lack of visual focus would be obvious if she was choreographing on someone else.

Of the group pieces, the most developed were two by Orit Sherman, Sphere and Inside a Cell. Sphere has a very consistent image throughout the work, starting right with the opening pose. The dancers stand in 2nd position, with their hands grasping an imaginary ball. As they moved through the dance, the volume of that spherical space remained clear in their bodies. Inside a Cell reminds us that sometimes biological progressions can be both calm and organic or abrupt and jarring. Sherman sought to illustrate both aspects - quiet flow alongside punctuating change. Although the dancing and choreography were strong in both of these pieces, I must admit that at times, I was worried about the safety of the dancers. Each piece had seven women and the performance space at the DC Arts Center is tiny. There was some holding back and some actual collisions due to the restrained working area. I would be interested to see these pieces in a larger venue to get a fuller understanding.

The idea of works-in-progress is necessary in the performing arts, but it is also leaves me feeling a little lost. I want to see another showing of all these pieces at their next level of development. I think this would provide a much stronger relationship between the audience and the work. Then again, maybe it's completely valid to not have a sense of resolution.

NY Export: Opus Jazz

2010-04-28T14:18:00.001-07:00

PBS Great Performances
Dance in America
"NY Export: Opus Jazz"-2010
original airdate-March 24, 2010

The relationship between dance and film has several layers and dimensions. First and most common, dance is usually filmed. Videographers generally record most work (in rehearsal or performance) for archival, press or company purposes. Second, with the rise of 'interdisciplinary' and 'new media' movements, film has a home in live performance as an additional element conveying the message of the choreography. Then there is the dance film - a separate entity where dancemaking and filmmaking purposefully fuse in the creation of a cohesive artpiece. For a successful dance film, there must be a two-way give and take where choreography adapts to film and film adapts to choreography. Most dance films fail to meet this criteria and the film portion takes over, resulting in a completely inaccessible and weird product. Some level of weirdness is okay, but can there be more to the choreography than one dancer sitting on a chair twirling her hair for an hour and a half? The post-moderns would counter by saying that this pedestrian, gestural movement is just as valid a dance choice as a pas de deux. Fine, but can we have a little balance? I don't mind experiencing deconstructed movement but, if a film is billed as a dance film, it would be nice to include some formal technique as well. I think that a true dance film is a rather elusive animal.

Enter NY Export: Opus Jazz, a new 2010 film version of Jerome Robbins' Ballet in Sneakers (1958). This may be the only real and actual dance film I have ever seen, where the choreography remained technically and authentically intact, the abstraction of filmmaking was captured through landscape and scenework and most important, Robbins' examination of youth was constant in both media (film and dance). The opening visuals of the film are a short journey through everyday youth activities: relaxing at the beach, playing video games, skateboarding, bicycling, riding the subway, doing laundry. Before any dance step enters the picture, the narrative of young urban life has been established. The context is there from the very beginning and holds true through the entire film. The first group dance sequence takes place in an outdoor space where circle dances and couple dances pervade. This provided a strong indication of both the social role of dance and the flirtation and romance behind it. Another open space, warehouse-style this time, housed a variation for the men where the movements embodied struggle, anger, abandon and freedom. The filmed locale provided a place where these feelings could be explored and the choreography itself - lunges with hands reaching out and quick pirouettes followed by abrupt falls to the floor - told of the internal emotions. In all of the segments, real jazz steps helped forward the story: rule-breaking parallel pirouettes, laid-back step-ball-changes, flirty hip isolations, sexy fan kicks, showy hitch kicks, and unrestrained axles and lay-outs. Robbins was able to bring this unique physical syllabus to life in a way that fed his narrative vision.

Not only was NY Export: Opus Jazz an excellent dance film, but also an example of solid jazz choreography. Jazz dance is in a precarious place right now; at a crossroads of sorts. Currently, jazz is abundant in dance studios, performance teams and on reality television. At the same time, it is not very successful in professional or semi-professional choreography. The dance genre itself is not to blame; jazz dance has an incredible movement vocabulary on which to build interesting and artistically challenging work. But the reality is that jazz dance, as used today, lacks artistic maturity and choreographic rigor. For jazz to participate and flourish in the repertory of professional companies, we must look beyond its adolescent performance team identity. Not every movement has to mean something, but it doesn't have to look like a dance studio recital either. Jerome Robbins' choreography shows that jazz has a important and valuable role alongside ballet, modern, and post-modern dance: the depth of this art form is there, it just isn't being adequately accessed right now.

Deborah Riley Dance Projects - Chew on This

2010-04-20T14:34:00.000-07:00

Dance Place, Washington, D.C.
April 17, 2010

Our relationship with food is complex. There are weighty yet pertinent topics to be addressed: sustainability, hunger, obesity, greed. Though in the quest to give these serious issues their due attention, it is easy to forget the other end of food's spectrum: community, enjoyment, fun, celebration. In Chew on This, Deborah Riley Dance Projects succeeded in balancing both sides, without downplaying or emphasizing either. In addition, Riley did not attempt to solve any problems relating to food. Rather, through the interdisciplinary performance, she introduced various topics and let the audience sit with them. There were no conclusions or calls to actions, just ideas and information. An unresolved story, like this one, forces the audience to look at how the subject matter plays out in their own lives. A risky and vulnerable undertaking for a choreographer, but incredibly relevant.

A sense of inclusion was apparent as soon as you walked into the theater. Instead of the usual drawn curtain, the performance space was open and filled with dancers engaged in a picnicking scene; they were talking, snacking and interacting with each other and the guests. The audience was encouraged to partake of food tables set up at the front of the stage. It was a very relaxing and inviting environment where food was a soothing, calming presence.

The formal part of the program began unobtrusively while the house lights were still up and everyone was still chatting. The company members from Chew on This then led us through a plethora of emotion and action surrounding food. The first major group section integrated pieces of fruit into the choreography, where we saw the dancers treating each apple and orange with significant care and attention, as if the food held a sacred meaning for them. This section had a surprising end when the movement abruptly turned to grabbing, hoarding and hiding the food. It was interesting to see this place of respect spiral into one of selfishness. A subsequent segment featured short duets employing contact improvisation as the primary choreographic tool. Here the couples shared various points of weight in order to accomplish the steps, speaking to our mutual need in achieving common goals. One final variation revealed the dichotomy that often exists in the world of food. One couple performed a haunting, almost hopeless pas de deux surrounded by a circle of other dancers. The circle individuals were passing fruit back and forth to each other in the true spirit of sharing. While that was occurring, the two dancers in the middle were clearly excluded from partaking in this meal. They tried (several times) to break away from the circle and move to another space, but each time, they were followed and enveloped again. A brilliant juxtaposition of how we include only those we choose, without looking right in front of us at those in need.

Deborah Riley has created a brave composition where somber and lighthearted material can peacefully co-exist. Peter DiMuro even provided moments of true humor with his narrative interludes. Modern dance that tackles societal problems is so often jam-packed with angst, sometimes to the point that the importance of the issue gets lost. Balance is the key and Riley's Chew on This reflected a necessary parity.

The Washington Ballet-Bolero(+)

2010-04-20T10:57:00.000-07:00

Harman Center for the Arts, Washington, D.C.
April 14, 2010

Before most Washington Ballet performances, Artistic Director Septime Webre greets the audience with a brief comment about the evening's program. Besides being a very genuine moment where the fourth wall disappears, this provides valuable context. At Bolero(+) on Wednesday night, Webre shared two important observations. First, he noted that the three dancemakers on this particular bill celebrate a new generation of ballet. They are contemporary artists, creating current, new work. Second, Webre shared that the Washington Ballet was able to work directly with each of these choreographers. Wunderland was created on the company one year ago by Edwaard Liang, Karole Armitage's Brahms on Edge was a world premiere and Nicolo Fonte was available to set his Bolero on this talented group. These days, the gift of working in the studio with a ballet's creator is becoming less and less frequent; now more of a luxury than the norm. This personal interaction was very apparent in all three pieces; the attention to detail proving that no other method of staging dance works quite as well.

Wunderland unfolds like a steady crescendo. Filled with several divertissements, it is hard to imagine that each section could be better than the last. They were. As Liang built on what had come before, each segment transcended expectation. Several specific moments deserve mention. Near the beginning of the ballet, there was a short combination, featuring the men. They were unbelievably on. A double pirouette followed by a double tour en l'air not only ended in unison, but each internal rotation was also completely together. I think I actually said "wow" out loud. I don't believe that I've ever seen Maki Onuki and Luis R. Torres dance as a couple, but I was hooked after their duet. Both are beautiful, technical dancers, but it was their chemistry that electrified the stage. Theirs was the best connection in the entire evening. Jonathan Jordan's pirouettes and fouettes were fantastic and it was fun to see some brief glimpses of innovative capoeira in his solo. Lastly, Elizabeth Gaither and Jared Nelson's slow, intense pas de deux had the most fantastic and inventive partnering moves. Without much preparation, Gaither leapt backward into a pseudo-backbend over Nelson's head. The lift came out of nowhere, which made it even more astonishing. Having said that, I must say that Wunderland's opening scene has always been a disappointment for me. The visual element is stunning: the curtain rises to find five women balanced en pointe in a deep plie (2nd position) with their upper backs curved down toward the floor. I've seen this ballet more than once and I've never seen all five nail this difficult balance. Last Wednesday, two dancers looked like they might fall over.

Karole Armitage's Brahms on Edge had some interesting moments, although the choreography was not particularly deep. One exception to this was its compelling start, utilizing seven women in the company. It looked like an adagio center combination in a ballet class - a good representation of this learning environment. Every dancer has different degrees of flexibility, strength and internal timing and the classroom is where they are encouraged to build their technique, challenge themselves and take risks. Armitage really captured this essence. Beyond that short segment, the compositional elements were par for the contemporary ballet course and the piece not very well-defined. The dance explored elements of the abstract, narrative, and deconstructed narrative, though at the same time, not really fitting into any of those choreographic forms. Some choreographers enjoy this ambiguous presence in their work, however, the problem with this dance is that ill-defined read as imprecise.

Nicolo Fonte's Bolero, the namesake of the program, was a fascinating examination of tempi. This work explored the extremes of speed: accelerandos and ritardandos coupled together in the choreography. The juxtaposition of fast and slow movements was interesting in its own right, though even more so, when underscored by Ravel's monotonous, recurrent music. There was a continual, pulsing undercurrent with which the choreography's speed could play. Fonte's comment on tempo also spoke to the energy required for different types of movement. Bolero questions the assumed and required energy output for all movement, fast or slow.

New York Theatre Ballet-Dance on a Shoestring

2010-04-17T10:03:00.000-07:00

NYTB Dance Gallery, New York City
April 10, 2010

These days, audience development for ballet companies must be high on the priority list. The situation is dire; the economy is bad and funding opportunities for the arts seem to dry up a little more every day. In such a climate, fostering long-term relationships with subscribers is of utmost importance. For some groups, it may even be the key to their survival. Repertory choices need to be broad - new exciting ballets that appeal to a wider audience coupled with classics that balletomanes adore. But, a well-rounded repertoire is not enough anymore. Audience participation has to be more than 6-10 trips to the theater every season. Entrenched involvement should be the goal; a two-way conversation between the company and the patrons. Events, parties, and receptions are fine ideas but they are really 'old school'. Everyone needs to start thinking outside the box like they are doing at New York Theatre Ballet. Under the guidance of Artistic Director Diana Byer and Associate Artistic Director Christina Paolucci, they are cultivating a true community spirit in support of the company. Their 'Dance on a Shoestring' program provides magnificent but intimate performances in their studio space for only $15 a seat. This is what inspires audiences to make long-standing commitments to dance, not fancy champagne auctions.

The joy of the company was palpable in each of the five works on the program. The waltz from Sleeping Beauty took two children from the school and put them onstage with NYTB dancers. This is very special because it is accurately represents the breadth of any company. Seeing the school is important, and the kids who danced this waltz were very good. Some performers could learn a thing or two watching the young boy's (Kai Monroe) double pirouette. Marco Pelle's Transit is a visual triumph. The soloist, Kieran Stoneley, began with his back to the audience, and wore a mask on the back of his head. As he moved his arms through the choreography, an optical illusion was created where the back of the body was being transformed into the front. Once that sequence was complete, he removed the mask and arose from the floor. Then, Stoneley performed the most beautiful promenade in attitude, a movement missing from so many men's variations. We were fortunate to see this breathtaking position again in Antony Tudor's Soiree Musicale; his is maybe the best example from a male dancer of the correct line in attitude. The Tirolese section of this work, danced by Elena Zahlmann and Mitchell Kilby, was joyous. Petit allegro sequences like this one need sufficient plie, suspension and ballon so as to not appear labored. Zahlmann and Kilby met these technical demands, though the quality of their variation displayed much more than textbook accuracy. The final mention must go to Carmella Lauer, who performed in three of the works. Her presence onstage was both stunning and compelling. Whether dancing or just watching her fellow company members, she was always in the moment.

The final piece, Suite from Mazurkas (choreography by Jose Limon), did present some challenges. This particular dance is full of fast footwork, running steps, and leaping sequences; very playful combinations of movement. The NYTB dancers have definitely grasped the spirit and emotion in this choreography, but they are still missing some of the groundedness required for this type of modern dance. The 'up' was there: flow, suspension and height inarguably present in all the jumps. Giving into the floor needs more attention. The upper body curve that is characteristic of Limon technique was also a bit stunted. The women, specifically, need to let go a bit more to reach greater freedom in the torso. The piece is close and is good on this company, it's just not quite there yet.

After my first 'Dance on a Shoestring' event , I am a little sad that I don't live in New York. If I did, I would come to see New York Theatre Ballet in any performance I could. This is what really thoughtful outreach can do. This company should be applauded for its efforts toward building a lasting dialogue between its patrons and its company activities.

Idan Cohen-Swan Lake

2010-04-15T14:54:00.000-07:00

Center for Performance Research – Brooklyn, New York
April 8, 2010

Swan Lake in Williamsburg, Brooklyn - mismatch or marriage? Establishment dance in a land of ironic T-shirts, asymmetrical bangs, giant horn-rimmed glasses and sleeve tattoos? Pairing these two entities does seem a bit strange. Swan Lake is about as conventional as you can get in dance, and the Williamsburg District is anything but conventional. Thankfully, the title of a piece is not necessarily definitive of the work. Such is the case with Idan Cohen's Swan Lake, presented last week at The Center for Performance Research. The dance may be set to Tchaikovsky's score; but the story is only a jumping off point; the title contextual. Cohen's avant-garde, experimental examination of this classic is perfect for a setting that breeds mod coolness. Through his interdisciplinary analysis, Idan Cohen has created a piece that punctuates the dualistic elements of Swan Lake (good/evil, love/betrayal, life/death, human/animal), while uncovering the deeper underlying theme of manipulation. It is this discovery that is the work's most significant accomplishment.

Manipulation plagues the story of Swan Lake. Throughout the entire ballet, the character interactions relay this rampant virus. We see the evil Von Rothbart as the king of duplicity whose forceful hold on Odette and Prince Siegfried is unyielding. In addition, there are others whose actions are insidious, notably the Prince's mother and in some instances, even Benno (although, perhaps unconsciously). This same theme (manipulation) appears in Cohen's Swan Lake, though its manifestation is unexpected. His Swan Lake had a kinesthetic, archaeological rigor, the result of his intense research into this historic tale. He chipped away at the peripheral nonsense, and produced an honest comment on what manipulation means in the body and to the soul.

The harp variation in Act I spoke to the dichotomy between what the body can accomplish with dance and the demands that dance makes on the body. In this section, the solo dancer maneuvered and arranged her limbs into various poses. At times, her attempts to adjust her body were deliberate but calm, while at others, she was bullying and forcing her anatomy into extreme positions with a fury of coercion and force. This visceral example of manipulation speaks to the relationship between dance and the body. Years of studying ballet (and most other dance forms) does not automatically afford you with kinesthetic knowledge; in fact there is often a lack of attention to anatomy and body mechanics. Dancers are constantly told to lift this, tighten that and turn out without the necessary information about the muscles that they must access. Some muscle groups are not even where you think they are (turn out muscles being the perfect example). A clearer understanding of kinesiology means everything in dance; it can change even common exercises, like grand battement. Grand battement is a thrown kick; the accent occurring at the highest point followed be a controlled return to 5th or 1st position. This textbook description is only part of it. If you understand that the trajectory of the leg is an arc, your engagement of that movement changes dramatically. With this added insight, the 'out' becomes just as important as the 'up' or the 'down'. Sadly, this crucial guidance is not always provided, even by advanced teachers. Dance does not have to be a manipulation of the body, but when kinesiology and body mechanics are missing from the equation, it can feel that way. This Swan Lake did not attempt to provide solutions or answers to this problem; instead it simply brought this important issue to the table for discussion.

This juxtaposition of old and new made Idan Cohen's Swan Lake perfect for Williamsburg. This enclave of “hipsterdom” stylizes in the now, yet with a clear reverence and celebration of what has come before. Cohen's Swan Lake was on the same page; his was not an adaptation or even a re-make of the classical Swan Lake. Instead, the important messages and lessons from the old were taken through a transformation into something new and applicable for today.

Baltimore Ballet-10 Year Anniversary Gala

2010-03-30T11:15:00.000-07:00

The Lyric Opera House-Baltimore, MD
March 28, 2010

A Gala is a much-anticipated event in any ballet company's season. It is even more special when it commemorates a milestone, like the 10 Year Anniversary Gala for the Baltimore Ballet. But, behind the jubilant nature of a gala lies a ton of work and effort. In addition to the usual logistic issues associated with such a production, this particular celebration had to weather and deal with the unexpected: Mother Nature. The original performance had to be canceled because of this year's epic snowstorm. Rescheduling could not have been easy (juggling everyone's timetables, re-booking the venue, advising the patrons, etc.) but they made it happen. The result - an inspiring evening of dance, rewarded with a lengthy and well-deserved standing ovation.

The program's varied skill level was refreshing: students of the school, dancers from the Baltimore Ballet, guests artists - some seasoned professionals and others at early points in their careers. Cem and Elysabeth Catbas assembled a wonderfully diverse cast, reflecting the scope of any ballet company. Many directors are afraid to put their students onstage with professional dancers and many professional dancers feel that it is beneath them to perform with students. But, in reality, all dancers are students; they exist in a constant state of learning. How fitting to show this journey of the artist in concert with the journey of this company.

The sixteen pieces in the program also showed incredible breadth. Of all the solo variations, the most technically-sound were Katherine Williams (Aurora's Variation from Act 3 of Sleeping Beauty), Devon Teuscher (Gamzatti Variation from La Bayadere) and Jade Payette (Medora Variation from Le Corsaire). Payette's turns in second were extraordinary. Amanda Cobb and Alys Shee also gave compelling performances which highlighted both their electric stage presence and technical aptitude. Cobb performed two divergent works – Jean-Pierre Bonnefoux's haunting Chaconne and the charming, light-hearted Bluebird pas de deux. She always dances with her entire being; an inherent quality that is truly transformative. Alys Shee's role in Catbas' Carnival of the Animals also deserves particular mention. Her performance in this controlled variation demonstrated a deep understanding and knowledge of how adagio choreography must be danced. Turns and pirouettes are easier when done quickly, but in adagio work, every rotation demands a steady, equal pace mirroring the rest of the movement. This is a rare skill and Shee has mastered it.

I was fortunate to have had a sneak peek of In Between Time; choreographer Tony Powell invited me to watch him create this work. And, the excerpt performed in the Gala was the section that I saw in rehearsal back in February. The beginning duet, danced by Devon Teuscher and Junio Teixeira, was full of rich movement material, and what I noticed in the performance is that, under Powell's direction, they were able to mold all the ideas and motifs into a steady stream of consciousness. The transitional steps were there, but there were no visible stops and starts; the whole work was seamless. This is an excellent example of polyphonic technique, which does not have any phrasal breaks. Polyphony needs an unbreakable flow and In Between Time has captured this essence.

Gala performances are really all about the dance; it is exposed and revealed without any of the peripheral 'stuff'. This vulnerability definitely tests the strength of the choreography and the performer. Yes, each dancer, or group of dancers, have their costumes and their music, but they are performing entirely out of context (no set, no story, no corps, no conceptual framework). In most cases, the Gala stage is bare with minimal lighting so each variation must compel in its own right. It is a pure forum in which to see dance; where the choreography and the dancer's performance become the only commanding elements. At times, it can feel a little manic to be in the audience while the action moves from Sleeping Beauty to La Bayadere to Swan Lake to Le Corsaire, but if you can get past those abrupt transitions, you will realize that the Gala format, like that of Baltimore Ballet's 10 Year Anniversary Gala, gives a truly genuine celebration of dance.