Tuesday, February 22, 2011

"Fable and Faith" - Robert Moses' Kin

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.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

"Eonnagata"

Conceived and Performed by Sylvie Guillem, Robert Lepage & Russell Maliphant
Presented by Cal Performances at Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley, CA
February 10th, 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.

Saturday, February 05, 2011

Smuin Ballet - Winter Program

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.