Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company-Yerba Buena Center for the Arts

I love that Bill T. Jones is a true chameleon, constantly shifting and impossible to pigeon-hole. As soon as the critics think they have him figured out, he changes. One minute, he is a genuine post-modern choreographer crafting dances focused on form and devoid of content. Then, he is experimenting with interdisciplinary collaborations between dance and other media (text, song and video). Next, he morphs into a post-post-modernist (if that is even a word) attempting to reconcile the chasm that has been created between structure and subject (incidentally, which he helped to create). During this post-post-modern phase, Jones became one of the creators and authorities on deconstructed narrative. This pairs largely abstract movement with a reduced conceptual framework in an effort to examine new ways that form and content can co-exist. Currently, another choreographic persona is emerging and in his most recent work, Chapel/Chapter, Jones injects himself into yet another category: dance theater.

Dance theater is still a relatively new choreographic genre that remains closely tied to the German school of choreography (where it is referred to as Tanztheater). This is where it first emerged with Kurt Jooss and continues today under the auspices of Pina Bausch and William Forsythe. This form of dance mixes story and structure together with very specific objectives and intentions, making its treatment of the narrative and its exploration of movement distinctive.

In dance theater, the story is driven by themes from the darker side of humanity: indifference, abuse, rage, and violence. With this serious subject matter, dance theater pieces make no attempt at explanation, justification or rationalization. In fact, dance theater works deliberately throw these behaviors in the audience’s face. The purpose is simply to immerse the audience in the reality of darkness and allow them to feel the unresolved emotions surrounding it. Bill T. Jones’ treatment of the narrative in Chapel/Chapter is a textbook example of dance theater. The topic of the piece is violent death told through three stories: 1) a planned suicide, 2) a random killing of an entire family and 3) an accidental murder. All three plotlines are presented to the audience (through text, song, gesture and movement) as plain and simple descriptions; unfeeling and eerily calm. Neither remorse, nor a desire for redemption were present; just blunt accounts of participation in these three deaths. There was no explanation for the crime, no justification of actions and no rationalization of conduct; there was only the darkness of death.

Jones also followed the tanztheater convention of repetition in choreography. One of the most famous choreographers associated with this genre, Pina Bausch, has demonstrated that repetition has a dual property when juxtaposed with dark conceptually-based choreography. Initially, repetitive movement sequences help to emphasize the brutality of the story, but, after significant repetition, they become an anesthetic for disturbing material. This was especially apparent in the storyline focusing on a killer’s attack on a family in their home. In the choreography, the perpetrator continually performs a choking gesture, resulting in the demise of each of his victims. At first, this was brutally shocking, but after seeing it multiple times during the piece, it numbed the brutality without erasing it.

I love this company, mostly because I never know what to expect when I am seeing new material. So many dance companies are predictable and avoid taking risks in their repertory. Dance should be the opposite; it is all about experimentation and moving outside of your comfort zone. Bill T. Jones has understood this from the moment he began choreographing. With Chapel/Chapter the elusive innovator strikes again.

Epiphany Productions-Trolley Dances

Production of the performing arts involves both logistical planning and artistic content. When the goal is a free, outdoor, multi-site series, both of these become much more difficult. Logistically, the work must be adaptable to the outside, the audience has to be transported from one place to the next, and the necessary permits must be obtained. This year’s San Francisco Trolley Dances was a logistical victory; artistic director Kim Epifano effectively facilitated the 4^th annual performance series. The pieces worked in the outdoors, the audience arrived on time at each locale; the volunteer staff was incredibly professional and even the weather cooperated. Unfortunately, the artistic side told another story, plagued with issues of performance experience and visual obstructions.

Firstly, there was considerable inconsistency between the five dance companies who participated in Trolley Dances, in terms of the performers’ experience (or lack thereof). The first two groups, Run For Your Life!...it’s a dance company and Flyaway Productions showcased confident and proficient dancers who clearly understood the minutiae of staged performance as well as the relationship between the performer and the audience. These were consummate professionals. The third company, Paco Gomes and Dancers, did not rise to this established level of expertise. The choreography was not the issue; it was the communication and expression of the piece by the dancers. Unfortunately, their lack of performance experience was palpable. Performing outside is tough; noise, voices and activity can easily distract you. More seasoned performers can usually tune out this commotion, but this group hasn’t quite mastered that skill. Their technique was good, but they need a little more time and guidance to develop their stage presence. Gomes should exert more effort educating his dancers on the art of performance. Perhaps then his choreographic vision can be illuminated instead of being masked by the lack of stage presence exhibited by his dancers.

The final piece of the day also illustrated significant variance in the aptitude of the dancers, although not with respect to their stage presence, but in their technical maturity. Epiphany Productions/Sonic Dance Theater set a piece on dancer Robert Henry Johnson and the UC Berkeley Bay Area Repertory Dance Ensemble (BARD). First things first, the dancers from Berkeley are excellent but, individuals in this group are clearly at different points in their educational career, displaying various levels of movement maturity. Some of these UC dancers are new to college-level dance education. They are still at the point of transition between their ‘juvenile’ dance training and their adult pre-professional studies. This is not a bad thing, and is a necessary rite of passage. All young dancers go through this transition; they are learning. Learning how movement comes from within rather than peripherally; learning how to create positions and shapes without appearing posed; and learning how to be grounded, appreciating how the floor can change your movement quality. In contrast, other dancers in BARD are towards the end of their undergraduate education and have already transitioned into pre-professional dancers, with the critical, historical and physiological knowledge that has nurtured and changed their bodies and their movement. Epifano’s piece had all of the BARD dancers performing the same material. While that may have given cohesion to the piece, it also emphasized the vast technical disparities between the dancers in this company.

Secondly, two of the five pieces involved some traveling portions, where companies performed as the audience walked from one venue to another. The tap dancers executed a moving percussion sequence while steering the audience towards their next destination. As well, the final piece had a moving prologue in which the dancers led the audience from a starting point to the Duboce Park Labyrinth where the bulk of the piece would occur. It is clear that these moving sequences were an attempt to capitalize on the idea of non-traditional outdoor performance possibilities. But, at the same time, it is crucial in a presentational forum to remember that the audience still needs to see what is happening. Unless you were at the front of the group in both of these circumstances, it was impossible to see the performers until the transient section of their piece was completed. So, again, the beauty of the dance was camouflaged, this time by an inability to physically see the performers.

Trolley Dances provides a valued contribution to San Francisco performing arts. It exposes attendees, passers-by and the city itself to local dance companies, performing in several outside venues free of charge. However, there is an expectation of skill and proficiency with any organized performance series. Some of this year’s participants lived up to that expectation. For those who did not meet this goal, perhaps they can be inspired to look at the art of performance, so that it can match their technical ability. So much time is spent on technique and dancers often miss the chance to develop artistic sensibility. Performance is the sum of all of its parts, not just choreography and technical brilliance. Compositions that focus only on this are sanitized and empty; they are truly missing the heart of dance.

Joffrey Ballet-Zellerbach Hall

Years ago, I saw the Joffrey Ballet perform Billboards, a collection of choreography set to music by Prince. I can honestly say without pause or agenda that this was the most significant theater event of my life; so much so that it solidified my decision to pursue dance as a career. More than a decade has past since my introduction to this ballet, yet, the images and choreography remain seared into my memory. The difference between then and now is that then, as a relatively inexperienced young dancer, I could not pinpoint what had influenced me so deeply. I was overwhelmed by the performance but I did not know why. Now, I understand that it was not only Billboards that astonished me, but the entire Joffrey Ballet. I loved the piece, but it was the clarity of vision, tone and mood demonstrated by the company that produced such an intense and dramatic effect. The Joffrey Ballet has an amazing awareness of how the music, costumes, sets, casting, and choreography in each individual piece can work together to make sense. The audience is not left wondering what they should be feeling or what inferences they should be making; there can be an unfettered focus on dance and movement. The Joffrey’s recent offering at Zellerbach Hall included three pieces that illustrate this superb coherency. In Pas des Déesses, the audience was transported to a 19^th century artistic salon. Twyla Tharp’s Deuce Coupe took everyone on a trip to the beach. And finally, Sometimes it Snows in April navigated the road to heaven.

Robert Joffrey’s Pas des Déesses is based on an 1846 Romantic lithograph and began with four posed dancers replicating the picture, which then came to life onstage. There were several elements reminiscent of an artistic salon from the 1800s: the flowing sheer costumes, the flowery, delicate port de bras, and the intricate footwork-brisés, frappés, sissones, and entréchat quatres. These small quick movements reiterated that this ballet was intimate, made for a smaller audience, perhaps the poets, musicians and philosophers of the 19^th century. The choreography also situated the leg at all angles: just off the floor, at 45˚, and in full split penchée. These days, contemporary companies exploit the daring feat and stunning technical athleticism in ballet, and because of this, we forget the delicate beauty of a low leg in arabesque. Everything in this dance was elegant and subtle, working towards the vision of Romanticism. The promise offered by the opening vignette was realized through a commitment to clarity, making the subject of the piece readily apparent.

Twyla Tharp’s Deuce Coupe has an extremely important place in dance history as the first ‘fusion’ or ‘cross-over’ ballet, where classical and modern choreography were mixed together with popular music (The Beach Boys). Today this type of ballet is pervasive; every company mixes different genres and music but, in 1973, critics were not sure that this would work or whether it was even possible. Tharp proved that the way to accomplish this was not only through the music, sets and costuming, but also by using a common thread present in both the traditional and contemporary portions of the piece. In Deuce Coupe, this shared element is control. This theme is introduced by a classical female dancer who appears throughout the piece as the ‘symbol’ of the traditional school, performing academic ballet exercises. As the modern dance sequences began, and were juxtaposed against this conventional movement, it was clear that they too came from the same place of control and intentionality. In the modern choreography, this was evident in the constant direction changes and tempo fluctuations. It is practically impossible to be moving at top speed and then completely freeze unless you are in absolute control of your movement. In the same manner, a dancer cannot be running in one direction and then immediately shift the other way if she does not have command over her body. By linking the different dance genres together using this common denominator of control, this piece again illustrated a repertory committed to a collective vision.

Sometimes it Snows in April is an excerpt from the larger work Billboards and represents the emotional duality that occurs on the road to heaven. The piece began with the sorrow that accompanies death. As dancers stood next to each other under dim lights, tenderly leaning their heads together, it was a scene of heartbreak. During this, the lyrics of the music talk about mourning the loss of a friend. This is the pain of death. A drastic change followed as the trail moved away from death and towards the jubilant reception of heaven. The movement became joyous, exuberant and enthusiastic with an intense diagonal sequence of Russian split leaps and grand jètés where the dancers’ joy of the movement soared. The lights became suddenly bright, revealing the sparkling white and silver costumes of the angels above. Again, every element of the piece fit into this journey from severe grief to unbridled excitement.

The performance of Billboards has stayed with me for years while many others faded away as soon as the curtain went down. I can even still remember portions of the choreography; exact steps that were done on one evening many years ago. There is really only one explanation for this and that is the profound clarity of the work by the Joffrey Ballet which was still evident last week at Zellerbach Hall.