Thursday, August 06, 2020

"Ground Effect"

John Speed Orr and Terez Dean Orr in
Ground Effect

Possibility. Freedom. Joy. We all could use more of these three themes right now. And one place to find them reflected is in the San Francisco short dance film scene. This month saw the premiere of a fantastic new film that reminds the viewer what is possible, what is freeing and what is joyful.

On August 4th, Terez Dean Orr, John Speed Orr and Elliott Bastien Morin released their third film created with camera phones and virtual platforms during shelter-in-place (read my May CriticalDance interview with the trio https://criticaldance.org/cooking-up-some-art-in-san-francisco/). While the earlier two pieces center around their home and neighborhood, Ground Effect finds T. Dean Orr and J. Speed Orr (current Smuin Contemporary Ballet artist and former company member respectively) traversing the highway and dancing in picturesque outdoor environments. The three and a half minute journey affords viewers the opportunity to see where these two individuals, introduced in previous films Shelter in Pace and Recipe for Disaster, are as we near 150 days of isolation. It is open and hopeful – conceptually and choreographically.

Terez Dean Orr and John Speed Orr in
Ground Effect
Ground Effect
’s visual landscape conveys such an evocative, genuine tone through its many layers and textures. Loose earth and the winding roadway; flower arrangements and lilting grass; the wind weaving through the dancers’ hair – every element combines to produce an atmosphere of freshness and newness. Egalitarianism is also undeniable throughout. Driving in a car and curiously peering out the window, nodding off in the backseat, pulling over to the side to check out the view – these are states we can all relate to. Black and white footage makes Ground Effect clean and cool, as does its amazing angles and shots. I am so curious as to how they captured the stunning, shadowy aerial views.   

Equally elegant from a choreographic standpoint, Ground Effect’s physical syntax is all about forward motion and freeing energy. Running lunge steps abound while swirling partnered spins pepper the phrases. Elastic arabesques meet outstretched arms and expansive solarplexus. And some motions and sequences have an inventive avian-inspiration, like the two dancers could float and fly away like graceful, soaring birds. Such buoyancy and levity are indeed a necessity for 2020.

Check out Ground Effect at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHc4bUsEZ88

Wednesday, July 29, 2020

Summer Book Corner - Selection #1

Stripped Down: How Burlesque Led Me Home
by Anna Brooke
published by The Unapologetic Voice House

I have to admit that my exposure to Burlesque thus far has been limited. A few movies, both classic and contemporary. A choreographic piece here and there that takes its inspiration from the dynamic artform. But really, that’s it. After reading Anna Brooke’s new book, Stripped Down: How Burlesque Led Me Home available from The Unapologetic Voice House, I hope to change that. Not only does Stripped Down relay a beautiful journey of discovery, expression, freedom and healing, but it inspires the reader to want to find that for themselves.

My favorite thing about Stripped Down is how it continuously upended my assumptions. Going in, I thought that the book was going to be an autobiographical account of a particular moment in Brooke’s life. One filled with disappointing and heartbreaking circumstances and how those difficult events eventually led her to find Burlesque. That thread was definitely present, especially in the introduction. And then, it was followed by a first chapter that provided important historical context about Burlesque and outlined its lineage, including nods to its ancestors. It talked about community kinship and how Burlesque is inherently tied to feminism and activism. I was gearing up for a certain path, but I should remember that good stories and good storytelling is never linear.

Stripped Down’s middle chapters take a decidedly and deeply philosophical turn, helping the reader understand that Brooke’s journey was far more than a singular set of circumstances, nor a specific period of time. It was fueled by the world around her throughout her entire life - ecosystems of divisiveness and unjust hierarchies; issues of gender, corporeal expectation and perfectionism. This was a journey of layers, textures and scope and Brooke communicated it in vulnerable, raw prose. And while I occasionally felt that the material could be a tad repetitive from time to time, this middle section also had an impressive outward energy and conversational approach. Its mild prescriptive tone (not at all heavy-handed) challenged the reader to consider, contemplate and examine their own inner self. That duality of Brooke’s internal personal story and the external audience engagement was special, making it a unique contribution to the memoir field.

Burlesque was certainly referenced in these middle chapters, though it factors more heavily in the discussion as one reaches the last portion of the book. Brooke shares its empowering, healing and revolutionary nature while at the same time acknowledging that it doesn’t speak to everyone. That balance was well done. And as we come to the very end of Stripped Down, I think the primary message (though informed by many other facets and themes) is one of self-acceptance. A message that needs to be heard.