Another Year, Another Wrap-Up
December 23, 2009
Batsheva Dance Company in Ohad Naharin’s MAX, photo by Gadi Dagon
It has been an eventful year for dance, and at times, a sad one. We lost Merce Cunningham, Pina Bausch, and Michael Jackson, many companies folded or laid off dancers due to financial troubles, and individuals everywhere involved in the arts – as writers, managers, choreographers, directors, you name it – are scratching their heads and having conversations about how to do more with less. But there were also some new, thriving initiatives, like the Performance Club (which just celebrated its one-year anniversary), Arts in Crisis, and FEAST, which will continue into 2010 and undoubtedly grow stronger. And of course, there were many great performances over the past year that have kept me optimistic and confident that even during the most challenging times, talented artists are creating exciting work. Here are some highlights from 2009, with links to my full reviews.
Zoe Scofield and Juniper Shuey’s the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t at Dance Theater Workshop: A gorgeously harrowing piece that featured distorted balletic movement and a rich emotional history filled with convulsions, gasps, and haunting stares.
Dancers in Zoe Scofield and Juniper Shuey’s the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t, photo by Justine Avera
Emanuel Gat’s Winter Variations at Lincoln Center Festival: This duet for two men played with pauses and fluid motion within a deserted atmosphere that used light and dark to create personal and emotional boundaries. Their rhythmic movement to The Beatles’ “Day in the Life” is unforgettable.
Neal Medlyn in Why Won’t You Let Me Be Great!!!, photo by Zack Brown
Why Won’t You Let Me Be Great!!! at PS 122, conceived by Brendan Kennedy and presented by Neal Medlyn and CATCH: This evening-length show was inspired by Kanye West’s album 808s and Heartbreak, and featured a handful of downtown performing artists who engaged with his songs to convey loneliness, sex, and masculine power, among other themes. Some of the performers even got attention from – or confronted – Kanye West when he attended.
Steve Reich Interpreted Through Dance at the Guggenheim’s Works & Process: Larry Keigwin and Peter Quanz both choreographed works to Reich’s Double Sextet. The results were excellent, albeit remarkably different, and both made use of the Guggenheim’s unique performance space.
Dancers in Larry Keigwin’s Sidewalk, photo by Richard Termine
Batsheva Dance Company’s MAX at Brooklyn Academy of Music: Ohad Naharin’s piece for ten dancers layered movement, sound, and lighting to create a heavily structured, non-theatrical work. Naharin’s chanting, in what sounded like gibberish, was a powerful guide throughout the work.
Rachel Maddow’s PillowTalk at Jacob’s Pillow: Sadly, I did not attend this, but a detailed press release left me wishing I had made the trip to Becket, Massachusetts. Maddow’s speech on arts advocacy and the importance of arts education is itself a work of art. An excerpt is below. Thank you, Rachel!
“Not just in wartime but especially in wartime, and not just in hard economic times but especially in hard economic times, the arts get dismissed as ‘sissy’. Dance gets dismissed as craft, creativity gets dismissed as inessential, to the detriment of our country. And so when we fight for dance, when we buy art that’s made by living American artists, when we say that even when you cut education to the bone, you do not cut arts and music education, because arts and music education IS bone, it is structural, it is essential; you are, in [Jacob’s Pillow founder] Ted Shawn’s words, you are preserving the way of life that we are supposedly fighting for and it’s worth being proud of.”
Gallim Dance in Andrea Miller’s Blush, photo by Christopher Duggan
Gallim Dance’s Blush at the Joyce Soho: The three women and three men in this work, choreographed by Andrea Miller, showed raw, intensely physical movement set within an emotional climate that shifted from dangerously cold to achingly tender and warm.
Merce Cunningham Dance Company’s Event at Rockefeller Park: Performed one week after Cunningham’s death at the age of ninety, this site-specific work was a beautiful farewell overflowing with intriguing contrasts and nuances.
Merce Cunningham Dance Company in Event at Rockefeller Park, photo by Julieta Cervantes
Ernesto Neto’s anthropodino at the Park Avenue Armory: There was no performance here, but the interactive installation provided a sensual playground that made it easy to watch people of all ages take in the sights, sounds, smells (1650 pounds of spices were used), and textures of Neto’s massive creation.
ad hoc Ballet’s HER at the Joyce Soho: Deborah Lohse’s work explored female intimacy, aggression, and desire, and the two main women beautifully captured the complexities of their conflicting characters. Their cruelty and vulnerability felt honest and powerful in the Joyce Soho’s intimate space.
Cedar Lake dancers at the Chelsea Art Museum, photo by Kokyat
Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet’s installation at the Chelsea Art Museum: Photographs, sculptures, and paintings by the fifty-six Iranian artists featured in “Iran Inside Out” set the tone for this compelling piece, which echoed the exhibit’s themes of war, sexuality, politics, and the quest for freedom of expression.
The Dia: Beacon: I didn’t see a performance when I visited the museum in October (although there have been many performances there in the past, including a series by Cunningham), but I still highly recommend a trip to the Dia. Richard Serra’s earthy sculptures are extraordinary.
Richard Serra’s Torqued Ellipse II, photo by Evan Namerow
Dance for the Climate
December 21, 2009
In spite of the disappointing outcome at the climate talks in Copenhagen, the below video is inspiring. Over 10,000 people gathered on a beach in Belgium this past August to literally create movement in support of an international climate change agreement. Visit Dance for the Climate to learn more.
Bodies Converse in The Good Dance
December 18, 2009
Dancers in "The Good Dance - dakar/brooklyn", photo by Antoine Tempé
The Torah, the Bible, and the Koran are Good Books in the West. But since earth-based, African traditions turn to the body as a moral and spiritual guide, choreographer Reggie Wilson wonders if there can be a Good Dance. Dancers from his Fist & Heel Performance Group and Andréya Ouamba’s Senegal-based Compagnie 1er Temps use their bodies to try and write one. The Good Dance – dakar/brooklyn, which opened at the Brooklyn Academy of Music on Wednesday evening, is a cross-cultural exploration of the choreographers’ relationship to one another, their distinct backgrounds (Wilson grew up in Milwaukee after his family migrated from the Mississippi Delta, while Ouamba is Congolese), the rich histories and cultures of the Mississippi Delta and the Congo River, and the use of the body as a moral compass instead of text. Literal and more subtle expressions of these themes combine to create a work that is vivid and strong, yet still evolving and uncertain of its journey.
Moving through a sea of plastic bottles partly filled with water – symbolizing a natural resource trapped within a manufactured vessel and disconnected from its roots – the eight dancers blended Wilson’s structural style with Ouamba’s improvisational approach to convey rhythms that range from a propulsive, driving energy to a sleepier, meditative stretch. Musical choices including Aretha Franklin, Robert Belfour, and Franco & Le Tpok Jazz enhanced the ebb and flow of the piece’s pace. Whether performing in solos, duets, or as an ensemble, the dancers erupted with fluid, sensual movement that attempted to push beyond the boundaries of the water bottles. Sometimes they threw their bodies into a pile and successfully pushed the bottles into a corner, while in other instances, they laid still amidst the sparkling mess, or watched from the sidelines as others navigated these uncertain waters. Literal interpretations and metaphors abound.
The gorgeous lighting design by Jonathan Belcher and Carrie Wood shifted between shadows and yellow or red light, creating a sense of time passing, or migration to a new place. Indeed, the dancers brought the audience along on their journey, but it isn’t over. These bodies are still writing. It seems that Wilson and Ouamba’s exploration of their backgrounds, the Mississippi and the Congo, and the body is ongoing, and perhaps The Good Dance evolves as well. Like any good book, you can return to a good dance, find something new and marvelous, and see where it takes you.
The Good Dance – dakar/brooklyn will be performed again tonight and Saturday at 7:30 PM at the Brooklyn Academy of Music.
For the Love of Feet
December 15, 2009
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about feet. A few weeks ago I officially started training for the NYC Half Marathon, and whether I’m pounding the pavement, warming up, or stretching, I am continually grateful for my feet’s ability to meet the demands of my training schedule. The only other times when I think about my feet this obsessively is in a dance class, regardless of the footwear or genre. Running and dancing might seem entirely different, but the training has been more similar than I had anticipated. I’m learning about which parts of the foot strike the floor, the tilt in my body depending on the terrain, breathing techniques, and how my arm swings determine what my legs are doing. Shifting from dancing to running – and trading point shoes for sneakers – has made me aware not only of the distinct technique and rigors that athletes of every type endure, but also of the body’s versatility, and especially the adaptability of the feet.
Much to my delight, Alastair Macaulay has been thinking about feet, too. He recently wrote about the beauty of feet and the importance of footwork in dance. He even singled out certain dancers and choreographers who have excelled at highlighting footwork. I was particularly interested in his thoughts on performing artists who incorporate natural footwork – walking, running, skipping, and hopping – into their movement. There is little choreography in running and not nearly as much variety in the foot’s movement as there is in dance, but I definitely enjoy the rhythmic qualities of running (and the cathartic high I get from both running and dancing). The strike of my feet on the pavement combined with the pace of my breathing creates a soundtrack that changes throughout the course of my run, reminding me of the rhythmic qualities of dancing – either to music or to an internal rhythm. So, after years of dancing, it turns out that running doesn’t feel so foreign to my body. The technique and training are different from what I experience in dance, but it’s still the same feet. Whether I’m dancing or running, I’ll keep in mind what Isadora Duncan said: “I believe in the religion of the beauty of the human foot.”
Rail Writing
December 13, 2009
I recently started writing for The Brooklyn Rail, an arts, culture, and politics publication that began in 1998 as a pamphlet distributed on the L train. Since then, the Rail has expanded and is now online and available around Manhattan and Brooklyn. The dance section in the current December-January issue is filled with nine fabulous articles. I reviewed last month’s 75th Anniversary Gala of the 92nd Street Y Harkness Dance Center. Check it out!
Live Arts Audiences Decline as Online Audiences Grow
December 10, 2009
Today, the Los Angeles Times culture blog shared some unfortunate findings from a National Endowment for the Arts report: the number of American adults attending arts and cultural events has sunk to its lowest level since 1982. The economic climate is certainly one reason for the decrease, which might explain why adults are attending performances – museum shows, classical music concerts, opera, ballet, theater and jazz concerts – less frequently now than in 2002. Meanwhile, The Washington Post reported that audiences are increasingly relying on new media and the Web to appreciate the arts, according to an NEA survey that polled 18,000 adults. That is, “the mode of delivery is rapidly changing.” Here’s an excerpt from the article:
“It sends a message to us that technology is increasing access to the arts, not only to artmaking, but also arts participation,” said Joan Shigekawa, NEA’s senior deputy chairman. “Now you are no longer geographically bound to see a live performance. Also, there is something about this technology that emboldens people to express themselves.”
Should we celebrate what technology has done for access to the arts, or mourn the impact that technology has had on live audiences? Is sitting alone at home in front of a computer screen while watching a dance performance really the same as experiencing the same performance in a theater with other audience members? Does it matter? What do you think?
Science and Art Mingle in Diagnosis of a Faun
December 5, 2009
Gregg Mozgala, the title character of Diagnosis of a Faun
The characters in Tamar Rogoff’s Diagnosis of a Faun, which premiered on Thursday evening at La MaMa Annex, were transported to unfamiliar worlds where they struggled to heal and understand their bodies in two very different ways: through science and art. Rogoff’s cast – two professionally trained dancers, a doctor, and an actor who has cerebral palsy – was equally challenged, as she required them to physically move beyond their comfort zones. The piece is memorable not only because of the opportunity to watch an actor with cerebral palsy, Gregg Mozgala, move so beautifully and fluidly as the Faun, but also because of the creative way in which the piece conveyed the medical and emotional healing process.
Moving between a mythical forest and a hospital, Diagnosis of a Faun told the story of an injured professional ballet dancer (Lucie Baker) whose career depends on the surgery she must undergo at the hospital, and the story of a 5000-year-old Faun that also lands in the hospital, where he draws the attention and fascination of doctors. Frequent narration from “Dr. A” (Dr. Don Kollisch) and “Dr. B” (Emily Pope-Blackman, a dancer) provided the audience with in-depth scientific explanations of the dancer’s injury and the faun’s unique way of moving, while solos and duets that were alternately poignant and funny revealed the emotional struggles of the dancer and faun. When the scientific and artistic portrayals overlapped, they resulted in a painful or humorous outcome. As Dr. A attempted to examine the dancer’s Achilles tendon and articulate the surgical procedure, she developed her leg to the side and did combinations as if she were at a ballet barre taking class. And when Dr. B explained the faun’s condition, the faun simply let out a noise that sounded like a moaning lamb. In both instances, the characters were unaware of the other’s way of addressing an injury.
Emily Pope-Blackman and Gregg Mozgala in rehearsal, photo by Andrea Mohin
The mingling of scientific and artistic mindsets, frequently conveyed through partnering, was most powerful. A stunning duet for Pope-Blackman and Mozgala set within the forest allowed for a role reversal where the faun examined Dr. B. Her initial discomfort with the situation and her surroundings turned to overwhelming pleasure. Back in the hospital, in a dramatic scene that magnified the dancer’s face and utilized the sound of a heartbeat for added suspense, Dr. A successfully operated on the dancer. The two performed a celebratory pas de deux from Sleeping Beauty. Hesitant in his new role on stage, the doctor took verbal direction from the happily healed dancer.
Inevitably, the dancer and faun – the two artists – encountered one another in the forest, where she learned how to move like him (by now, she had shed her pointe shoes and white tutu). Mozgala and Baker’s lush movement included weight shifts, hunched torsos, and animalistic entanglements that were an abrupt change from Baker’s balletic quality seen earlier in the piece. Sadly, she returned to her world, leaving the faun in solitude once again, only able to remember the dancer by her lingering scent. As the piece echoed Nijinsky’s 1912 Afternoon of a Faun, it also suggested the limitations of a science-meets-art encounter. That is, with the healing process complete, scientific and artistic minds returned to what they knew best. The doctor preferred the operating table to the stage, while the dancer preferred the stage to the operating table.
Diagnosis of a Faun continues at La MaMa on Thursdays through Sundays until December 20th. 66 East 4th Street between 2nd Avenue and The Bowery.
Ohad Naharin’s Advice to Critics
December 2, 2009
Dance Magazine has posted Ohad Naharin’s acceptance speech at the November 9th Dance Magazine Awards. Instead of offering thanks, he shared some advice for critics that is both insightful and humorous. And how interesting to hear a dancer and choreographer offer some guidelines for the writers. I doubt that there are any critics who follow all of Naharin’s suggestions (I certainly don’t), but these are still good to keep in mind, especially the idea of watching dance with your eyes out of focus.
• Go see dance shows that you don’t have to write about.
• Don’t let a point of reference prevent you from having a moment of a fresh new experience.
• Connect to physical pleasures of life.
• Remember that there are always people in the audience who are at least as smart as you are (and it says here, “especially if you are from England”).
• Never, never, write during the show, unless it is the likes of a fashion show, mime show, ice skating or a beauty contest.
• You don’t have to understand the work you are watching. The creator most likely doesn’t care to be understood; he/she just wants to be loved.
• Remember, if you can describe what you are watching you are probably watching bad choreography.
• If you didn’t change your mind lately, you are probably wrong (again it says, “especially if you are from England”).
• Dance yourself a few minutes every day, until you sweat and/or you are experiencing a burning sensation some where in your flesh.
• Watch stuff with your eyes going out of focus; you will see more and miss less.
• While watching a dance, don’t look for national, geographic connotations. Anyway it’s almost never there.
Going Gaga in Israel, Part Two
November 27, 2009
Batsheva Dance Company’s studios at the Suzanne Dellal Centre
Last Friday morning, I returned to Tel Aviv’s Suzanne Dellal Centre for Dance and Theatre to take my second Gaga class. After reawakening my body in Thursday evening’s class and getting a good night of sleep, I was eager for more Gaga. About thirty other people and I entered the top floor of Batsheva’s studios for our class with Yaara, a former dancer with Batsheva Dance Company who started her own company last year. The spacious studio was flooded with morning sunlight and had a fantastic view of the sea.
Yaara’s verbal instructions provided plenty of imagery that was useful for increasing awareness of the body’s dimensionality, dynamics, and movement in space. Her prompts included the following, many of which felt like continuations of the instructions from Thursday’s class: float; taste something good in your mouth; make circles with different parts of your body; imagine two snakes in your body – one running along the spine and the other through your arms; increase the gravity around you, as if you are moving through rubber; take a cold shower. Yaara also emphasized the importance of taking risks. While balancing on one foot, we were instructed to shift our weight in a variety of ways, knowing that it was okay to fall off balance.
Music throughout the class included techno and reggae, and during the final minutes of the class, when the momentum reached a high and then slowly descended, it was liberating to “move like liquid” to MIA’s “Paper Planes”. In Gaga, I realized that I was moving in a way that was entirely different – more honest and open, more connected to sensations – from how I would move if I were told to improvise in a non-Gaga environment. This is due, in part, to the mirror-free requirement for Gaga. When Wendy Perron interviewed Ohad Naharin – the creator of Gaga and artistic director of Batsheva – in the October 2006 issue of Dance Magazine, he said, “Abolish mirrors; break your mirrors in all studios. They spoil the soul and prevent you from getting in touch with the elements and multidimensional movements and abstract thinking, and knowing where you are at all times without looking at yourself. Dance is about sensations, not about an image of yourself”. It sounds right in print, but feels even more accurate while experiencing Gaga.
All photos by Evan Namerow
Going Gaga in Israel, Part One
November 24, 2009
The entrance to the Suzanne Dellal Centre for Dance and Theatre
Since first experiencing Gaga – the movement language created by Batsheva Dance Company’s artistic director Ohad Naharin – in early 2008, I have been yearning for more, and so has most of the dance world. When the Israel-based company performs abroad, they try to offer Gaga classes not only for dancers, but also for the general public. After all, Naharin developed Gaga after years of working with both dancers and non-dancers while also recovering from his own back injury. Batsheva trains daily in Gaga, and since 2001, open classes in several cities throughout Israel have been available to the public.
Fortunately, my recent trip to Israel gave me an opportunity to once again experience Gaga (in Hebrew, גאגא) – this time at the Suzanne Dellal Centre for Dance and Theatre in Tel Aviv. I could hardly contain my excitement as I approached the Centre and arrived at the studios. With a heartfelt todah raba – thank you – to Deborah Friedes Galili, a dance scholar and expert on Israeli contemporary dance, and Yossi Naharin (Ohad’s brother), who oversees Gaga classes, I was able to take two classes while in Israel, and therefore immerse myself in two unique, transformative experiences that are now a part of my growing understanding of Gaga and sense of self.
The first class took place last Thursday evening and was taught by Ohad – not Ohad Naharin, but another man named Ohad who has worked frequently with Batsheva. I was exhausted from my travels all over Israel in the days prior to the class, but I knew that one of the most essential guidelines for Gaga is listening to the body and becoming aware of its sensations, limitations, and abilities. Furthermore, maintaining connection to pleasure in movement is critical, especially while exerting effort. In my sleepy state, I knew it was acceptable – in fact, encouraged – to work at a pace that was best for me. The introductory Gaga sheet that I received before class also assured me that taking class while feeling tired wasn’t such a bad idea:
Gaga is a new way of gaining knowledge and self awareness through your body. Gaga is a new way for learning and strengthening your body, adding flexibility, stamina and agility while lightening the senses and imagination. Gaga raises awareness of physical weaknesses, awakens numb areas, exposes physical fixations and offers ways for their elimination. Gaga elevates instinctive motion, links conscious and subconscious movement. Gaga is an experience of freedom and pleasure. In a simple way, a pleasant place, comfortable close, accompanied by music, every person with himself and others.
Throughout the hour-long class, Ohad gave verbal instructions in Hebrew and English to me and the other fifteen participants in order to draw attention to our actions and increase awareness of how we were – or weren’t – moving. We started standing in silence, finding multi-dimensionality in the chest in order to breathe more freely while gently shifting our weight from one leg to the other. Some of the prompts and instructions included: finding quivers at the center of your body and allowing them to move outward to your limbs, back, neck, and even to your voice; melting into the floor and then moving as if you’re standing, but using the floor’s gravity; lifting your bones away from your flesh; sensing a cloud around your body while feeling the earth below your feet; imagining a pool of water in your stomach and a pole that connects your arms by running through your chest. Rather than each prompt replacing the previous one, Gaga layers one on top of the other, so the class is an accumulation of movement and sensations.
The home of Batsheva Dance Company’s studios
One of the most satisfying aspects of Gaga, for me, is the ability to move more honestly and openly, free from previous training, old habits, and technical do’s and don’ts (It’s also incredible to move in a judgment-free environment, since all mirrors are covered during Gaga classes). In the most exhilarating moments, I was able to move without exerting much effort or force, instead allowing the energy, quivers, and quakes pulsing through my body to guide me. Discovering movement that is based in pleasure and sensation does not abruptly end when the class does, but rather is part of an ongoing journey. As I left the studios on Thursday evening I felt awake, refreshed, in touch with my abilities, strengths, weaknesses, and limitations, and eager for my second Gaga class the following morning.
All photos by Evan Namerow
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