New Ballet in Yale’s “Prokofiev Rediscovered”
February 8, 2010
Adam Hendrickson, photo by Joe Anderson
Tonight at 8 PM, New York City Ballet soloist Adam Hendrickson’s newest ballet will premiere at the Yale School of Music’s program Prokofiev Rediscovered. The event will be streamed live from Yale, and also performed tomorrow night, February 9th, at Carnegie Hall’s Zankel Hall. Tickets are available online. Hendrickson’s ballet, commissioned by the Yale School of Music, is part of a program that will feature recently discovered Prokofiev work, all played by pianist and Prokofiev specialist Boris Berman. The ballet is set to Prokofiev’s 1939 Music for Athletic Exercises – a piece that has never been performed in New York – and features dancers Elysia Dawn, Colby Damon, and Matthew Renko, with costumes by NYCB principal Janie Taylor. Hendrickson’s last ballet was performed in 2008 as part of the New York City Ballet Dancers’ Choice event. He is also one of the dancers in the forthcoming premiere of Opus Jazz: The Film.
Dance Films at the Rubin Museum
February 7, 2010
A still shot from Dream On Me, Nadine Helstroffer and Mark Taylor
Last Wednesday evening, two dance films by director John Bush and French-born choreographer Nadine Helstroffer premiered at the Rubin Museum of Art. Absence Presence, a solo for Helstroffer commissioned by the museum and filmed on the gallery floor of the exhibit “Eternal Presence: Handprints and Footprints in Buddhist Art”, attempted to evoke spirituality and enlightenment through Tibetan paintings and spiraling, fluid movement. The heavily edited film featured close-up shots of the artwork that frequently faded to show Helstroffer on the gallery floor. Her otherworldly, slightly spacey expression and graceful presence were permanent fixtures in the film. It would have been interesting, and perhaps more powerful, to view this work live, as a site-specific piece in the museum. As a film, the dancer’s connection to the paintings and setting never fully came to fruition.
Dream On Me was even less successful. The overly glossy work journeyed through a variety of outdoor locations in New York City that highlighted contrasts between human-made structures and natural environments. A shifting ensemble of eight men and women danced on the rooftop of a building in midtown, on the shores of the Hudson, and through a snowy Central Park with The Gates art installation (2005) visible in the background. More often than not, the film looked like an instructional yoga video. The dancers dramatically posed on rocks in front of sparkling water, and at another point, three women frolicked around blossoming trees while wearing puffy pink dresses that were more appropriate for a three-year-old in a spring dance recital. Dream On Me came across as corny and insincere. The shift from one setting to the next was incoherent and meaningless.
The Rail is Here! For Real.
February 4, 2010
The February issue of The Brooklyn Rail is now online and in print. The dance section is packed with good stuff this month: Thom Donovan’s review of choreographer Miguel Gutierrez’s performance texts, Mary Love Hodges’ spotlight on The Tank, and Joey Lico’s review of Dancers Responding to AIDS’ Dance from the Heart: Men, among several others. I reviewed a performance from last month’s AMERICAN REALNESS festival, which included a showering of plastic bags, references to Lady Gaga, and the most elaborate dress made out of disposable coffee cups that I have ever seen. Enjoy!
LEVYdance: Everyone Intimate Alone Visibly
February 1, 2010
Benjamin Levy and Aline Wachsmuth in Everyone Intimate Alone Visibly, photo courtesy of LEVYdance
Technology has made constant communication possible, but how has it affected genuine human connections? Have status updates and profile information strengthened relationships or weakened them? The San Francisco-based company LEVYdance addressed these questions in artistic director Benjamin Levy’s Everyone Intimate Alone Visibly, an evening-length interactive installation presented over the weekend at Joyce SoHo. Using web cameras that captured movement in real time, sound, video projections, lighting, and audience participation, the richly textured piece shifted from group effort to solo act, intimacy to loneliness, private moment to an exposed one. Gripping performances by Levy and Aline Wachsmuth were accompanied by an audience that willingly engaged with them. Together, the dancers and audience created an environment pulsing with energy and emotional depth, and the superficiality that can interfere with it.
Before the piece began, the audience wandered hesitantly around the square space. Hanging from each of the four walls were screens that showed audience members’ shadows or projections of black and white static. Levy and Wachsmuth, dressed in neutral-colored street clothes, blended in with the audience when they first emerged from behind one of the screens. Bathed in squares of light or shadow and projections of ink spots, the dancers moved in a cause-and-effect manner: the slightest coiling of his wrist caused the undulation of her torso. Just as the audience became hyper-aware of their proximity to the dancers – eye contact, the sound of breathing, and the ability to witness their every move up-close was wonderfully possible – the wide-eyed dancers seemed to size up the strangers that had flooded the intimate space, which lent itself well to the piece’s immediacy. An icebreaker came in the form of a recorded voice that monotonously narrated factual information about the dancers – “Ben was born sometime between 1975 and 1985”, and “Aline has a lover, but it’s not Ben” – but the vague statements didn’t provide the level of detail that comes with an authentic connection to someone.
Benjamin Levy and Aline Wachsmuth, courtesy of LEVYdance
Another robotic voice provided instructions for the audience to assemble rows of chairs along the space’s perimeter. Once the audience satisfactorily completed the task and was instructed to sit down, a duet for Levy and Wachsmuth conveyed longing and intimacy. In a painfully sad section that left a lasting impression, Wachsmuth exited the stage, but a projection of her lying on the floor remained. Levy continued dancing with her projection, as if she were still fully present, suggesting a relationship rooted in false connection. Later, the audience witnessed his lonely, angst-filled solo in which his vigorous, flowing movement deftly echoed the multi-layered swooshing, whirring, and grinding electronics.
The community built from cooperatively assembling the chairs and sitting in a circle was abruptly reconfigured as the dancers lifted people out of their seats and moved the chairs so they faced one another. Soon after, they hastily stacked the chairs into several messy piles, leaving the audience on its feet and once again uncertain of its surroundings. This time, there was no guiding voice to provide comfort; just the audience and dancers, face to face in an unfamiliar space. The piece was near its conclusion, but how well did we truly know one another? Within a brief span of time, the dancers invited a group of strangers into their space, allowing them to witness and experience intimate moments along with group collaboration. Yet, as the dancers exited and the screens projected black and white static, loneliness replaced the intimacy and sense of community.
Many performance installations encourage audience participation but often end up with an awkward, not-so-interactive result in which the dancers and audience intentionally avoid one another. This was not the case with Everyone Intimate Alone Visibly. There was real, honest interaction among the dancers and audience in the form of eye contact, physical contact, and emotional contact. LEVYdance proved that an installation doesn’t require a massive space, a large ensemble, myriad costume changes, and special effects to be compelling. In fact, it was the intimacy of this work – combined with Levy and Wachsmuth’s fluid, rippling movement – that made it so powerful.
Damian Woetzel and Tiler Peck at the Guggenheim Museum, photo by Erin Baiano
Last Sunday evening, audience members of the intimate Peter B. Lewis Theater at the Guggenheim Museum learned and performed George Balanchine’s Serenade, with piano accompaniment by Cameron Grant. Well, that’s not entirely accurate, but former New York City Ballet principal dancer Damian Woetzel started this rare Works & Process event, called “The Art of Teaching: Participation & Perception”, by teaching everyone the ballet’s opening movements. It was the first of many examples of audience engagement, which was a focal point for Woetzel – coming from the world of performing – and Michael Sandel, a political philosopher, Harvard professor of government, and Rhodes Scholar whose widely popular undergraduate class “Justice” is now part of a public television series. By presenting their own areas of expertise in an interactive manner, Woetzel and Sandel explored the relationship between performing and teaching. How does a performer engage the audience? How is teaching a performing art? What does it mean for the audience to participate in a work of art? In addition to insight from Woetzel and Sandel, there were many opinions from audience members, who eagerly crossed the line from spectators to participants during the event.
Tiler Peck and Robert Fairchild in an excerpt from Jerome Robbins’ Afternoon of a Faun, photo by Erin Baiano
With assistance and input from current New York City Ballet principal dancers Tiler Peck, Robert Fairchild, and Joaquin De Luz, who performed excerpts from Balanchine’s Serenade and The Nutcracker and Jerome Robbins’ Other Dances, Afternoon of a Faun, and Fancy Free, Woetzel discussed the process of learning a role in a ballet and how the process evolves from studio to stage. Using Afternoon of a Faun as an example, he explained how the male character in that ballet is in a studio, dancing in front of a mirror and later with a woman. While that may be easy while rehearsing the ballet in a studio, it becomes challenging to engage the audience while performing the ballet on stage, yet still convey the intimacy of rehearsing alone in a studio (which is what the character is doing). According to both Woetzel and Fairchild, learning this role is slightly different for each dancer. After Fairchild, De Luz, and Woetzel portrayed the three sailors from Fancy Free, they discussed the character development that occurred as they performed. Fairchild said he felt like a guy from Kansas just arriving in NYC for the first time. The ballet is silent, so the dancers aim to convey their fictional stories to the audience through movement.
Sandel immediately sparked debate upon entering the stage by asking, “What is the relationship between justice and equality?” More specifically, he was interested in the audience’s opinions on taxing bonuses for bankers. After hearing from many lively participants, Sandel showed wealth disparities by sharing the average salary of a public school teacher and David Letterman, and the salaries of Chief Justice John Roberts and Judge Judy. The question seemed to be, what is the value of the contribution to society? And is it just for an entertainer to make drastically more money than a public servant?
Michael Sandel and Damian Woetzel, photo by Erin Baiano
Damian Woetzel and Tiler Peck in an excerpt from George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker, photo by Erin Baiano
While it might seem as though there was little in common between Sandel’s discussion of justice and equality and Woetzel’s ballet demonstrations, both served as models for audience engagement. And both were remarkably effective. Yet, they had a frank discussion about what to do when an audience isn’t engaged. Woetzel hoped that by learning a small excerpt from Serenade – blocking an imaginary sun with the right hand, bringing the hand to the head as if in pain, slowly opening the feet to first position and “becoming a dancer” – the audience was able to more deeply appreciate Tiler Peck’s polished performance. Jokingly, he added that when dancers perform, “We know when you cough”, which led to a conversation about how to reinvigorate a bored audience. How does one do that when performing in front of a darkened theater? Or when teaching a class of a few thousand? Sandel suggested that the shuffling of papers and even coughing, which he believes can be involuntary, are signs that he’s lost his audience and has to do something different to gain their attention. Woetzel pointed out that, while performing with NYCB, he was fortunate to have a few performances that transported him to another place, which hopefully meant that he transported the audience with him, as well. At other times, pausing to internalize the silence in the theater can indicate if the audience is engaged. Surely it takes a skilled performer to be able to interpret silence.
Works & Process at the Guggenheim should have more thought-provoking events like this one that are both physically and intellectually engaging. Who would have thought that a political philosopher and a former professional dancer would join forces to spark enthusiasm, participation, and vibrant debate?
Urban Bush Women, Uncensored
January 26, 2010
Samantha Spies, Bennalldra Williams, and Keisha Turner in Zollar: Uncensored, photo by Yi-Chun Wu
Bold, erotic, empowering, and fierce – these are a few of the words that defined Urban Bush Women’s performance on Saturday night at Dance Theater Workshop. The company, led by Jawole Willa Jo Zollar, kicked off their 25th anniversary season with Zollar: Uncensored, an evening-length piece that featured shorter works spanning from 1985 to 2004. The performance centered on erotic integrity, a theme that was considered too controversial by many arts presenters back in the 1980s, and was thus abandoned by Zollar. For the first time since then, Zollar’s company presented a seamless collage of uncensored work that left the audience laughing, crying, howling, hooting, clapping, and shaking to the company’s sensual rhythms.
A spoken excerpt from Bones and Ash (1995) guided the performance – “We came here for the dreams, and in the dreams we find ourselves” – and self-awareness and knowing took on different forms throughout the evening. Three dancers stared at their reflections in a mirror as they erupted into laughter, while in another excerpt the dancers and vocalists – four women who wove in and out of the performance – moaned individually and then collectively, expressing pleasure from cupcakes. They also celebrated their bodies as they shook and shimmied to “Shake What Your Mama Gave Ya”.
Paloma McGregor, photo by Yi-Chun Wu
While Zollar: Uncensored illustrated pride and pleasure, it also conveyed pain and torment. A woman broke free from inner torture and hurt by shedding her clothes and stilettos and cracking an egg over her heaving body while ominously revealing a knife. She was then joined by a group of women who dressed and comforted her. In a powerful excerpt from River Woman, Zollar walked hunched over across the stage with Samantha Speis, nude, mimicking her movement. With a strained voice and extending arms, Zollar told the story of a rape and physical abuse while Speis appeared as a victim and a crushed spirit, removed from her own tortured body.
A sense of community and sisterhood pulsed throughout the piece. When one woman fell, the others were there to help her rise up. Strength came from unity, and this was enhanced by costume choices (the dancers were usually dressed in uniform iridescent fabrics) and the interwoven performances of the dancers, vocalists, and on-stage percussionist Beverly Botsford. To further build community, the dancers invited audience members onstage at the conclusion of the performance for an improvisational dance session. It’s hard to believe that Zollar’s work was considered controversial only twenty-five years ago. Her messages and portrayals of eroticism and sensuality are direct, but in 2010, it’s clear that Zollar’s work should be celebrated, and free of censorship.
Defining Art
January 25, 2010
Seth Godin posted a definition of art on his blog this morning. I thought it was worth re-posting, especially in light of the powerful performances and lectures I attended over the weekend (full reviews coming soon).
My definition of art contains three elements:
- Art is made by a human being.
- Art is created to have an impact, to change someone else.
- Art is a gift. You can sell the souvenir, the canvas, the recording… but the idea itself is free, and the generosity is a critical part of making art.
By my definition, most art has nothing to do with oil paint or marble. Art is what we’re doing when we do our best work.
David Zambrano’s Soul Project
January 21, 2010
David Zambrano's "Soul Project", photo by Anja Hitzenberger
From tonight through Saturday at 8 PM, Danspace Project’s PLATFORM 2010: i get lost presents Soul Project, a dance piece conceived and directed by David Zambrano, a major figure in international contemporary dance. Soul Project is about the soul in all its manifestations: spiritual, abstract, musical, personal. Inspired by the depth and strength of American Soul singers like Aretha Franklin, Patty LaBelle, Tina Turner, and James Brown, Zambrano set a challenge to each member of his international cast to evoke movement and sound from within, using the evocative intensity of Soul music as inspiration. He creates a body language that is full, eloquent, and emotionally profound. Zambrano will perform with Edivaldo Ernesto, Nina Fajdiga, Milan Herich, Peter Jasko, Horacio Macuacua, and Hermes Malkotsis.
$18 tickets to Soul Project can be ordered online, by calling 866.811.4111, or in person at Danspace: 131 East 10th Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenues.
PLATFORMS 2010 is a series of guest curated platforms as part of a new initiative at Danspace. Choreographer and multi-media artist Ralph Lemon has curated the first platform, i get lost, which is an extension of Lemon’s research into trance, kinetic energy, and alternative states of consciousness in contemporary performance and dance contexts.
New York City Ballet’s Short Stories
January 19, 2010
Ashley Bouder in George Balanchine’s Firebird, photo by Paul Kolnik
New York City Ballet’s winter season includes many full-length narrative ballets, but on Saturday evening, the company performed a triple bill of short stories. Although the newest one, Firebird, premiered in 1949, the ballets told timeless stories: three sailors on shore leave in New York City, bickering over two women; the biblical story of the prodigal son who sins and begs for forgiveness; and a fairy tale in which a brave bird comes to the aid of a prince and his community. Not only have the stories endured, but so have the sets, costumes, and George Balanchine and Jerome Robbins’ choreography, which brought these simple stories to life.
There are no suitable words to describe Ashley Bouder’s performance in Firebird. The magic that she brought to the role in 2000 while still in the corps, when she stepped in at the last moment for an injured dancer, was still present. Flitting frantically to escape the prince’s hold, Bouder embodied the firebird’s vulnerability. Even slight gasps were audible as she yearned for release. Her beautifully arched back, sharp arm flaps, and knowing gaze – one that suggested that this little bird had been in harm’s way many times before – lent themselves perfectly to the role of the firebird. Yet, she was not only a victim, but also a heroine, for she rescued the prince (performed by Jonathan Stafford, who reflected the slight naiveté and clumsiness of a young hunter wandering alone in a forest) and princesses from the attack of fantastical creatures by offering one of her magical feathers to the prince. Marc Chagall’s shimmering sets and costumes emphasized the story’s mythical qualities while providing lush colors, and Stravinsky’s score – his first for a ballet – added depth and drama. A golden glow was cast on Bouder throughout much of her performance, but even without this enhancement, she was truly radiant.
Maria Kowroski in Balanchine's "Prodigal Son", with Damian Woetzel, photo by Paul Kolnik
The same cannot be said for Joaquin De Luz in the title role of Balanchine’s Prodigal Son. He lacked the youthful enthusiasm that this character requires, and appeared too contained and insincere in the ballet’s closing moments – when the prodigal son falls at his father’s feet and begs for forgiveness. Maria Kowroski drew upon the alluring sections of Prokofiev’s score to convey a seductive, deceptive Siren. She was shaky throughout some of the partnering with De Luz, but still managed to illustrate the Siren’s power over the prodigal son. Just as a pack of creatures enchanted the prince and princesses in Firebird, a freakish clan of bald, drunk men misled the son and his servants. Their stomping and menacing stares were nightmarish yet unforgettable.
In Jerome Robbins’ 1944 ballet Fancy Free, Tyler Angle, Robert Fairchild, and Daniel Ulbricht all had just the right combination of charm and cockiness to portray three sailors on shore leave in New York City. They managed to sweep two women (Tiler Peck and Georgina Pazcoguin) off their feet in one moment, and exasperate them with their immaturity and macho competitiveness in the next. Leonard Bernstein’s vivid, jazzy score provided many opportunities for suspended moments and textured footwork. The three men drew upon these occasions in their solos – especially Robert Fairchild in the hip-swiveling “samba solo” – as did Peck and Angle in their flowing duet. Ronald Bates’ lighting evoked the lazy, laid-back feeling that comes from summer heat, while Kermit Love’s costumes and Oliver Smith’s set designs contributed rich color to the work.
In the midst of a season filled with full-length classics – A Midsummer Night’s Dream just concluded, Romeo + Juliet is currently being performed, and The Sleeping Beauty is up next – it was thoroughly enjoyable to watch City Ballet perform three short story gems.
Daniel Ulbricht in Jerome Robbins’ Fancy Free, photo by Paul Kolnik
Haiti Still Needs Help
January 16, 2010
By now, we’ve heard about the success of texting to raise money for Haiti and the emergency funds created by many organizations to rapidly get aid to Port-au-Prince. The speed with which individuals, communities, and organizations mobilized is remarkable. Still, much more needs to be done. Although donating money while reading the headlines and trying not to wince at heartbreaking photographs all over the media might feel like an insignificant effort, the generosity of millions truly adds up. The NY Times has a useful blog post on how to contribute, which is a good starting point for making a donation.
Over the next few weeks and months, I’m sure the arts community in NYC and elsewhere will mobilize to create Haiti benefit concerts and other initiatives to help send emergency aid to Haiti. Artists for Peace and Justice has started Project Haiti, and through its Dance for Haiti initiative, Broadway Dance Center is donating registration fees from certain open classes to The Red Cross’s Haiti Relief Fund. Hopefully other open dance studios will start similar programs. On a larger scale, Lady Gaga announced that January 24th is “Gaga for Helping Haiti Day”. Proceeds from all merchandise purchased at LadyGaga.com on the 24th will go to Haiti earthquake relief, as well as tickets sales and merchandise purchased at her NYC concert that evening.
When a tragedy strikes, it’s inspiring to see artists and arts communities thinking more broadly about their work and how they can help. If you know of other arts initiatives to support Haiti, leave a comment below or email me about it.
