“(re)DEVELOP (death valley)” at The Chocolate Factory
February 28, 2009
photo by Paula Court
On Thursday evening, I joined members of the Performance Club at the Chocolate Factory in Long Island City to see “(re)DEVELOP (death valley)”, a video and performance installation created by Brian Rogers, the theater’s co-founder and artistic director. I’ll share some thoughts here, but I’d like to direct everyone to the discussion going on at the Performance Club blog, which is maintained by the club’s fearless leader, Claudia La Rocco. Although we discussed the work at a post-performance gathering, several other people and I have shared opinions in the comments section of Claudia’s post. In fact, Brian Rogers even threw in his two cents.
“(re)DEVELOP” stems from an interest in gentrification and Rogers’ own experience living and working in Long Island City. The piece does not follow a narrative, but rather weaves together real-time video projections, spoken word, subtle movement, and found footage of ghost towns that address the idea of space – abandoned or inhabited, shared or independent, physical or emotional. Suspended, movable plastic panels separate the audience from the four performers while also serving as projection screens. They provide a layered, multidimensional feeling to the intimate space that often forces the audience to peer through the panels in order to see the performers. Although initially outsiders, the audience is more welcomed as the panels are gradually removed.
Jumbles of spoken word, ever-so-slight movement, and screeching sounds – either from the moving panels or the haunting sound design by Rogers and Chris Peck – accumulate throughout the piece, often challenging the audience to decipher who is speaking or moving. Nothing feels permanent. The space and its inhabitants are constantly changing, and the piece itself wanders a bit as it shows this ongoing transformation. Yet certain moments stand out: Sheila Lewandowski stands between two panels while repeating a delicate hand gesture, as if she were stroking a child’s head. It is mesmerizing. In the closing scene, the four performers sit down around a table for a pasta dinner. Here, Rogers has created a sensory experience – the aroma of garlic and tomato sauce, the site of steam rising from a pot, and the pleasant murmur from the performers as Rogers sings and plays guitar all contribute to the feeling of home. But the meal is broken up by a leaky roof, emphasizing the link between house and home. When the physical structure fails, the community within suffers. Physical and emotional spaces go hand in hand.
Check out the discussion at the Performance Club blog, and feel free to add your voice. The club has upcoming events in March and is open to anyone and everyone. Learn more about it at Claudia’s blog.
Nicolas Le Riche: A Photographic Study
February 26, 2009
Nicolas Le Riche, photo by Anne Deniau
This past December, French photographer and filmmaker Anne Deniau (also known as Ann Ray) published Nicolas Le Riche, a major collaborative work that has resulted in over 400 photographs. The book will be released in the US next month. For nearly six years, Deniau worked with Le Riche, an étoile with the Paris Opera Ballet since 1993, photographing him in Paris, New York, Tokyo, and London. The book is striking for its depth and honesty. Hardly any of the photographs are posed, and Le Riche seems at ease in front of the lens, perhaps even unaware that he is being photographed. In nearly all black and white photographs, Deniau has captured Le Riche as both a dedicated dancer and an everyman.
Split into two halves with different cover images, one side is called Nicolas, which according to Deniau reveals “the intense and secret moments”. Le Riche can be seen locking arms with a fellow dancer during a rehearsal, practicing guitar on a stairway, smoking out of his apartment window, embracing a woman, and even scrutinizing his own dancing in a fully mirrored studio. His intensity, focus, self-awareness, and sweat are visible while working in a studio, but he appears relaxed and often meditative in other settings. When flipped upside down, the other half is Le Riche, which shows the performer – “the artist on stage in his major roles with all the violent tenderness that belongs to him.” These photographs reveal Le Riche’s vast repertoire – everything from Prince Siegfried to the Prodigal Son to a bare-chested and barefoot modern-day man. Here the viewer only sees fragments of developed characters. It is challenging to look at fixed images and decipher Le Riche’s connection to the characters, making them far less interesting than the more personal, candid images in Nicolas. Yet, the two halves compliment each other, portraying what is both private and public – Le Riche behind the scenes and Le Riche as the performer that audiences adore.
One must wonder why anyone would want to spend so many years photographing one dancer. And why publish such an immense book of just one man? (And at $95, only Le Riche’s most devoted fans, or people eager to enhance their collection of coffee table books, are likely to purchase it). Perhaps Le Riche is Deniau’s muse, but this book speaks to the trust that Le Riche and Deniau have built from working together over the past several years. There is little editorial comment, but an interesting discussion – translated from French – between the photographer and dancer divides the two sections. Deniau admits to Le Riche, “All these images are your trust, returned. In bits. Trust by the kilometer. It’s the only way I know how to work.” And earlier in the conversation, Le Riche confesses, “Doing, not talking, that’s what Rudolf Nureyev always said. And if I’d chosen to express myself through dance, not words? Out of sincerity, by nature. Then that would be my truth: dancing is my nature.”
Nicolas Le Riche, by Anne Deniau (Gourcuff Gradenigo/ACC Distribution, 354 pages, 311 black & white, 93 color photographs, Hardcover, $95.00, March 2009)
The Neta Dance Company: Air + Fold
February 24, 2009
In its 22nd season, The Neta Dance Company will premiere Air + Fold this Thursday at Danspace Project‘s DANCE: Access series, continuing through this Saturday. Fold, the company’s world premiere, is a multidisciplinary work inspired by origami operations that explore the possible meanings of folding and un-folding. Company founder Neta Pulvermacher said, “For me folding isn’t just about the amazing mathematical and architectural concepts that are behind origami designs, but rather what fascinates me is the realization that to fold something means to envision, to make, to take action, to interact with matter and to participate in an act of becoming”. The work features sets by architect Jeff Rosier and an original score played live by Israeli composer Alon Nechushtan.
Completing the program is Air, a majestic work for twelve women, set to Handel’s Dixit Dominus. Born of an atheist yearning for a vision of heaven unshackled by religious and historic conventions, Air derives its grace from the singular beauty of Handel’s score.
The Neta Dance Company was founded in 1986 by Juilliard graduate and Israel native Neta Pulvermacher. The company is known for pushing the boundaries of dance by merging movement, philosophy, science, music, intuition, narrative, and imagery to suggest new meanings and possibilities, creating a living, breathing theatrical space.
The Neta Dance Company: Air + Fold
February 26-28, 8:30 PM
Danspace Project, St. Marks Church
131 East 10th Street at Second Avene
Buy tickets online or call 866.811.4111
Arts Organizations are Businesses, Too
February 21, 2009
Michael Kaiser, photo by Nancy Ellison
Two weeks ago, I wrote about Arts in Crisis, the new initiative at the Kennedy Center that offers free advice to struggling performing arts organizations. In a recent Wall Street Journal article, William Triplett spoke with Michael Kaiser, president of the Kennedy Center, about the overwhelming response to the initiative. Having saved several struggling arts organizations since the 1980s, Kaiser is considered to be the leading arts manager in the country. His recent book, The Art of the Turnaround, should be required reading for anyone managing an arts organization. In a desperate attempt to slash costs, too many managers make the mistake of cutting programming and marketing, which is “the worst thing you can do”, according to Kaiser. Cutting in these areas leads to less visibility, less funding, and more financial problems.
In addition to stressing wise budget cuts (like eliminating $30,000 spent annually on coffee for staff!), Kaiser notes the need for better training for arts managers:
“There are a substantial number of organizations that are not well run or realistically run because very little investment is made in this country in training people to run arts organizations,” says Mr. Kaiser in a voice not much louder than gently running tap water. In his dark suit, white shirt and striped tie along with his graying hair, he could pass for a board member of General Motors.
“We spend disproportionate amounts to train artists – performers, choreographers, oboe players — and we spend almost nothing to train people who would employ them. So arts organizations always operate very close to the edge,” Mr. Kaiser notes. “But add the problems of the economy and a crisis becomes absolutely clear. I’ve never seen anything on this scale.”
An arts organization should be treated like a business because it is a business, but managers (who, in the case of dance companies, tend to be former dancers) often believe that their passion for the art form is enough to qualify them for the job. Passion certainly plays a role, but arts managers need to possess the same skills as the CEO of a major corporation in order to be effective leaders. Without these skills, they aren’t prepared for the job, and poor management choices are a disservice to the organization’s artistic goals, staff, the performers, and eventually, the public.
Aspen Santa Fe Ballet at the Joyce
February 20, 2009
Aspen Santa Fe Ballet has two homes – one in Colorado and one in New Mexico. In their current season at The Joyce Theater, something was left behind. The program, which includes three New York City premieres and William Forsythe’s Slingerland Pas de Deux, proves that the dancers (particularly the women, who were highlighted much more so than the men) are capable technicians, but artistry is significantly lacking. With the exception of Itzik Galili’s intriguing Chameleon, the evening showcases lean, athletic bodies moving at high speed without incorporating lyricism or emotion, or engaging the audience. The fourth wall stood firmly in place.
In Helen Pickett’s Petal, eight dancers rush in and out of the lush, brightly colored stage to music by Philip Glass and Thomas Montgomery Newman. Several duets and solos look fairly similar, with flailing limbs and lightning-speed turns. The dancing is aggressive, but the dancers are unconvincing. All are trapped within themselves, neither relating to each other nor to the audience. More expressive dancing surely would have enhanced the uplifting mood that the lighting design and music contribute to the piece.
Lack of emotion is even more apparent in Jorma Elo’s 1st Flash, an odd choice to close the program. From this and several of his other works, it is clear that Elo relies too heavily on the wow factor, often including chaotic movement, manipulative partnering, and many gesturing arms. This can only carry a piece – and an audience – so far, especially when the choreography and music, by Jean Sibelius, aren’t integrated. It seems as if Elo creates movement before even choosing music, and then feels compelled to cram as much of it into the score as possible. In fact, several sections of the piece are performed in silence, suggesting an overflow of movement that even the sweeping score cannot contain.
Contrasting with Elo’s messy whirlwind is Forsythe’s Slingerland Pas de Deux to music by Gavin Bryars. The pure movement is set within a mysterious world that forces the audience to look closely for the dancers’ every move. On Wednesday’s performance, Sam Chittenden and Katherine Eberle were a bit too sharp and jerky, not presenting the fluidity that the movement calls for. Nevertheless, their poise and precision were commendable.
The most distinct piece on the program is Itzik Galili’s Chameleon, which provides an in-depth emotional exploration that is lacking from the other pieces. Five women sit in bright green chairs at the front of the stage, morphing from proper and pretty to absurd and annoyed. Their abrupt emotional shifts, shown through a variety of gestures and mime, reflect the moodiness of John Cage’s “In a Landscape”. One couldn’t help but feel badly for the women, with all their insecurities and desperate attempts at catching someone’s attention. Galili successfully draws out a personal side of each dancer.
Aspen Santa Fe’s dancers deserve praise for their technically polished performances, but they also deserve more multi-faceted choreography that will provide them with opportunities to develop as well-rounded artists.
