Emanuel Gat and Roy Assaf in "Winter Variations", photo by Justin Maxon
This past week, Emanuel Gat Dance performed a New York premiere and a North American premiere at the Rose Theater as part of the Lincoln Center Festival. Gat, the forty-year-old Israeli whose company is based in the south of France, uses striking lighting, pauses, and intelligent spatial awareness to convey meaning in two distinct works.
Winter Variations is an extension of the 2004 work Winter Voyage, both of which feature an ongoing artistic collaboration between Gat and Roy Assaf. To the opening sounds of an urban grind, the two stoic men take up the right side of a shadowy stage as their torsos undulate and limbs encircle their bodies. Although they occasionally perform the same movements and are clearly aware of each other’s presence, they hardly ever move in the same way at the same time, creating an intriguing doppelganger effect. As long pauses are interspersed with fluid motion, Gat and Assaf tangle and untangle their bodies while moving from right to left under a vertical strip of darkness. They play with rhythm and momentum to The Beatles’ “Day in the Life” before walking across the floor on their knees, separating and eventually coming together as the music shifts to an Egyptian song by Riad al Sunbati. The fifty-minute piece closes to a majestic score by Strauss as the dancers’ movement becomes more closely aligned and movement phrases from earlier in the piece reappear. Gat and Assaf move and look increasingly, remarkably alike.
Although there is an underlying sense of loneliness and tension between the men, Gat transcends gender politics and avoids relying on gestures or theatrics to convey emotion. Rather, Winter Variations suggests a duality most clearly through Gat’s lighting choices and use of space. Lighting, in fact, takes on a role of its own. The divide between light and dark – whether horizontal or vertical – creates personal and emotional boundaries. Additionally, partially obscured movement sparks curiosity, such as when the dancers take turns moving in the darkened upper half of the stage while the other is visible downstage. They shift back and forth, allowing the audience to watch the dancer in light while pondering what is being missed in the darkened part of the stage.
In its North American premiere, Silent Ballet featured eight dancers instead of the planned nine. Adjustments were so seamless that it was impossible to determine where the ninth dancer would have fit in. True to its title, the piece does not have a score, but the dancers’ heavy breathing and bodies slamming into the floor are clearly audible. The opening rapid chaos slowly morphs into an ordered ensemble. Clustered near the center of the stage, the dancers create poses like sculptures under shifting lighting, often pausing for long stretches of time until a dancer breaks away from the group. With no music or internal sense of rhythm among the dancers, the driving force for Silent Ballet is unclear. It looks like a movement study, and although it might be interesting to view from beginning to end as a rehearsal-to-stage process, the final product itself feels exclusive and uninspiring.
With its varied score, meaningful lighting, spatial sensitivity, and the gorgeous movement of Gat and Assaf, Winter Variations was the finer and more memorable work on the program.
The Spectacular High Line
July 16, 2009
A view from the High Line
If you haven’t yet explored the High Line, I strongly encourage you to head to Manhattan’s west side to see what all the hype is about. The High Line, which was a railway line for delivering cattle before reopening last month as a public park thanks to a decade of advocacy efforts, does not disappoint. Last night, plenty of people and I leisurely strolled along the elevated promenade while enjoying the gorgeous sunset over the Hudson River and New Jersey skyline. The integrated landscape (with more than 210 plant species), architectural design, abundant seating, relocated rails, and public art installation by Spencer Finch, combine to create a magical setting. Snippets of overheard conversation indicated that visitors (including me) were awestruck and grateful for this peaceful escape from the city streets, which somehow still feels very much a part of the city. The High Line is a truly magnificent addition to New York City and a model for exceptional urban design. I’m looking forward to the second and third phases of the project.
All photos by Evan Namerow
Michael Arthur’s Dancer Drawings
July 14, 2009
Michele Wiles and David Hallberg rehearsing Swan Lake, drawing by Michael Arthur
Happy Days, a New York Times blog about finding satisfaction during the economic downturn, recently featured a post by a professor-turned-freelance artist who spent last month drawing the dancers and staff of American Ballet Theatre (ABT) while they rehearsed for their spring season at the Met. Michael Arthur’s touching piece describes how he initially focused on his interest in drawing while coping with the loss of several loved ones. He wrote, “As the losses accumulated, I found that the very act of drawing raised my spirits. I decided that if drawing made me happy when there was no reason in the universe for me to be happy, I had better pay attention to that impulse.” After moving to New York to pursue his interest in art – and often being in the right place at the right time – he landed at ABT where he admittedly knew nothing about ballet, but recognized the sense of satisfaction and personal fulfillment that drawing brought him.
Arthur’s courageous, inspiring story is a powerful reminder to take risks, follow one’s passion, and be open to new possibilities. This should particularly resonate with aspiring artists, dancers, musicians, filmmakers, and actors who might be struggling during these troubling times. Check out Arthur’s piece and some of his drawings at Happy Days. You can also follow Arthur at his blog, Just Drawn That Way.
Herman Cornejo in rehearsal, drawing by Michael Arthur
Koresh Dance Company’s Public Secrets
July 11, 2009
Asya Zlatina, photo courtesy of Koresh Dance Company
Last Wednesday evening, Koresh Dance Company performed Israeli choreographer and artistic director Ronen Koresh’s evening-length Theater of Public Secrets as part of SummerDANZ at Dance Theater Workshop. Throughout twenty dramatically compelling vignettes that occur in the privacy of homes, eleven characters reveal their tormented souls and rocky relationships. Although the movement is nuanced and the dancers extraordinary technicians (and many are fine actors, as well), the root of the characters’ problems is never clear. Perhaps Koresh is serving up a message: regardless of the source of anguish, everyone suffers behind closed doors.
With assistance from superb lighting by Robb Andersen and a variety of home furnishings that make up the set, the dancers hardly take any time to establish their tense situations. In fact, the furniture often witnesses and contributes to the characters’ struggles. Seated around a dining table, Amanda Lenox and Asya Zlatina are two desperate housewives wavering between civility toward one another and animalistic urges to attack. Later, Melissa Rector dances with wild abandon to convey sexual and emotional torment as she scurries under the table, writhes over it, and flings herself to the floor. The table becomes a battleground during her provocative duet with Jae Hoon Lim as they portray an achingly depressing love-hate relationship. In a plush, scarlet-colored armchair, a giggling, glowing girl (Jessica Daley) seems to be remembering an enjoyable romantic encounter. But loneliness lurks beneath her squirming satisfaction. Perhaps most disturbing is Fang-Ju Chou Gant’s self-destructive fit in front of an oval, vintage mirror as she interchangeably admires and abhors her image.
Theater of Public Secrets isn’t all gloom and doom. A flighty woman, Alexis Viator, attempts to change her clothing behind a folding screen as she runs amok and tosses dresses and hats about the room. And on a park bench, she giddily plays footsie with a reserved man (Eric Bean, Jr.) who, after much exasperation, eventually reciprocates. These silly scenes only serve as comic relief, but Koresh’s humor is too forced to be funny and the rest of the performance is too emotionally draining to be so easily forgotten. An intermission also allows the audience to take a breath, but it interrupts the piece’s flow and breaks the tension that the dancers and lighting effectively establish in the first half.
There is no shortage of technically demanding, full-throttle dancing in the work (with a few too many hyperextensions) and the cast performs with wonderful sophistication and precision. At the heart of Theater of Public Secrets, however, are the private emotional battles that are rarely seen by the public eye. They are painful, honest, and reflective, and no amount of humor can weaken their indelible impact.
Gallim and Cedar Lake at Jacob’s Pillow
July 7, 2009
Gallim Dance in Blush, photo by Christopher Duggan
Two of New York City’s finest contemporary dance companies head to Massachusetts this week to perform at Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival.
Gallim Dance, founded in 2006, will perform artistic director Andrea Miller’s Blush, an episodic piece that investigates themes of intimacy, instability, fear, and tenderness through highly physical movement, delicate gestures, and a riveting climax. Blush features music by M.I.A., Radiohead, Joy Division, Wolf Parade, and Chopin. After seeing this work in January at the Joyce SoHo, I wrote, “The emotional impact of Blush leaves the audience as breathless and elated as the dancers.” Gallim will perform at the Doris Duke Theatre from July 8 through 12.
Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet will perform the world premiere of Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui’s Orbo Novo (New World), an evening-length work set to a live, original score by Polish composer Szymon Brzóska. In a Jacob’s Pillow press release, Cherkaoui commented, “The piece tackles issues of freedom, contamination, perspective, loneliness, and enlightenment.” The company will perform at the Ted Shawn Theatre from July 8 through 12. Here’s a behind-the-scenes look at Orbo Novo, with commentary by Cherkaoui.
