Cedar Lake Installation Photos
January 14, 2010
Here are a few more photos from Cedar Lake’s installation. You can also view some of Kokyat’s photographs on Oberon’s Grove.
Ana-Maria Lucaciu
Matthew Rich and Jon Bond
Acacia Schachte and Jason Kittelberger at the heads of the table
Nickemil Concepcion
Jubal Battisti
Ana-Maria Lucaciu
All photos by Evan Namerow
Cedar Lake’s Installation: More Than Meets the Eye
January 11, 2010
Cedar Lake dancers in Benoit Swan-Pouffer’s installation, photo by Evan Namerow
The delicate voice of a woman whispered, “There is more than you know”. Her words, which were part of Stefano Zazzera’s music compilation for Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet’s installation this past weekend, rang true throughout the work. The audience was encouraged (as they are with all of the company’s interactive installations) to move around Cedar Lake’s spacious theater, and as the dancers and environment also shifted – there were many costume, music, and lighting changes, along with atmospheric haze – it became impossible to view everything at once, creating the sensation of being in a constantly shifting gallery space. The result was a fragmented experience. This is not a criticism of artistic director Benoit Swan-Pouffer’s choreography (perhaps the work is coherent for him and the dancers when rehearsed without an audience), but rather a reality of the installation format. It is both thrilling and frustrating, forcing the audience to yearn to see more yet also find satisfaction in what they are able to absorb in the shifting space.
Jason Kittelberger
The fourteen dancers walked a fine line between civility and rage. In one instance, set to opera music, they stood motionless around a large table, and in the next their spines curled and limbs thrashed as they scurried below or onto the table. They grabbed at each other’s necks, climbed brick walls, and flashed maniacal grins with the help of a piece of plastic that looked like it only belonged in a dentist’s office. Male aggression pulsed throughout the work: the men had a menacing presence, while the women often appeared vulnerable and manipulated in male-female partnering (this seems to be increasingly common in contemporary ballet partnering), and only powerful or combative when facing other women. While the movement showed off the dancers’ athleticism, fluidity, and flexibility – Harumi Terayama, Jubal Battisti, Nickemil Concepcion, and Acacia Schachte stood out – it didn’t seem as important as the special effects that bring a sensational quality to Cedar Lake’s installations. Watching dancers dangle from the ceiling, crawl along the walls, and mysteriously emerge or disappear amidst strobe lights and haze is a treat for new audiences, but if not accompanied by any substantive movement or themes, it loses its effect. Nevertheless, the dancers effortlessly navigated their way around the crowds, and Jim French’s lighting design and Adam Larsen’s projections were commendable.
Harumi Terayama and Soojin Choi
Acacia Schachte
Since the installation format demands the audience to become interactive participants rather than passive, stationary viewers, there is an opportunity to engage with the dancers – not only with eye contact, but also with movement and touch. To intentionally or fearfully move away from the dancers as they approach is to diminish one of the most unique parts of the installation experience. Sadly, at least on Saturday evening, it seemed to be the rule and not the exception, which suggests that there still exists an invisible barrier between the dancers and audience. This is a pity, because the brief interaction I shared with Oscar Ramos was poignant and memorable; it was also calming after the rush of movement that had occurred moments before. And it was a reminder that the dancers are not zoo animals on display or gods and goddesses at which to marvel, but rather human beings. One can only hope that the dancers, too, appreciate the chance to interact with audience members because it adds unpredictability to their performances.
It was strangely satisfying yet bewildering to experience the myriad atmospheric transformations that occurred throughout the installation. Moreover, not fully grasping the world that I encountered, nor knowing when and where its creatures would emerge (or sneak up behind me), set the installation apart from a traditional, seated performance. Indeed, not knowing what to expect, along with those rare interactive moments, are what make Cedar Lake’s installations enticing. There is always more than you know.
Ana-Maria Lucaciu
Matthew Rich and Jubal Battisti
All photos by Evan Namerow
Cedar Lake Brings “Orbo Novo” to the Joyce
October 27, 2009
Cedar Lake dancers in Orbo Novo, photo by Julieta Cervantes
Belgian choreographer Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui’s Orbo Novo (New World), created for Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet, made its New York City premiere last week at the Joyce Theater. The piece was inspired by “My Stroke of Insight”, a memoir by the neuro-anatomist Jill Bolte Taylor, who suffered a stroke at the age of thirty-seven. Weaving together flowing movement and text that is both humorous and analytical, Cherkaoui attempted to illustrate distinctions between the past and the future, the left and right brain hemispheres, the old and new. In spite of seamless dancing, the result lacked texture and variety, never revealing a world more intriguing or complex than our own.
The stage created boundaries and constraints for the dancers with a set design of four red, metal grids on wheels, created by Alexander Dodge. When Acacia Schachte climbed the lattice structure, hung gracefully at the top, and then slithered to the floor – where she excelled at Cherkaoui’s undulating movement before collapsing – the audience saw the first of many literal portrayals of Taylor’s memoir. This clear illustration of a stroke was followed by spoken text – accompanied by slow walking and myriad arm gestures – that elaborated on Taylor’s thought process as the stroke occurred. Speaking matter-of-factly and at times humorously, the dancers conveyed the experience of mentally persevering while physically struggling to go through the motions.
Cedar Lake in Orbo Novo, photo by Julieta Cervantes
More compelling was the series of solos, trios, and ensemble dancing – filled with moments of calm stung by aggressive, tumbling spurts of adrenaline – that set the dancers into eternally-moving journeys that only came to an end because of confinement within the metal structure’s walls. When the dancers were trapped, their limbs dangled lifelessly through the grid, and suddenly they would glide through and come to life. Freed or contaminated, however, there was little variety in Cherkaoui’s choreography. It was just one undulating movement after another. And although watching their supple bodies ripple and curl was mesmerizing at times, the eyes tended to glaze over because of so little change in movement quality throughout the eighty-minute work. Szymon Brzóska’s meditative score, played by the Mosaic String Quartet and pianist Aaron Wunsch, was similarly unvarying with the exception of a few vibrant, fast-paced sections that infused the piece with energy.
Cedar Lake’s dancers are undoubtedly a talented, disciplined group, but in Orbo Novo they appeared unmoved by the content of the work, and sections of their speaking were forced and insincere. While they beautifully achieved the illusion that their physical beings were pushed and pulled by external forces, their performances lacked the emotional and psychological depth that the piece required. Perhaps this has more to do with Cherkaoui, who never shared his own voice in the piece, instead relying solely on Taylor’s memoir for direction and interpretation. The result was a one-dimensional, unchanging world that was more bland than peaceful.




























