DOORKNOB COMPANY: We Are Here After
May 15, 2010
DOORKNOB COMPANY in We Are Here After, photo by Corrine Furman
DOORKNOB COMPANY transformed Joyce SoHo into a frigid winter land on Thursday evening in the world premiere of We Are Here After, choreographed by company co-founders Shannon Gillen and Elisabeth Motley. It was not a pristine, sparkling winter scene, but rather a harrowing, immersive environment in which Gillen and Motley, along with Janna Diamond and Xan Burley explored the mysterious afterlife and the fragility of fragmented memories. Shifting from past to future in a series of dream-like narratives and events, the four dancers and three on-stage musicians that make up Colonna Sonora created an intensely unpredictable journey into the unknown.
Xan Burley and Shannon Gillen in "We Are Here After", photo by Corrine Furman
Before the eerie, sometimes jarring sounds of Colonna Sonora flooded the snow-covered space, a dancer laid perfectly still, and later it became clear that another was buried under a large pile of snow. The former seemed to be sleeping, while the second dancer – who was discovered by the first – looked dead. Their colliding worlds raised questions about the connections between life and afterlife, while fluid time-travel throughout the work blurred the lines between the two. Indeed, the compelling dancers – all dressed in white street clothes – individually and collectively navigated through a constantly shifting world, always struggling to find their way. Just when it seemed like they were on the verge of settling into their environment, harsh noise or an abrupt change in the delicate lighting (designed by Amanda K. Ringger) signaled a shift as they encountered new terrain. All four dancers were deeply committed, but Shannon Gillen, in particular, was startlingly absorbed in her performance, pulling the audience right into her world and her experience.
Combative duets flowed into desperate digging amidst the snow; a white tree draped in white lights blinked slowly as Motley plugged and unplugged the cord; and the dancers and musicians swayed to White Christmas, which dissolved into choppy memories and awkward embraces as Motley gasped and made kissing sounds into a microphone. These and other vignettes – enriched by the musicians’ astute playing – revealed the fragile spaces between memory and the unknown, and the sense of loss and yearning and dizzying uncertainty while wandering through a cold, strange world.
Performance Mix Festival at Joyce SoHo
April 19, 2010
Dianna David in Letter to Michael, photo by Luke Moloney
The New Dance Alliance (NDA) took over Joyce SoHo last week for its 24th annual Performance Mix Festival, which brought together over thirty dance, music, video, and interdisciplinary artists from the US and abroad. The festival, produced and curated by NDA Director Karen Bernard, supports emerging artists by providing them with performance opportunities, rehearsal space, and career development residencies. Thursday evening’s lineup offered typical results of the festival format – some good, some bad – but it was an eclectic group of performers who showed an impressive range of styles and themes.
Lucie Vigneault and Frédérick Gravel of Montreal’s Gravel Art Group (GAG) introduced themselves and proceeded to show the audience three dramatic pauses – all of which had been extracted from a piece called Gravel Works. Gravel matter-of-factly explained that they didn’t have time to show the entire work since other artists were waiting to perform, so these pauses would have to suffice. These intriguing excerpts were just a slice of GAG, but enough to spark curiosity.
The other Canadian artist on the program, Dianna David of DubD Productions, presented Letter to Michael – yes, a tribute to the late king of pop. While this one-woman piece included some of Jackson’s best-known moves from “Billie Jean” and “Thriller”, the work also featured a narration by Jacob Richmond in the form of a letter, apologizing on behalf of all of Jackson’s fans for driving him mentally insane, while also revealing the positive, chock-full-of-dance impact he had on David’s childhood. Adding choreography to the narration, David proved to be an exceptionally talented dancer, mime, and actress, portraying all of the youthful angst of a child desperate to attend one of Jackson’s concerts back in 1984. The work was humorous, touching, and an original way to honor a musical idol.
Alexandra Beller in egg, photo by Rachel Roberts
In an excerpt from Detail of Double Escapement, Chicago’s Tif Bullard recited poetry and a song about a drowning girl while appearing to go through a Victorian mourning ritual. The piece was so internalized that it seemed self-indulgent, without showing an interest in conveying anything meaningful to the audience. Alexandra Beller’s egg, however, conveyed a bit too much. The piece – a commentary on the struggles of balancing motherhood and artistic endeavors – seemed like a giant complaint and perhaps even an expression of regret. Beller started alone onstage holding an egg in her mouth, but as more people gradually entered and made demands of her – playing the role of students in the dance classes she teaches or a doctor preparing her for child-rearing – her stress level skyrocketed until she couldn’t bear it. Navigating her way through a sea of eggs, Beller took a literal approach to dealing with a very common problem – balancing work and family.
New York-based performance artist Yozmit presented Yozmit and Her Specimen, a scattered, elusive duet that left me wondering: Is this a parody or not? The answer was unclear. Wearing shiny capes and helmets, Yozmit and Wendell Cooper – both androgynous figures – danced to a techno beat before shedding their capes and revealing futuristic suits and headpieces. Then they cooked spaghetti in a pot on stage and stared dramatically at the audience. We stared right back at them – partly confused, partly amused.
skybetter and associates at Joyce SoHo
March 31, 2010
skybetter and associates at Joyce SoHo, photo by Ramon Estevanell
Shortly after the conclusion of skybetter and associates’ program at Joyce SoHo on Saturday evening, a man in the audience said, “What a smart, efficient program.” He was right. At just under an hour long, the company – founded by Sydney Skybetter in 2008 – packed a great deal of flowing movement and sophisticated music into its program. The pieces were short in length but endlessly poetic, often exploring themes such as community and loneliness. Skybetter has that rare, admirable ability to create choreography that is soft-spoken yet powerful, deeply personal yet universally accessible.
The most striking example of this was Cold House You Kept, which illustrated the unstoppable unraveling of a community as the seven dancers gradually decreased to one. Gorecki’s string quartet in “Quasi una Fantasia” created a sense of urgency as the movement increasingly featured push-pull tension among the dancers. As the group decreased in size, one dancer clung sadly to another, while others rocked from side to side on the floor with their hands pressed to their hearts. The loneliness felt by the lone dancer on stage at the piece’s end was palpable.
Fugue State and Potemkin Piece also showed communities: the former was upbeat and carefree to the scherzo from Shoshtakovich’s “Piano Quintet” while the latter was more brooding, observant, and somber to a string quartet by Dvorak. Musicality shined through in both, particularly as the dancers emphasized nuances in Potemkin Piece when they plunged to the floor and then suddenly rose and circled their arms.
Dancers in The Laws of Falling Bodies, photo by Ramon Estevanell
All of the works featured highly physical partnering and striking spatial formations, but The Laws of Falling Bodies, making its New York premiere, stood out for so effortlessly doing so. This otherworldly piece tested gravity’s limitations as the dancers created lifts and balances that were delicately airborne before often tumbling to the floor. Bathed in golden light and situated in a spare, eerie atmosphere, the dancers repeatedly returned to a simple, one-legged balance with the other leg hovering above the floor, eager to launch into another haunting round of gravity-defying movement.
Woven throughout the program were three solos from The Personal, performed by Kristen Arnold, Bergen Wheeler, and Skybetter. To Schumann’s Dichterliebe or Schubert’s Schwanengesang, each dancer created spiraling, circling movement under a pool of light. Movement patterns were similar, but each dancer uniquely shared a quiet meditation with the audience. Their inclusion in the program created a nice balance between the ensemble and solo works, both of which highlighted the emotional depth, lyricism, and musicality of Skybetter’s choreography.
Skybetter Performs at Joyce SoHo & Online
March 25, 2010
Sydney Skybetter, photo by Ramon Estevanell
Sydney Skybetter’s Brooklyn-based company, skybetter and associates, makes its Joyce SoHo debut tonight with the New York premiere of The Law of Falling Bodies, three repertory works, and the world premiere of Fugue State, which was developed during the company’s recent creative residency at Joyce SoHo. Performances by this young, talented company sold out fast, but luckily, each performance will be live-streamed for free! If you don’t have tickets, tune in tonight, tomorrow, or Saturday at 8 PM (or for all three!) to watch skybetter and associates from the comfort of your home. Plus, tonight’s performance includes a post-show discussion.
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.
