We Give Ourselves Away At Every Moment
July 29, 2010
Choreographer Bill T. Jones makes a special appearance at the River To River Festival's “We Give Ourselves Away at Every Moment: An Event For Merce” at Rockefeller Park in New York City, photo by Abbey Braden
This past Monday, July 26th, marked the one-year anniversary of choreographer Merce Cunningham’s death. One week after he died, his company gave a marvelous performance at Rockefeller Park. This year, on a day that was just as hot and sunny as last year’s event, River to River Festival presented “We Give Ourselves Away at Every Moment: An Event for Merce”. The performance included choreography by Jon Kinzel, Susan Marshall, Lucinda Childs, Faye Driscoll, and Bill T. Jones, all of whom were inspired by Cunningham’s dances and approach to dance-making. In the spirit of Cunningham’s use of chance operations, they presented pre-existing work that was repurposed for the occasion, with live music by David Eggar, Geoff Gersh, and Kotchy. Here are some photos from the performance, which was surely just as memorable as last year’s “Event”. And check out Eva Yaa Asantewaa’s wonderful photos on her blog, Infinite Body.
Performers Caitlin Scranton and Anne Lewis perform in “Dance II” by Lucinda Childs Dance, photo by Abbey Braden
Vicky Shick and Jon Kinzel perform "Drastic Cut and Responsible Ballet", photo by Abbey Braden
Visiting the Palais Garnier in Paris
July 23, 2010
The exterior of the Palais Garnier
Earlier this month I spent a very busy week in the wonderful city of Paris. While New York City was apparently scorching, the City of Light was having a heat wave of its own with absolutely no rain. Fortunately, that boded well for sight-seeing, lots of walking, and dining outdoors at brasseries (one of my favorite things about Paris was that the sun didn’t set until about 10 PM, and it wasn’t pitch black until close to midnight!).
In addition to getting lost in the Louvre, boating on the Seine, praising the efficiency of the Metro (it puts the MTA to shame), getting mistaken for a particular dancer in the Paris Opera Ballet (!), biking around the Grand Canal at Versailles, admiring the beauty of Monet’s gardens in Giverny, eating delicious food, and drinking delicious wine, of course I took in some dance. I’ll be sharing my reviews very soon, but for now, here are some photos from the Palais Garnier, also known as the Opéra Garnier or Opéra de Paris. The David H. Koch Theater and Metropolitan Opera House aren’t exactly shabby, but the Palais Garnier is in a league of its own. In bright daylight it was impossible to look directly at the gilded angels atop the building (in the above photo) without being blinded.
The ceiling of one of the lower lobbies
A lighting rehearsal was in progress when I visited
Marc Chagall’s stunning ceiling, which was painted in 1964
On the stairs leading up to the theater
One of the glittering lobbies
A model of the Palais Garnier in the Musée d’Orsay
The balcony
The view from the balcony
Off the Wall at the Whitney
July 2, 2010
Trisha Brown Dance Company at the Whitney Museum, 1971, photo by Walter Gutman, courtesy Anthology Film Archives
From July 1st through September 19th, the Whitney Museum of American Art presents Off the Wall, a two-part exhibition that brings together thirty performative actions by artists, in works made from 1946 to the present, and seven iconic works by Trisha Brown. One of these works, Skymap (1969), was performed at the Dia:Beacon this past winter.
Part I: Thirty Performative Actions
On view from July 1 – September 19, Off the Wall: Thirty Performative Actions, focuses on actions using the body in live performance, in front of the camera, or in relation to a photograph or a drawing. Each action displaces the site of the artwork from an object to the body, acting in relation to, or directly onto, the physical space of the gallery. The wall and floor are often the stage for these actions: walking on the wall, slamming a door, gathering sawdust up from the studio floor, slapping hands against the wall, walking on a painting, striding and crawling, writing or drawing on the wall and the floor, or performing a striptease. The actions include re-performances of iconic early works by John Baldessari (I Will Not Make Any More Boring Art, (1971) and Yoko Ono (Painting to be Stepped On, (1961), realized by Nate Lowman), as well as recent works by young artists including Dara Friedman and Trisha Donnelly, and David Hammons’ video installation Phat Feet, in which the sidewalk of the Bowery in downtown New York City becomes the stage.
Also included are works by Vito Acconci, Carl Andre, Jonathan Borofsky, John Coplans, David Hammons, Joan Jonas, Paul McCarthy, Robert Morris, Bruce Nauman, Dennis Oppenheim, David Salle, Lucas Samaras, Richard Serra, and Andy Warhol. The use of the performative action by women to challenge male definitions of the body can be seen in works by Jenny Holzer, Dara Birnbaum, Martha Rosler, Hannah Wilke, Francesca Woodman, Carrie Mae Weems and Carolee Schneemann. The unprecedented crossover between dance and performance that occurred in the 1970s can also be seen in works by Trisha Brown, Yvonne Rainer, Maya Deren, Simone Forti, and Nauman.
The exhibition includes a number of works that reveal the underlying theatricality of the performative action, and the ways in which artists stage the self in images that question conventions of identity, gender, and perceptions of the body. In the work of artists including Laurie Simmons, Robert Longo, Cindy Sherman, Tony Oursler and Sonic Youth, Francesca Woodman, Jimmy DeSana, David Wojnarowicz, Peter Hujar, Jack Pierson, Lyle Ashton Harris and Robert Mapplethorpe, the camera replaces the white cube of the gallery as the stage upon which action occurs.
Part 1 is curated by Chrissie Iles, the Whitney’s Anne & Joel Ehrenkranz Curator.
Part 2: Seven Works by Trisha Brown
Part 2 features the Trisha Brown Dance Company, on the occasion of the company’s fortieth anniversary. Six dance works and a sound installation made in the late 1960s and early 1970s will be presented. The dance works will be performed daily from September 30 through October 3, 2010, in the Second Floor Galleries, the Sculpture Court, and outside the Whitney Museum of American Art on East 75th Street. Trisha Brown’s history with the Whitney began when the now-acclaimed choreographer first brought her work uptown, to the Whitney’s Breuer building, after having debuted much of her work in downtown Manhattan, in Soho and at the Judson Church, among other places. Some of Brown’s most important early works including Walking on the Wall (1970), Leaning Duets II (1971), Falling Duet I (1968), Falling Duet II (1971), and Skymap (1969), were performed at the Whitney on March 30 and 31, 1971, as part of an evening titled “Another Fearless Dance Concert.” They are all re-presented in this exhibition. When asked recently about her relationship to the Whitney, Brown commented, “The Whitney? I was born there!”
Part 2 is curated by Limor Tomer, the Whitney’s Adjunct Curator of Performing Arts.
A Serenade to Remember
May 23, 2010
NYCB dancers in George Balanchine’s Serenade, photo by Paul Kolnik
There was a collective moan of disappointment from the audience on Friday evening at New York City Ballet when it was announced that Darci Kistler, who is retiring at the end of this season, would not be performing in George Balanchine’s Serenade. But with the radiant Jenifer Ringer dancing in her place, along with Teresa Reichlen and Sara Mearns in the other principal roles, it was one of the most sublime performances of Serenade that I have seen in a long time. I had chills down my spine and tears in my eyes.
Tchaikovsky’s luxurious score is moving on its own, but it becomes even more transcendent with the signature opening of the ballet: the corps, scattered across the stage in long blue tulle skirts and serene blue lighting, looks up at their raised right hand that appears to be blocking the sun from their eyes (In fact, the first performance of Serenade, in 1934, was outdoors at Felix Warburg’s estate in White Plains, New York). The rush of movement that follows is superbly attuned to the delicate score for strings. In this performance, there was a crisp urgency to the corps’ dancing that felt incredibly fresh, yet they remained ethereal. As the “fainting girl”, Sara Mearns built on the otherworldly quality of the ballet as she practically floated across the stage in a swirl of movement. I am increasingly amazed by the power and the intensity that she offers in every role.
NYCB dancers in costume for Serenade, photo by NYCB dancer Gwyneth Muller
Although there is no narrative, Serenade weaves themes of loss and sadness with brighter optimism, from the disoriented fainting girl scene, to the cheerful quintet of women in the “Russian Dance” (led by Reichlen), to the partnering section in which Mearns guided Askegard across the stage while covering his eyes, as if wandering blindly. Throughout the performance, these two dancers along with Reichlen and Ringer conveyed the emotional richness that Serenade and Tchaikovsky’s score deserve. The ballet’s closing image is the most achingly beautiful moment in the ballet and has lingered in my memory since Friday. Ringer arched her back as she was carried aloft – a line of women bourree-ing on each side of her and Gwyneth Muller following behind – and slowly ascended towards a faint blue light.
I will always cherish this memorable performance, but for me, every Serenade is special because I was fortunate enough to learn and perform in the ballet in 2002 while attending The Jillana School, a summer ballet program in New Mexico founded by former NYCB principal Jillana. As a company member, she danced every role in Serenade, and as she staged the ballet for me and the other students, listening to her stories about rehearsals with Balanchine was a treat. We performed on an outdoor stage, and just as the piece began, the skies opened up and there was a massive rainstorm. I could barely hear the live accompaniment over the booming thunder, but it was such a thrill – emotionally overwhelming, frighteningly chaotic, and definitely exhilarating. Serenade had never felt so dramatic.
NYCB in Serenade, photo by Paul Kolnik
Mikhail Baryshnikov in Alexei Ratmansky's "Valse-Fantasie", photo by Julieta Cervantes
Three distinguished artists, Mikhail Baryshnikov, Steve Paxton, and David Neumann, presented Unrelated Solos at Baryshnikov Arts Center on Wednesday evening as part of May Nights in the Jerome Robbins Theater. These strikingly different dancers were at the top of their game in an evening of unique and memorable performances. All three were compelling, and no matter what Baryshnikov does, he’s utterly mesmerizing. Simply by standing on stage, his presence, grace, and poise were spellbinding. It was a rare, wonderful treat to be able to watch him – at age 62, no less – perform live along with two other accomplished artists.
The evening featured three solos performed by Baryshnikov, two by Neumann, and one by Paxton. The dancers’ disparate backgrounds lent themselves to their performances: Baryshnikov performed with American Ballet Theatre and New York City Ballet before directing the White Oak Dance Project and founding BAC, Paxton was one of the founders of contact improvisation and the Judson Dance Theater, and Neumann works in both dance and theater as artistic director of advanced beginner group. As such, the program was well-balanced and showed little overlap in terms of style. Perhaps the only “related” component among the solos was the dancers’ magnetism.
Baryshnikov opened the program with the New York premiere of Benjamin Millepied’s Years later, a meditation on aging and a charming look at Misha’s past set to music by Philip Glass and Akira Rabelais. A thoughtful, quiet solo transitioned to a more playful conversation between the on-stage Misha and filmed footage of the much younger Misha (As if watching him on stage weren’t enough, imagine trying to simultaneously watch the live man and rare footage of him from at least forty years ago). The live dancer echoed the movement of his younger self – with Jennifer Tipton’s gorgeous lighting design casting shadows across the two in various ways – but eventually he could not keep up with the filmed Baryshnikov. Asa Mader’s video design looped one of his astounding pirouettes so that they seemed to be never-ending. The live Misha shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “Ok, you win”, and acknowledged the passing of time.
Mikhail Baryshnikov in Benjamin Millepied’s Years later, photo by Andrea Mohin
His second solo, Alexei Ratmansky’s Valse-Fantasie, was equally light-hearted. Baryshnikov took on the role of Mikhail Glinka, the composer of the piece who, while writing the score, was infatuated with Yekaterina Kern, the daughter of a famous high society beauty of the Napoleonic era in Russia. Circumstances kept them apart, and after going abroad to cure his heartache, Glinka returned without any feelings for Kern. Utilizing precise mime set to the swift violin waltz, Baryshnikov conveyed Glinka’s ever-changing emotions and drama while emphasizing Ratmansky’s delicate wit and nuanced style.
David Neumann in "Dose", photo by Julieta Cervantes
David Neumann’s 1996 solo Dose illustrated Neumann playing it cool to a Tom Waits song. Wearing a black suit and hat under a spotlight center stage, Neumann winked, echoed some of the song’s lyrics with gestures, and remained cool and confident throughout the lightning-quick work. His second solo, Tough the tough (redux) was a darker re-working of a 2006 solo. DJ Mendel’s recorded narration written by Will Eno explained that Neumann was a man named “Steve”, or possibly “Steven/Stephan/mankind/humanity/whatever”. As Mendel narrated the everyday minutiae and decisions of life, Steve went about his day, occasionally appearing clumsy or indecisive yet always returning to his routine. For all of its humor and irony, Tough the tough (redux) was an impressive, well-crafted commentary on the predictability and follies of humanity.
Paxton’s solo, a world premiere called The Beast, was the least accessible and most nuanced work on the program. Dressed in street clothes and standing under a dim circle of light, Paxton (now 71 years old) shifted delicately from one subtle movement to the next – either in silence or to the occasional sound of little bursting bubbles. His ongoing internal conversation with his body about what came next was remarkably focused without exerting excruciating effort. Even if the audience could not detect the inner initiative for each movement, Paxton’s natural ease and awareness was clear.
Steve Paxton in The Beast, photo by Julieta Cervantes
Closing the program was For You, a work in progress choreographed by Susan Marshall in collaboration with Baryshnikov. After formally presenting himself to the audience with a quick opening to 1st position (reminiscent of the opening in Balanchine’s Serenade), Baryshnikov invited three members of the audience, one by one, onto the stage and into a chair. While maintaining eye contact, he performed a brief solo for each individual and eventually wove the solos together into a larger expression of gratitude. The piece created a wonderful sense of intimacy between Misha and the individuals on stage, and for the rest of the audience, it was fascinating to watch them shift between nervousness, delight, and sheer admiration as they marveled at one of the most wondrous dancers of our time performing just inches away from them.
