Ririe-Woodbury: Parallax

This weekend, Ririe-Woodbury’s six artists undertook the task of creating for their audience a sense of parallax; the effect whereby the position or direction of an object appears to differ when viewed from different positions.

What ‘object’ was the viewer was intended to see differently; the idea of contemporary dance, the bodies of the artists, the company’s canon? One thing this viewer saw differently was the aesthetic range of the six-member company, illuminated by the curation of three unique dances and their staging.

The evening’s works -- a restaging of Kate Weare’s Unstruck (2015), the world premiere of artistic director Daniel Charon’s Exilic Dances, and Raja Feather Kelly’s Pantheon -- required much adaptability from the dancers, which they ably delivered. The pieces were thoughtfully staged with lighting by Cliff Wallgren and Mike Faba (Unstruck), and interesting costume design by Laura Kiechle and Brooke Cohen (Unstruck). All three works were presented with careful attention to shifts in the framing of wings, scrim, and stage that affect what we notice.

The curtain rose on Unstruck with Megan McCarthy and Mary Lyn Graves facing each other, backs undulating on a dimly-lit stage. Joined shortly by Dan Mont-Eton, they wove between duets and trio, three islands floating together around the proscenium sea. Weare’s masterful movement invention and use of the performers’ strong ballet technique kept me engaged at every surprising lift, light slap, and sensual touch. It was a dance of salt water taffy, each pull stretching the trio into a new relationship. As Unstruck neared its conclusion, the three walk in perfect unison towards the wing, glimpsing the exposed wall behind each step, above their heads a box of white light. I had the sense of not only witnessing the journey of the performers but joining them in it.

Yebel Gallegos and Melissa Younker in Kate Weare's Unstruck. Photo by Stuart Ruckman.

After a short break and speech from artistic director Charon and executive director Jena Woodbury, all six performers reappeared for Charon’s Exilic Dances. The jazzy stylings and on-the-nose use of music and props felt sincere, but it was the small moments rather than the overall effect that carried the dance. When Mary Lyn Graves appeared in a spotted fur coat holding a TV Guide Bible for Yebel Gallegos’ “Boris” to pledge his U.S. allegiance, her small nod and hunched position created more of a sense of character than earlier, more lengthy solos. Gallegos’ frenzied series of fouetté turns while holding a chair to a musical listing of the original 13 British American colonies brought a round of cheers from the audience, both lightening the mood and highlighting the absurdities of the hoops newly-arrived U.S. residents may face. I’m not sure if this work will be part of the company’s season tour, but hopefully so, as with a bit more rehearsal, more delightfully nuanced moments may emerge.  

Ririe-Woodbury in Charon's Exilic Dances. Photo by Stuart Ruckman.

Intermission.

Pantheon by Raja Feather Kelly.

Kelly describes this work as a search for a framing that causes the viewer to see movement differently.

What I saw differently:

1. Dancer bodies: the performers’ eclectic tattoos that were highlighted by their white underpants, wigs, athletic socks, and tennis shoes.

2. Dancer labor: the obvious fatigue and heaviness of the dancers rounding the bend on their second show of the day, at the conclusion of the weekend-long run.

Interesting images that developed:

1. Melissa Younker laying in pile of red confetti, spotlighted, the rest of the cast surrounding with crossed feet, jumping back and forward in syncopation.

2. Dancers folded forward with legs wide, gently bouncing their hips up and down in the kind of pop culture reference that Kelly’s mentions in his program notes.

3. The de-evolution of humans slowly passing from stage left to right, movement from standing -- crawling -- squirming.

Perhaps because of the promises contained in Kelly’s extensive program notes, I longed for these images or their framing to lead me on a surprising journey or culminate in an unexpected conclusion. Instead, the work felt predictably postmodern. Images, stitched together by a recurring running motif and a very extended series of each dancer slowly putting on brightly colored silk dresses, were overlaid by text excerpts describing the sorrow of fame and names of celebrities who have overdosed or committed suicide. At the end -- death in the spotlight. Celebrity life is tough, Kelly seemed to say. You betcha.

Megan McCarthy in Kelly's Pantheon. Photo by Stuart Ruckman.

Parallax offered challenging material, thoughtfully juxtaposed aesthetics, and excellent performances from the dancers. For this viewer, the show was not an insignificant commitment. My evening lasted two hours from the moment I sat down at 7:20 p.m. with a program in hand, to when I stood back up at 9:20 p.m. In Charon’s program notes, he emphasized the company’s philosophy that “Dance is for Everybody.” And it’s true, that everybody can appreciate and engage in the thought-provoking, intellectual and durational material such as that presented here. However, at a two-hour stretch it's hardly an easy leap, even for an avid dance-goer like myself.

Liz Ivkovich is in a relationship with the loveDANCEmore performance journal (it’s complicated), works in sustainability communication and development for the U of U, and adjuncts at SLCC.

Daniel Mont-Eton: Homeward

When I think of Dan Mont-Eton’s “Homeward” I think ambient – a word derived from ambire in Latin, meaning “to go around” - and around and around. I think of the dancers’ almost constant physical contact when dancing together, each an integral part of the other’s environment, supported by textural music composed by Michael Wall. If the dancers weren’t in physical contact, they were in unison, or at least close proximity. This relationship made it seem as if the three were one entity, all clad in cream-colored clothes.

I think of how jarring it was when Amy Falls first left the stage, breaking performative contact with Mont-Eton and Samantha Matsukawa, but watching them, waiting to be swept back into movement that never ceased for the forty-minute long performance. This sense of isolation or incompleteness when one dancer was gone was a reaction stemming from their connectivity when together; there was a phrase in which they all lay down on their sides “spooning” one another and linking their top arms to become one arm moving in a snake-like way. This phrase was repeated on the floor, and then standing; each repetition was changed by location and what came before or after it. When they did the “spoon-snake” close to the audience, they broke their connected arms by rolling to their backs and began weaving their opposite hands through their arms. I could have experienced this mesmerizing arm weave for a longer duration, but it ended as soon as it began to develop a visual pattern, like a braid left unfinished, the image quickly unraveled.

This unraveling fits the idea that homeward is not quite home - the piece did not settle, it was constantly moving to the next possibility either by relocating to a new physical location, or falling into new choreography. Falling was a constant - much of the movement was initiated by a sustained fall into a run, or collapse to the ground, or into another dancer. Toward the end of the piece, after Mont-Eton had danced separate duets with Matsukawa and Falls, he was left alone. He swept one leg into an arabesque in an upstage corner, then fell into a run on the diagonal to the opposite corner repeatedly until Matsukawa joined, then Falls. The three repeated this alternately sustained and sweeping phrase, providing a visual palate-cleanser after so much axial movement with one another.

For most of the piece, the performers expressions were stern, brows slightly furrowed, as if they really were searching for something elusive to provide a sense of comfort typically found at home. They repeatedly made a triangular shape with their legs and let one arm shift back and forth between their legs like a grandfather clock, evoking a sense of waiting, their arms like a compass hand that they would use to decide where to go next.

Sometimes the next place was an angular house-like shape with their bodies; they would shift out of this - or any shape - very quickly by running away or slapping one hand to the opposite forearm while turning or slapping one foot on the ground. At one point all three ran to the wall of the Studio Theater black-box and slapped their hands against it, leaning into it as if they were trying to push it away. Mont-Eton and Matsukawa’s duet was similar as they would move fluidly with together, but quickly become rigid towards each other, arms connected but firmly pushing away before the cycle continued. All of this pushing  in conjunction with the lighting design casting a shadow of window blinds on the ground made them seem trapped inside. It makes sense that one would not be comfortable being a house just as much as they wouldn’t be comfortable trapped inside one.

“Homeward” ended in the same corner that it began, but instead of standing in isolation, all three dancers were lying down next to one another, facing away from the audience. Falls traced a design onto Matsukawa’s back, who then traced another (secret message?) onto Mont-Eton’s back, who received the message as the lights went dark. The ambience of this piece was brooding, leaving me to wonder what a dance called “Home” would be like.

Left to right: Matsukawa, Mont-Eton, and Falls in "Homeward". Photo by Dat Nyguyen/Motion Vivid, lighting by James K. Larsen. 

Follow this link for more photos of "Homeward" by Dat Nyguyen/Motion Vivid.

Emma Wilson received her BFA in Modern Dance at the University of Utah and has since been making solo works, choreographing for Deseret Experimental Opera (DEXO), and working as the Salt Lake City Library’s Community Garden Coordinator.