Municipal Ballet Co.: The River Speaks Plainly

When Sarah Longoria, director of Municipal Ballet Co., stepped to the microphone last night to thank Fisher Brewing Co. for hosting their performance of The River Speaks Plainly, she mentioned it was “the first ballet they’ve ever had here.” She admitted that the company hoped to perform this piece on a river, but those plans didn’t work out: “If you can’t go down the river, go to Fisher,” she added.

Indeed, the setting was perfect: flash flood warnings were issued at 6 p.m., but by 8 p.m., the sky was clear, with streaks of pale blue, pink, and lavender adding to the dancers’ backdrop. A dance floor had been set up behind the brewery (where cornhole games are typically played), and there were folding chairs for the sold-out audience. More people stood in the back, and the atmosphere was lively and supportive.

Pixie and the Partygrass Boys, a fantastic local bluegrass band, set up their instruments at the edge of the floor, and eleven Municipal Ballet dancers turned the stage into an evocative platform for stories of river-runners: John Wesley Powell, Bert Loper, Glen and Bessie Hyde, Buzz Holmstrom, Martin Litton, Georgie White Clark, and Kenton Grua.

A narrator, Colby Frazier, introduced scenes choreographed by the company’s dancers, designers, and guests. Frazier’s writing and delivery added to the casual vibe, especially when he began with, “I don’t have any of this memorized.” His vignettes, beautifully composed, presented a balance between historical facts and resonant images, and his writing made me think of Municipal Ballet’s niche in Salt Lake City: the dancers present a compelling balance of craft and creativity, they are well-trained and inviting performers, and there’s a refreshingly diverse range of heights and backgrounds in the company. When they dance together, there are moments where they acknowledge one another and smile. This kind of camaraderie is both enjoyable and rare.

When I asked Nora Price, a dancer and choreographer, about her choice to perform with Municipal Ballet, she wrote in an email, “I think standard proscenium dance performances, and many site-specific and unconventionally-staged shows as well, hold audiences captive; I’d rather feel free to be captivated, or not. I don’t respond happily to being held aesthetically hostage as an audience member, OR as a dancer. I like feeling that folks’ pleasure in an experience is not wholly contingent on my perfect execution of unremitting whimsy/edginess/technical mastery. Even if they can expect to remain seated throughout, being in an otherwise engaging environment with beverages or snacks and a visible live local band sets a distinct tone.”

Last night’s distinct tone was enhanced by the support of a local business, the brewery, and local heroes, the river-runners. Frazier’s narration introduced an atmosphere for each scene, and the choreography extended his tales. For instance, Frazier disclosed details of the Hyde couple’s adventure of 1928, but the dancers’ performance, choreographed by Nora Price and Emily Snow, added details to his story of the couple’s demise.

Introducing Holmstrom’s adventures, Frazier quoted from the river-runner’s journal, “The last bad one above me--the Bad Rapid--Lava Cliff--that I had been looking for, nearly a thousand miles--I thought: once past there my reward will begin, but now everything ahead seems kind of empty and I find I have already had my reward, in the doing of the thing…” The ensuing dance, entitled “The Doing of the Thing,” choreographed by Olivia Mason, created an apt comparison: Nora Price, Nick Gibas, and Stacie Riskin presented images of intertwining and interdependence. There seemed to be a distinct joy in discovering what was possible and supporting one another. It reminded me of a quote from Merce Cunningham, “You have to love dancing to stick to it. It gives you nothing back, no manuscripts to store away, no paintings to show on walls and maybe hang in museums, no poems to be printed and sold, nothing but that single fleeting moment when you feel alive.” Similar to Holmstrom’s “doing of the thing,” Cunningham’s words conjure links between river-running and dancing.

Throughout the evening, choreographers presented different approaches to conveying the river’s propulsion and force. In the first scene, choreographed by Longoria and entitled “The River,” the cast performed recognizable ballet steps, from waltzes to chaîné turns. Her choreography conveyed a sense of momentum as the opening solo, performed wonderfully by Sierra Williams, morphed into duets, quartets, trios, and the entire ensemble dancing together.

In contrast, Jessica Liu’s choreography for Nick Gibas, called “Ballad for Glen Canyon,” drew from more modern vocabularies, with extensive floor-work and idiosyncratic phrasing. Gibas performed this swirling and spiraling choreography with compelling power and abandon, an evocative image of the Colorado River. His solo recalled the words of Wendell Berry, read by Frazier before the “Ballad:” “Men may dam it and say that they have made a lake, but it will still be a river. It will keep its nature and bide its time, like a caged animal alert for the slightest opening.”

There were other scenes that merged ballet and modern vocabularies, as in Katie Davis’s quartet, “Litton’s Boats,” inspired by the driving music of the band. As the tempo increased, so did the dancing, and the investment and stamina of the performers - Hannah Bowcutt, Katie Davis, Stacie Riskin, and Tristana Yegge - were thrilling. The quartet ended with one of the dancers giving a thumbs-up to the musicians, a moment of conviviality that made visible the collaborative spirit of the evening.

While presenting ballet in this hybrid setting - with musicians, a narrator, and an interactive vibe - may be atypical in today’s dance world, The River Speaks Plainly reminded me of ballet’s roots: in 1581, Catherine de Medici commissioned “Ballet Comique de La Reine Louise,” which is considered the first ballet. It too was an evening that merged dancing with instrumental music, songs, and spoken verses. It too was propelled by a woman’s vision.

In contrast to The River Speaks Plainly, “Ballet Comique” was an exclusive affair, designed to reinforce and glorify the power of the state. To see Municipal Ballet is to see how far ballet has come: it’s an art form that can be inclusive, inviting, and fun. My attention was drawn to the clarity and vivacity in dancing by Sierra Williams, Nora Price, and Emily Snow. I imagine that other audience members were drawn to other performers and their unique attributes, and to me this speaks to the mutability and sustainability of ballet.

Wrapping the dancers in a blanket of bluegrass, the evening’s terrific music was composed by Ben Weiss and performed by Zach Downes on upright bass, Amanda Grapes on fiddle, Andrew Nelson on guitar, Weiss on mandolin, and Katia Racine on ukulele and vocals. When I asked Grapes during one of the beer breaks about the difference between a violin and a fiddle, she said, “A violin has strings, and a fiddle has strangs.” The band’s unpretentious and powerful playing was a symbiotic partner to Municipal Ballet Co.: together they created an evening that brings ballet into the 21st century.

The final performance of The River Speaks Plainly tonight, August 23, is sold out, but you can see Municipal Ballet Co. perform excerpts at the inaugural Busker Fest on Friday, August 24.

Kate Mattingly is an assistant professor of dance at the University of Utah. She has a doctoral degree in performance studies from UC Berkeley, and has had writing published in The New York Times, The Village Voice, Dance Research Journal, Dance magazine, and Pointe magazine, among others.

Municipal Ballet Co. & Color Animal: Night

I began driving to the Commonwealth Studios upset that my tidy and prescribed theater route was disrupted on a hot night. But upon parking (finally) I discovered that the Municipal Ballet Company had found yet another magical space for something to happen.

The company’s newest concert, “Night” is, in a word, disarming.

In its sixth year of presenting concerts, this collaborative group directed by Sarah Longoria has consistently used charms to relieve the suspicion of both dance skeptics and dance critics. By carefully choosing venues off dance’s beaten path, collaborating with local bands (in this case, Color Animal) and always ensuring that beverages are provided, it’s challenging not to find something to enjoy about the experiences created by Municipal Ballet Co. whether you are a regular dance goer or, more likely, new to the field. For the former, there are new faces and places (did I mention beverages) and for the latter, there are entry points beyond movement.

Many of these entry points are stylized —  garage tracks juxtaposed with ballet steps in a commercial studio, but they are also unwitting and spatial. I am able to turn to the band on my left and notice that Felicia Baca is concentrating and therefore chewing her gum in a particular way. Or, that the audience member to my right closes his eyes at a certain cadence in Andrew Shaw’s voice. If I am choreographically disinterested, I can also see who has snuck to the bar or the black and white photographs in the back of the space. With each of these passing glances, I can just as easily return to the strips of gray marley where a handful of dancers perform the twelve works that comprise “Night.”

Theoretically these dances each represent an hour of the night, from dusk to dawn, and relate to the contemporary political moment. But in my view, that topical idea is less present than something that continually rises to the surface in Municipal Ballet Co. concerts, the complicated way in which so many individuals fill so many vibrant roles in Salt Lake’s art and social scenes.  

In this work, no choreographer, dancer, or musician holds a singular title and I am aware as I’m watching that this not just a dance concert but a dance concert which includes: radio personalities, writers, gallery directors, parents, arts administrators, neighbors, and even one of my first dance teachers. The audience reflects this multiplicity back to the stage and returns a vibrant energy of friends, family, and future collaborators eager to participate in something new.

The atmosphere of possibility has some moments of particular excitement. In “Destruction,” Mary Jessie Floor bourres while David Ayala and Tim Dwyer (literally) juggle fire around her port de bras. In “Disconnection,” Ben Estabrook’s films take the stage in new contexts, and in “Dismantle,” Nora Price impossibly cooly departs her own solo to harmonize with the band.

But that feeling of possibility is also disrupted at times: when the addition of oatmeal colored ballet skirts overwhelms the more fashionable aesthetic of clothes-we-happened-to-have, when the confines of the small space cause a choreographic glitch, or when the inevitable disparity among performing bodies is revealed -- — 

The fifth dance of the concert, “Tomb” is performed by Ursula Perry, a Repertory Dance Theater company member. Her command of the stage is tremendous and this control is derived in part from Chase Wise’s choreography but, in larger part, the amount she dances each day. It isn’t until she performs that there is a distinction between her, a dancer by trade, and the former performers who (as described) fulfill many artistic roles but simply don’t have the same degree of daily physical practice. For the casual observer, pointing this out may not appreciably change nor represent their experience, but for me, the first moment of her sharp gestures troubles the former works of the concert. Despite this sentiment, the solo is beautiful, as are many preceding and following dances -- a trio by Jo Blake that unfolds alongside the music, Joni Wilson’s crisply cupped hands and delicate movements in “Fragility,” and the unfolding choreographic pieces and earnest pairings within ensemble works.

If disarming is the first word, liminal is the final word.

Municipal Ballet Co. arrives at a boundary between showing audiences ballet steps and exploring choreographic structures; at a threshold of something commercially engaging to audiences but still artistically focused; occupying a place where I like “Night” but also (the best part is) that they don’t need me to.

Ashley Anderson directs loveDANCEmore programs as part of her 501c3, ashley anderson dances.  

Municipal Ballet Co.: Wilder, at Storm Mountain Amphitheater

“Are you looking for the Municipal Ballet performance too?”

 A bunch of us wandered around the Storm Mountain camping and picnic area, criss-crossing each other on winding paths, following different hunches about where we might find the show we had driven up Big Cottonwood Canyon to see: Municipal Ballet Co.’s Wilder. There was a sign for the Storm Mountain Amphitheater at the parking lot, but no further signs after that, and no signage at all from the ballet company.

 Audience members trickled into the amphitheater continually throughout the 45-minute performance. The amphitheater is surrounded by dramatic rock faces and trees with gently wavering leaves, and the graduated seating made for perfect views of the stage for everyone.

 In this beautiful setting, costumes with flowing hi-lo skirts in shades of pink and purple added to the visual impact, enhancing movement and bringing softness to the color scheme, a perfect choice to match the music and choreography. Kudos to the multi-talented director, Sarah Longoria, who dyed and sewed each costume.

Municipal Ballet Co. performs on their own stage, made of two layers of plywood, and taped-down marley floor, laid out over the concrete surface, set up and taken down for each performance. This transportable stage is what they practice on as well, and creating that predictability and familiarity seems like an excellent way to reduce dancer stress.

 There was no backstage, but it appeared that some of the dancers forgot this, slouching and adjusting their costumes as soon as they stepped off their custom dance surface. I love the idea of being casual about the backstage, and I think the concept read best when the dancers kept their serene and beautiful presentation by simply holding still while sitting or standing beside the stage. An alternative way to go about this casual backstage would be to have all the dancers be very casual when ‘off stage’ - and this would have created an interesting contrast. As it was, the sometimes-casualness was distracting at times.

 For the most part, the dancers moved gracefully, with gorgeous softness, and nice unity in the unified parts of the choreography. One dancer’s inarticulate feet and trouble finding balance stuck out disappointingly.

Live music was played from directly beyond the portable stage surface: a cello and a piano attached to a bicycle (which the pianist rode up Big Cottonwood Canyon to get to the venue). Though there were two talented musicians creating lovely and peaceful sounds, the accompaniment was credited only to Eric Rich. The music was loud enough to be heard and enjoyed, but quiet enough that audience members, who had been encouraged to bring picnics to the event, felt somewhat uncomfortable eating, not wanting to ruin the auditory part of the experience by adding wrapper-rustling or chip-crunching sounds.

 The choreography was much more strongly rooted in classical ballet, as opposed to contemporary styles, than other recent performances by Municipal, which made sense based on the more classical accompaniment. It was also a great example of choreographing to the strengths of the dancers, who all have strong backgrounds in ballet. The inclusion of difficult turns and grand allegro moves was minimal, which I imagine allowed the dancers to be less stressed about executing challenging moves, and more focused on matching each other’s lines and enjoying dancing.

 The performance was free to watch, which supports Municipal Ballet’s mission of making ballet more accessible. They accepted donations, to be split 50-50 between MBCo. and Save Our Canyons, which seemed appropriate for the setting.

 Overall, Wilder was a wonderful show that combined live music, graceful dance, custom costuming, and a unique venue beautifully. I love that Municipal Ballet Co. can always be counted on to check those boxes and I also love that they are always mixing things up, as they are inspired by their different local musician collaborators. In Wilder, Municipal created a refreshingly beautiful and pleasant work to experience. I look forward to seeing what’s next for them.

A post shared by Municipal Ballet Co. (@municipalballetco) on Aug 12, 2017 at 9:45am PDT

Kendall Fischer is the Artistic Director of Myriad Dance Company, and a regular contributor to the blog. She has performed with SBDance, Municipal Ballet Co., La Rouge Entertainment, and Voodoo Productions, among others. She teaches pole dance at Onyx Pole and Aerial Fitness and ballet-inspired workouts at Pure Barre Draper. She also judges dance competitions.

River of Rosewater

Salt Lake City’s Municipal Ballet Co. recently presented River of Rosewater, a reimagining of The Nutcracker. Tchaikovsky’s score was arranged by local band, Pixie and the Partygrass Boys, and the bluegrass background and prominent saxophone begged you to familiarize yourself with Tchaikovsky’s iconic work all over again.

River of Rosewater was a time capsule transporting the audience to the early 1920’s from the moment they walked in. The motif was justified throughout the performance by every detail; the costuming, the music, and the choreography. This particular performance of Municipal Ballet’s was specific to the historic McCune Mansion located in the heart of downtown Salt Lake City, but the limited audience capacity of 60 sold out weeks in advance. I was lucky enough to attend an open dress rehearsal at another historic space, Salt Lake’s Clubhouse. Clubhouse was once home to the Ladies’ Literary Club but is under new ownership and open and available for use. The art-deco architecture fit perfectly with the Gatsby holiday vibes Municipal Ballet originally anticipated with the Mansion site.    

Sarah Longoria is the director of Municipal Ballet Co. Along with the help of her dancers, Longoria wrote and choreographed River of Rosewater. I’ve seen the past few shows of Municipal Ballet’s and I can’t help but notice and fall in love with Longoria’s themes that set her apart as a choreographer but particularly, as a ballet choreographer. Longoria prefers to dance to something other than classical music and she has deep-rooted support for live, local music. Longoria is constantly finding musicians throughout Utah to bring into her self-created spotlight. While Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite is the most classical and typical “ballet” music I can think, Sarah was able to find the means to reinvent the score to meet her aesthetic.

Longoria pays attention to detail, and not just in the dance. She pays attention to every costume, every performer’s character nuances, the energy of the venue, etc. For example: I was wondering why the company did not charge for the open dress rehearsal. Come to find out, Longoria wanted the audience to be able to bring their own drinks because it was fitting to the theme and vitality of the performance (Utah’s laws won’t allow you to charge for a private event with alcohol being served). That attention to detail sets Longoria’s artistry apart.  

Photo by Temria Airmet of Municipal Ballet Co. in a dress rehearsal for River of Rosewater at Clubhouse

Clara Silverhouse, danced by the always lovely Tristana Yegge, is about ten years older than we know her. The show begins with a holiday party where Clara sips a little too much absinthe and has a vivid dream full of dancers and a mystery man. Each dancer sets the tone by wearing unique and custom-made, 1920’s-inspired dresses. The choreography mixes line-dancing and the Charleston as the dancers weave in and out of formation. The performers and audience were smiling and clapping along to the music.   

The dancers in Municipal Ballet Co. possess flawless technique and it’s incredible to witness the execution of their lines in such small quarters. Their movements do not shrink even though an audience member is mere inches away. As a concert audience, we have become overly familiar with viewing dance, particularly ballet, in a theatre setting. And I wouldn’t say it’s rare to see dancers in a close setting. Modern dance does not surprise its audience with the use of an obscure or forcefully unique venue, but in the ballet world, I believe Longoria is in uncharted territory, at least for Utah’s dance community.

An array of soloists then performed for Clara, each with a contemporary rendition inspired by the original work. The standout piece was the Arabian duet performed by Brian Craig Nelson and Cynthia Phillips. Smooth, almost acrobatic movement kept continuously curving and kept the energy twisting. My eyes couldn’t look away.

Photo by Temria Airmet of Municipal Ballet Co. in a dress rehearsal for River of Rosewater at Clubhouse

The magic of River of Rosewater came in Tchaikovsky’s music. Pixie and the Partygrass Boys took on the daunting task of arranging the score. They gave me a new appreciation for Tchaikovsky and how timeless his work is. The classic melodies of "Waltz of the Snowflakes" and "Trepak" were rebirthed with saxophone and distant vocal harmonies leaving me stunned. Pixie and the Partygrass Boys took a score that most dancers know all too well and made it sound brand new. I feel the same for Longoria’s story line. The Nutcracker is a story many of us know all too well. The roaring 20’s-take on Clara’s experience made the whimsical world of The Nutcracker much more relatable and, in my opinion, more enjoyable because I could connect to it. Municipal Ballet Co. did a beautiful job at reinventing a classic. I am sad that I missed the actual showing at the McCune Mansion, but if the performance went even half as well as the dress rehearsal then I would call it a charming success.

Temria Airmet is the Artistic Director of Myriad Dance Company. She received her BFA in Modern Dance from the University of Utah and currently teaches with Ballet West, Tanner Dance, and Millennium Dance Complex.