SNaked: The True Story of the Garden of Eden

The preview performance of SNaked was assuredly like a first kiss — reeling in various exciting directions, sometimes disjointed with a limited scope, but consistently provocative and engaging. Before the lights dimmed, SB Dance artistic and executive director Stephen Brown thanked the audience for offering a preliminary “pucker”—payment for a ticket of the same price as the polished show coming June 10-11 and 17-18, a monetary vote of confidence that many performance companies need to stay afloat.

SB Dance patrons are promised a night of fervent subversion at the company’s events, usually intended for a liberal population concerned with bolstering Salt Lake City’s’s coveted counterculture. Acknowledging the origin of Salt Lake’s counterculture has become a local platitude, one that SB Dance preserves, but also pokes fun at. This tension between conservative ideals upheld in the LDS Church and their antithesis upheld by the white “counterculture cult” is intriguing, but limiting. It risks erasing the diverse population of people on the fringe, including many people of color, or queer people who don’t fit the “respectable” white, cis gay male bill that other white cisgendered people can more easily sympathize with and defend. Being of this latter group, Brown creates work that is more likely to represent that mainstream population, especially because of his executive direction style — his choreographic and directorial vision is clear and crisp, uncompromised by very much collaboration save for that of associate director Winnie Wood.  Nevertheless, the dynamic and kinetic nature of SB’s dance circus provides a refreshing bit of nuance on themes like gay rights and culture, the role of art, and, in the case of SNaked, a playful critique of patriarchy in Christianity contextualized within capitalism.

Following Brown’s opening remarks, a projection of the universe appears on the curtains, each galaxy pulsing to the voice of Winnie Wood, creating a delightfully simple personification. The female universe is stressed out about new galaxies that have formed since the Big Bang—she has a lot to orchestrate—so she decides to take a bath; she adds water, and fresh air, and, as a way of finding joy amid the stress of being the universe, also decides to add some children (played by Annie Kent, Christine Hasegawa, John Allen, Rick Santizo, Florian Alberge, and Kimberly Campa). They move powerfully across the floor, which is covered in what seem like wood chips, each performer rolling, jumping, falling with a childlike disposition — unrefined, teetering, legs wide most of the time. They wear Baroque-style white wigs, creating a cartoonish effect along with their varied short white dresses and black boots. The universe mother soon discovers that these children need a supervisor – enter Nathan Shaw, supercilious and ready for some fun…or a hot guy to play with.

After a jazzy and sharp dance number starring Shaw as the fierce dominant figure watching over the children, cut back to Mother Universe, getting bored. Enter the voice of God, spoken by Stephen Brown. The Christian God is portrayed as an enterprising crackpot wanting a piece of the universe pie. He tries to prove himself to Mother Universe, describing his plans for a garden. Listing his attributes, he admits to being sometimes misogynistic, a piece of exposition that might have been better revealed as part of the storyline — the hesitancy to include misogynistic subject matter, even as a joke, for fear of reinforcing that which is being critiqued, is understandable, but in this case it would have been safe to include those comments, considering how they could have been critiqued by Mother Universe; alternately, there was no such discretion taken when the snake joked about enticing gorgeous black men, using the phrase “black ebony hunks.”

The show develops with the momentum of acrobatic movement sequences interspersed with cameos concerning the daily grind of living; the dancers hastily hump the ground, then they eat wood chips from wooden salad bowls, they go to sleep, and repeat. Garden of Eden Inc. is established with Natosha Washington playing Eve, confident, but out of the loop, and Florian Alberge playing Adam, portrayed as a cocky young CEO-type. Their performances feature a rhythmic stomping sequence by Washington and her crew of human-children, contrasted by an explosive solo by Alberge done to the song, “Taking Care of Business.” His torso-based turns, dips and shivers propel him from upstage to downstage and back up again as his obtuse character becomes even more so with his new position of power. Eve continually questions his power, but is also subject to it, as Adam waltzes her away from the apple that inevitably gets eaten by you-know-who, prompting their rejection from the garden and into the rough urban environment represented by projections of New York City, the other Big Apple. The rest of the tale is history, but the dance circus holds a few new twists worth experiencing this weekend or next.

Because Genesis is such a fundamental story, triggering myriad associations in a highly charged religious and political environment, and potentially warranting an entire deconstruction of western culture, particularly in the global north, creating or engaging with a piece like SNaked is no easy task. SB Dance is to be commended for taking another bite out of this apple of a subject.

Emma Wilson is a recent graduate of the University of Utah with a BFA in Modern dance and a minor in Environmental Studies as well as in Portuguese and Brazilian Studies. She has written for loveDANCEMORE along with 15Bytes and creates socially and environmentally engaged dance-theater work.

The Penguin Lady in review

The Penguin Lady Presents, a night of choreography by Natosha Washington, premiered to a full crowd at the Rose Wagner Black Box Theater.  The show begins with a personal and heartfelt message that thanks the audience for coming to partake in an evening of dance, and asks us to connect with and acknowledge the seventeen dancer’s humanity, unique stories, and individuality.

The first piece of the night, Black Sheep, is danced by the Penguin Lady herself and is the standout piece of the evening.  Washington’s monologue is both hilarious and revealing as it echoes the vulnerability and strength of both the movement and mover.  Acknowledging struggles of race and body image experienced as a black dancer in Utah, Washington stands tall, emerging as confident and powerful.  The music by Tracie Morris serves as a reminder of the persistent struggle and static on the quest to self-realization and self-validation.  At one point she looks amusingly at the audience, cups a breast, then flaunts her backside as if to say, ‘Yes, I am here.  This is me. Get used to it.’

House of Timothy also stands out among the concerts nine works for its compositional and dramatic clarity.  This piece highlights a tumultuous relationship, and both Monica Campbell and Nathan Shaw dance with nuance and maturity.  It is impossible to look away as these two flawed individuals air their dirty laundry on stage, and really why should we? People have taken notice of this piece since it was honored by the American College Dance Festival Association and, like many of the pieces on the program, was a re-creation of a past work.

Early on the audience is told that the concert is inspired by the stories of the diverse and close-knit cast, some of whom deliver narrative text throughout the concert.  At times this is clear and at others, the compositional structure and choices fail the telling of these stories, and the intent becomes murky.  In IV we see Nathan Shaw and Tyler Kunz dance a tender duet that is important and relevant for the obvious reason that two men are highlighting a romantic relationship on stage.  They perform the piece with honesty and integrity.  However, the addition of Jennifer A. Beaumont and Monica Campbell distract this relationship and confuse the intent.  Perhaps their presence made sense when the personal narrative of the piece is taken into account, but as someone that does not have access to this narrative, their addition felt unnecessary.

The final piece of the evening, Exit From Eden, showcases sweeping vast movement and statuesque partnering.  Lush gestures often give way to meaningful looks into space, the performers searching for answers to their questions as well as new questions to answer. Partaking in these seventeen performers stories was a lovely way to spend a Thursday night in Salt Lake City and I recommend attending this weekend;  to dance is to speak, and I am glad for the chance to listen to the Penguin Lady.

Erica Womack teaches at SLCC, holds her MFA from the University of Utah and lives with her family in Sugarhouse.  

RawMoves: Babble review

Maybe I was the only person that didn't enjoy "The Story of Eight," RawMoves' prop-driven escapade of 2009. Then again, maybe I wasn't. But I think I had a unique reason for my dislike. 
I thought the poster for that show, which featured ropes and ladders and such, looked like the scene from a ship, I thought the title referred to pieces of eight and I assumed the show would be about pirates. Needless to say, I was mistaken and a little disappointed. I walked into this year's show with a taste of regret still on the tongue.  

Then, 

I was astounded. The first ten minutes of "Babble" fulfilled my need for textual banter and fast, classy moves. The dancing from this troupe is often fierce, but the choreography is not always this seamless and complex. I found my eye roving from one pair of cheeky fork-lovers to the next with gleams of anticipation. The text elements continued to push boundaries, striking an engaging balance between chaos and clarity. There were very impressive Russian sounding rants, a few lyrical motifs (When A Man Loves a Woman -- yes!!) and an incredible lack of gesture-driven phrases where dancers cover their mouths with their hands and sprinkle unsaid words to the ground like dust. 

The smaller ensemble dance sections were often quieter, but still enjoyable. Tyler Kunz left his paperwork behind for an evening and rattled us with a macabre solo. A notable trio engaged in a beautifully interwoven set of phrases. The larger ensemble pieces, especially the finale, fell a little flat in my opinion, though they were full of fine dancing. Perhaps too full. Arranged in cumbersome lines, the dancers seemed to tread water instead of stir the space. A fellow audience member mentioned that the dance sections seemed like the "safety net" in an otherwise daring show. 

I have always been impressed that choreographers Natosha Washington and Nicholas Cendese manage to find room in the busy SLC dance scene for their professionally produced, but small company. This year, my respect for them as choreographers has grown. Here's hoping that they keep surprising audiences for years to come. 

Kitty Sailer is a MFA candidate at the University of Utah