Innovations at the Rose

Ballet West’s annual Innovations series opened this past weekend, showcasing work by company artists alongside Jessica Lang. As always, the evening presents wide ranging approaches which will expand next year with a new National Choreographic Festival and a move of Innovations to Park City where it will be re-titled, Works from Within.

The evening opens with new work by Principal Artist Christopher Ruud. “In Memoriam” echoes Ruud’s strengths from previous commissions, namely an ability to highlight individuals within group structures. Throughout the dance an older woman (Barbara Barrington Jones) revisits herself as a girl, teen, college woman, and wife in an abusive relationship. In each vignette Jones opens a dresser drawer containing nostalgic objects (a graduation hood, a veil) and retreats to observe soloists representing each life-stage who are framed by groups of passing men. In some ways the male framing of a female narrative flips ballet’s expectations (mostly women surrounding heteronormative partnering) but in others, the story remains expected. For example, when Jacqueline Straughan’s character falls into a violent pas de deux it’s not her own self worth that drives the conclusion, it’s being rescued by a new partner.

Music commissioned by Jared Oaks adds sentimentality, particularly when Katlyn Addison appears to usher Jones into an afterlife, generously opening a final dresser drawer the audience never sees inside. Ruud’s comments on aging are more narratively dramatic than they are in some dance counterparts including the multigenerational repertory of Liz Lerman and relatively new documentaries featuring performances by aging bodies.

The second act presented works by three new contributors to Innovations, beginning with “Barre Spot” by Christopher Sellars. With live piano and saxophone, the work is a play on a jazz bar and explores musical theatre idioms within formalized ballet structures. Without a core narrative, the work shares passing duets and trios that cycle in and out of the attention of the audience. The dance is light-hearted and left me wanting to see more of Sellars’ point of view.

I’m also left wanting more of Oliver Oguma’s “Fragments of Simplicity,” a dance with three sections to Chinese violin. A duet between Alex MacFarlan and Jordan Veit is subtle and the dancers curiously explore twinning with slow movements and articulate backs changing slowly to reveal new perspectives. Latter sections with a female ensemble and a pas de deux are less explored and the strength of the work is in the early representation of a potential for male bodies to be virtuosic even in stillness and gentleness.

The final work in the act, Trevor Naumann’s “Homer: a study in phenomenological ontology,” represents a radically different point of view not only due to overt philosophical ideas but also, choreographic approach. A commissioned score by Boaz Roberts lends itself toward contemporary ballet’s frequent employ of atonal electronic ambience and the dancers move frantically in nude unitards reminiscent of Martha Clarke’s “Garden of Earthly Delights.” Later, becoming dressed, the pairings begin to isolate particular dancers as an effort to consider titular objectives: studies of experiences and studies of being.

What the title may overlook is that ballet can already be viewed as a quite literal embodiment of phenomenology and a way to study ourselves in relationship to our experiences. There are perhaps few performative wonders that compare to a traditional corps de ballet balancing en pointe in relatively immobile formations and there are equally few scenarios where an audience can experience themselves kinesthetically in relationship to externalized experiences. This notion of physicalized wonder has weaved its way into many phenomenological dialogues, including a beautiful book on the aesthetics of rare experiences.

The only way choreographer Trevor Naumann might further flip a phenomena-based dialogue within the form would be to more completely invert audience expectation in relationship to our identification of ballet as a form. In this case the only thing I can think of would be for one of the principal women to sit center stage casually consuming a bag of potato chips while the house lights are up.

“Lyric Pieces” by Jessica Lang closes the show on a more traditional but inventive note and thankfully shares the viewpoints of at least one female choreographer among an otherwise entirely male program.* The dance takes place among folding paper sculptures that generate scenic interest and create unique entrances and exits. A great victory of the dance is that I thought there was a cast of twenty. Instead, the curtain call revealed that it was only eight dancers who tricked me into seeing vastness as they created lengthy pathways, found hiding places and directed one another in alternating silly and poetic tasks.

Artistic Director Adam Sklute aptly described Lang’s choreography as straightforward  and suggested that her dances follow a logic making their conclusions inevitable. In my sense of delight and anticipation in “Lyric Pieces,” this was certainly true.

Ashley Anderson is the director of loveDANCEmore events as part of her non-profit ashley anderson dances.  loveDANCEmore reviews are co-published with 15 BYTES.

*Let me preempt common complaints about this variety of feminist critique in dance: yes this choreographic platform relies on women to opt in and if they don’t it can be said there is simply a lack of interest among the particular group, but mathematically it’s murkier. In a company of 40 dancers with 24 women (60%) and 16 men (40%) there is less than a 2.5% probability that all four choreographers would be male in a randomized selection. In recent iterations of Innovations there has never been more than one company woman on the bill and in that equation it’s still less than an 8% probability that only one woman would be selected in a randomized process. These percentages reveal that some systematic bias is present, however unintentional. It’s important to ask questions about where the remaining 97.5% likelihood shifts: is it women’s greater satisfaction with the roles they are given which creates a lack of desire to choreograph? Do women have greater challenges within that same repertory which diminish the time and energy it may take to engage in a choreographic process? Are there characteristics seen as valuable to ballerinas which are characteristics less likely to be present in a large cross-section of choreographers? Past works by Emily Adams and Katlyn Addison have been strong contributions to the Innovations platform and in writing, I wonder what conditions would it take for more women to rise within those same ranks?  

RDT Link: W.A.L.N.U.T.

Justin Bass is the latest local artist, and RDT company member, to take advantage of the RDT Link Series which allows dance makers to access studio and performance space. Justin presented a new trio, “W.A.L.N.U.T.” in the West Studio over the weekend and with lights donated by the University of Utah formalizing the intimate space, there was an openness and sense of possibility. With dancers who were technically precise and committed to the process, that sense was further amplified. As I was leaving I overheard Justin explaining the title’s  acronym but averted my ears as I’d made up my own possibilities while watching:

Women are limitless, never underestimate them.

What about letting nothing ulterior takeover?  

When are labels needlessly under-taken?

The movement of the all female trio alternated between what feels good to do and what feels fierce to do. Both make sense in context of movement generation in Justin’s living room to Santigold’s 99 Cents. But the dance’s content shifted in a formal direction with Justin opting to stage the material to Terry Riley’s “In C.” There is some humor in the fact that it was a suggestion by Daniel Charon to seek new music that led him to “In C” on Spotify; Charon also choreographed recently to the piece for Ririe Woodbury. Near the end, “W.A.L.N.U.T.” became a bit overwhelmed by the full length of the score but for the most part it’s momentous loops served to drive the material.

All of the dancers (Elle Johansen, Elyse Jost and Tiana Lovett) are deeply physically invested in the choreographic process which will continue to unfold throughout the year with a later performance to be determined. Each dancer has the ability to move in ways that are equal parts intense and cavalier which served Justin’s aesthetic and maintained my interest during long solos and fleeting duets.

As the work develops I consider that its main concern will be continuing to locate itself in a public way; a gestural nature and close community of creators risks insulating it’s current magic if it develops inwardly instead of outwardly.  

Ashley Anderson is the director of loveDANCEmore events as part of her non-profit ashley anderson dances.  loveDANCEmore reviews are co-published with 15 BYTES.

REVERE in review

April 14th marked opening night for Repertory Dance Theatre’s Revere, the culminating performance of their 50th anniversary season. In this show, RDT pays tribute to Jose Limon, a Mexican American who is attributed to both developing early modern dance and shifting the portrayal of the male dancer. The show opens with Suite From Mazurkas (1958), accompanied by pianist Vassily Primakov, and was created as a tribute to the strength of the Polish people after World War II. The show closes with the masterpiece Missa Brevis (1958) featuring music by Zoltan Kodaly sung live by the Salt Lake Vocal Artists. Limon is said to have been questioning his religion at this time, while simultaneously being inspired by people rebuilding their communities after the devastation and destruction of World War II.      

Suite From Mazurkas is predominantly comprised of solos and duets, showcasing the company’s ability to shine in the classical Limon technique. Efren Corado Garcia anchors the piece with his gift of weight and abandon in the section Solo (Opus 59, No.2), which is a somber and contemplative departure from the more upbeat and light vignettes. Corado’s final move is a bow to the pianist, but unlike the previous dances, any formality or choreographed reverence is eliminated. His entire being pays homage to the music that seemingly served as a lifeline. We watch these classical works against the backdrop of what has come after, and classical modern dance can often feel presentational, with all movements held at a formal and theatrical distance. This simple bow echoes a more undone, yet still highly structured moment.

Lauren Curley shines in Solo (Posthumous A Minor). She embodies the necessary clarity in both movement and spatial design that Limon technique requires, combined with a nuanced and specific musicality. RDT names themselves as a living museum, which is equal parts commendable and challenging when one considers the varied styles and aesthetics that have developed in the 100 years plus of modern dance.  In this concert of Limon works, the company is strong and competent proving that a living museum can indeed breath new life and relevance into works made in 1958.

Missa Brevis reads more narratively than Mazurkas, with Efren Corado Garcia finding the plight of an outsider as a cohesive community creates and rebuilds. University of Utah dancers complete the cast of 21 and hold their own with more seasoned company members. The choreography is rich with subtlety and texture, harmony and careful contrast, and includes a male jumping sequence so powerful that the theater walls were almost pushed away. Ursula Perry stands out with her powerful yet yielding physicality, and Corado performs with such heart that it is impossible to sit as a passive observer. This piece succeeds in its grandeur and scale, and is a timeless piece of dance history.

Thankfully Salt Lake City has a varied and abundant dance community, with performances to chose from practically every weekend. With Repertory Dance Theatre performing on the heels of Ririe Woodbury, it is hard to not to compare the two companies and their diverse programming. Seeing works that were made almost 60 years ago in this show in contrast to works that were created as premieres in RW’s show bring up questions of what is (or will be) timeless, and what is merely a stepping stone to a more distilled product. For example, will the unapologetic dissonance that we have experienced in the recent works of Joanna Kotze and Netta Yerushalmy one day be performed in the living museum alongside the more formal and highly structured works RDT has presented by Jose Limon and his contemporaries, including Doris Humphrey, and Helen Tamiris?  And will there be dancers capable of traveling through all the genres of modern dance as we know them now, or even 50 years from now? Time will tell.   

Erica Womack is a Salt Lake based choreographer who regularly contributes to loveDANCEmore, she also teaches dance at SLCC. Her new work "Music and Dance" will be presented at the State Room April 29th. 

REVERE concludes tonight, Saturday April 16th at the Rose Wagner. 

This review is shared with 15 BYTES, Utah's Visual Art Magazine. 

YOU at the Rose

YOU, an immersive, interactive dance production choreographed by Graham Brown is running a total of six times at the Rose Wagner Black Box over this last weekend of January.  This performance invites the audience member you, (andme) to enter into the space and play a role in what is taking place.

My night started with doing the kid hand off with my husband (who made it just in time), picking up a friend who wanted confirmation that her pants were cute (they were), and scoring the perfect parking space right in front of the Rose. Together we walked into a completely open black box theatre where groups of people were dancing as if at a club, while others stood on the sides and watched or talked amongst themselves.  I wanted to dance so I did, my friend wasn’t as inclined, so we talked while I shook my shoulders and moved my feet to the beat.  The space was littered with everyday objects from home life; a fridge, a bed, a couch, clothes, a handwritten note…and we were free to rummage and explore.  I found an electric bill for $35 and thought that seemed pretty low; must be a small house or apartment.  It was refreshing to see several children at the show, and the loud music and free structure absorbed any extra noise or irreverence.

Suddenly the group that was dancing in the middle of the room started into unison choreography, a scene that I wish for every time I go out dancing.  The movement is a blend of the release common in Utah’s modern dance scene alongside what you may see at a rave. Eventually this dissipates, and at one point the words of a song are passed out and we all sing together as one group. Even though I was unsure of the tune and don’t sing well, I liked this, it made me feel connected to this impromptu community.  Little vignettes of everyday life start to unfold; a babysitter reads a bedtime story, someone makes an agitated phone call, a couple juggles the care of a child. Several things are happening at once and it’s hard to know what to watch.  I didn’t want to miss anything important, but at the same time am grateful for the dimensionality of the space.

The four main characters, Keanu Brady, Mikayla Ellison, Shawnee Jo Haycock and Jersey Reo Riemo move smoothly between the roles of dancer and actor, performer and pedestrian.  One moment they are developing a story line and the next they are asking an audience member join them in a dance.  Although I was enjoying all the pop-up scenes at one point I began to ask myself ‘what exactly is at stake here?’  Then, as if on cue, a more developed vignette appeared: Brady and Ellison at a table for two experiencing the passage of time in the form of love, passion, stress, alienation, children, frustration, adoration, tantrums…family.  The relationship between these two is very clear and emotionally moving, at one point in the show they again experience the passage of time and life in general through rapid and continuous wardrobe changes.  Less narratively clear, but deeply physically embodied, is the relationship between Haycock and Riemo.  These two fill the space with undulating torsos, quick aggressive strikes of hands and legs, and playful stances and breaks.

The evening culminated with what we all need: a hug.  A really long hug.  As the performers hugged I could feel that the intent was for us, the audience, to break down a barrier and hug one another.  We had shared an evening together: dancing, watching, and singing.  I wanted to hug the friends that I was standing next to, and I craved the human interaction that I saw the performers experiencing, but as no one else that I could see in the audience was taking the cue I let the moment pass.  Maybe I’ll just have to go tomorrow night to get my hug in.  You should go as well.  In fact, maybe I’ll see YOU there.

Erica Womack is a choreographer based in Salt Lake who also teaches at SLCC.

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.