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.  

Rhythm Migration featuring Fara Tolno: African Dance, Drum and Song

The show opened with an eclectic vibration of powerful sound, emanating from the beautiful hands of Fara Tolno, the guest artist of the night. Jolting hand gestures and the shaking of dreadlocks added a playful, yet rigorous attitude to the sounds of his djembe. Fara Tolno electrified the stage with his opening drum call, paying homage to the African ancestors before the show began.

As the show progressed, we saw moments of traditional dances– rites of passage, drum circles with song, an impromptu drum battle between Fara Tolno and Quinn Reesor, and a Modern-infused African dance piece. We witnessed a beautiful vocal rendition by Ms. Eunice Odarkey Lampley of a song resounding the loss of her children during the “torturous activities of the Slave Trade.” accompanied by Wachira Waigwa-Stone and Fara Tolno. We also saw dances from the Ivory Coast, Guinea and Congo. The show captured the vibrancy of color and heritage through traditional garb (dashikis and boubous) and excellent lighting that punctuated the black box theatre. I appreciated Fara Tolno’s closing talk, which illuminated his life story, cultural heritage and the starting of his own arts foundation in Guinea.

Unfortunately, as a social researcher, I was underwhelmed. I am deeply disturbed by the cultural appropriation of African Dance as a form of entertainment in this show. It seemed like the dancers were “dressing up” without critically looking at their position, as an overwhelmingly white cast, in relation to the cultural context of Continental Africa. Why were all the dancers smiling in every piece, when it didn’t seem to ask for it? These facial expressions created a disconnect from the authenticity of Africanist aesthetics in concert dance.  The facial expressions of the movers did not quite fit the coolness of the form, and evoked an overly dramatic, show tune aesthetic. At times, there seemed to be a lack of precision, “cool” virtuosity and groundedness in the dancer’s bodies– all of which are essential to the vitality of African Dance.

It seemed that this show catered to an overwhelmingly white audience with the intention of providing a PBS version of African Dance in culture that lacked deep awareness and empathy for African bodies in concert dance. It was too pre-packaged and relied heavily on Modern Dance vocabulary to tell its story. I appreciate the efforts of all of the movers and drummers involved, but the show as a whole missed the mark for me, in terms of providing a wholesome depiction of African culture and context. We need to look deeply at our own biases, privileges and disparities when we are placing a non-Western culture at the center of the stage, and to appreciate it on its own terms, not on ours.

Yasin A. Fairley is a graduate student in the dance department at the University of Utah. He’s recently performed locally with Porridge for Goldilocks and in Ririe-Woodbury’s Momentum.

Dance at the 6th Annual Craft Lake City DIY Festival

At Craft Lake City 2014, there was much dance to be had. If you missed the show, check out this video. Below is a review from Amy Falls, visiting from NYC.

It was with pleasure that I made my way downtown to the annual Craft Lake City DIY Festival this Saturday August 9th, excited to see some outdoor dance while vacationing from New York City. Craft Lake City has, to the delight of local performers and audiences alike, come to present a wide variety of local dance acts in addition to its namesake do-it-yourself wares. A host of disciplines graced the Graywhale Entertainment Stage over the course of Saturday’s performance schedule, including modern dance, ballet, and belly dancing. For the sake of this review, I shall only be including the performance acts that fell mostly within the modern dance category (time constraints did not allow me to arrive until after some other acts had already performed).

Samuel Hanson’s trio for two women and one man was first after I arrived. All three in black dresses, the dancers signalled, undulated, and posed, engaging in series of complex gestures that changed levels swiftly and deftly. The dancers’ moments in motion read like a waving reef of undersea anemones while their instances of stillness assumed a statuesque royalty. Joshua Mora remained a stalwart presence throughout, though his exciting slide across the stage in front of the two women presented a satisfying change. Amy Freitas’ spirited joy and Katherine Adler’s crisp specificity imbued added depth throughout Hanson’s existing structure.

Karin Fenn, performing alongside her daughter Linda Tausala Frank, transformed the stage space into a lazy summer porch scene. The two slumped lethargically in opposite-facing chairs as sounds of an old radio crackling emerged from the speakers. Modern moves came with a vintage twist and an indolent sensuality, as the two women clasped their hands up high and lazily “did the stanky leg” of pop culture renown.

Katherine Adler and Samantha Matsukawa wove a charmed tale to three renditions of the Bob Dylan tune “In the Pines.” The two command space and presence both with their gazes and nonchalant yet virtuosic movement sensibilities. Adler and Matsukawa made the welcomed choice to jump off the stage mid-piece, running barefoot toward the audience on the sun-warmed red bricks in front. Weighted arabesques that crumpled in upon themselves demonstrated Adler and Matsukawa’s ability to skim gracefully on top of movement or to allow it to settle deeply within their skeletal structures. While no specific narrative was apparent, the two performers created structure with their interactive intent and the weaving together of musical sections. One final resonating ball change impelled the two off stage, apt punctuation for their neatly crafted duet.

Movement Forum, familiarly known as MoFo, displayed a smattering of skillful partnering and floor work. The rainbow-clad dancers wove between each other, popping around and pausing as a respite from the driving musical score. While I assumed that the work presented was improvised, given the group’s mission statement, recurring motifs such as a hover lift between the Nancy Carter and the Kat Kubichek Martinez provided anchors throughout. The ability to make conscious decisions regarding the overall piece’s thread aids outside viewers in accessing improvisation, and MoFo understands this well.

The last performance I saw was the debut work of newly-formed company Triptych Figures. Co-founders and performers Brooklyn Draper, Joshua Mora, and Monica Remes began with co-existing solo work. This morphed into seamless unison and then continued on as a distinct trio. While the three displayed their prowess as movers, I found the introduction of political voiceovers about tar sands extraction to be abrupt and difficult to relate to the movement unfolding onstage. Flyers advertising websites for the anti-tar-sands-extraction movement were handed out to the audience. Modern dance, still accused of being insular and self-indulgent, could use activism as its noble partner, and as Utahns, we additionally appreciate the grandeur of our land. However as an audience member, I crave a work in which elements actively collaborate, rather than just exist on the same temporal plane. The company defines a triptych as consisting of a set of three things intended to be appreciated together, and I look forward to seeing Triptych Figures hone in on this in works to come.

It was wonderful to see local dancers and choreographers presenting work in an environment such as Craft Lake City. Being a part of the festival atmosphere with its wide array of attendees helps to further establish modern dance as a viable participant in Salt Lake City’s culture.

Amy Falls is a dancer, choreographer and performer based in Brooklyn, NY, where she has recently worked administratively with artists such as Keith Thompson.

Porridge for Goldilocks at the Urban Arts Festival

Porridge for Goldilocks has become quite an impressive group of dancers. They performed last Saturday at the Urban Arts Festival at the Gateway, accompanied by Wachira Waigwa-Stone. As much as I loathe going to the mall, I am glad that I forced myself this one time. The ensemble possesses stylistic variety that seems organic, though I suspect it has cost a lot of effort on the part of instigator Amy Freitas.

If you had described to me what I would see there I might not have wanted to go. The dancers, who reflexively refer to themselves and each other as “bears,” warmed-up to the side of the little stage as an impromptu dance party for festival attendees wound down. One by one, Porridge entered during a Queen song, which I initially thought to be interlude music provided by the festival emcee. The song cut out, and they dancers and Waigwa-Stone (who’d just finished setting up his drum kit) carried the tune to its conclusion. From there, they segued into other familiar improvisation devices and tricks: flocking, solos, dance against text and poetic manifestos of art-making and identity.

Again, if you’re as jaded as I am, this probably sounds like the kind of thing worth avoiding. That’s not how it actually felt at all. Sitting there, watching that particular group of people, I knew I was seeing some of the most talented and interesting dancers in Utah. They were figuring out how to participate in a collaborative situation that I would never put myself in because I have lost faith in such things. And yes, it was somewhat unfocused and disorganized as a “piece”. But it wasn’t really a “piece” so much as a structured jam. What I am trying to say is that it was very successful as that, a jam turned inside out, so that the ecstatic experience of dancing in a room full of fascinating peers was somewhat visible and palpable to the audience.

The cultivation of a mini-community like this takes a lot of work. I imagine that much of this is undertaken by Freitas. Also indispensable here are Waigwa-Stone’s unique skills as a musician attuned to the vicissitudes of dance. I hope opportunities to be on stage like this one will help to keep some of these very talented dancers here in Utah. I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Samuel Hanson is the New Media Coordinator for loveDANCEmore and also writes about dance for SLUG.

Dinomato at Sugar Space

You may have seen an excerpt of Ching-I Chang’s “Dinomato” at the recent “Daughters of Mudson” showcase. The piece was reviewed in SLUG and for the blog alongside 15 BYTES.  As a producer of Daughters of Mudson it’s uncharacteristic of me to write about the piece–– it’s certainly hard to be neutral about something one had a stake in. While it wasn’t my creative work nor my creation, it did have my name attached to  it. That said, I have to confess that upon the first viewing I agreed more with Karin Fenn’s criticisms than I did Danell Hathaway’s praise for the excerpt Ching-I presented as part of the group showcase in the Rose Wagner. In it’s original, excerpted viewing, I felt alienated from the narrative. The title indicated to me that the piece explored boredom, and my knee-jerk reaction was that it was unfair to ask the audience to be subjected to boredom for no apparent reason. My opinion shifted after seeing the work in its entirety at Sugar Space this past weekend. The full version of Ching-I’s work left me noticing small details, the tenderness and harshness which can be shared among dancing partners, and the nature of bewilderment.

“Dinomato” takes its inspiration in part from Andy Warhol and his use of iconic imagery and bland repetition. The audience gathers outside and our narrator, Efren Corado Garcia, appears to tell us what may unfold. He lifts paper to reveal the interior of a small alcove in the theater where we see Temria Airmet and Tara McArthur wearing white dance garb and Andy Warhol wigs while they rearrange cans of tomato soup. Already this felt more fresh for me as a viewer than the previous iteration at “Daughters”. Because we were shown a small glimpse through a window, it felt we were let into a secret that before felt distant and unexplored. I was drawn into the fractured narrative that would unfold and was physically close to my peers in the audience as we were led into a space too small to hold us. Efren soon handed us photos of dinosaur skeletons as a welcome gift and led us into the more forgiving space of the theater. The seats were sparse and in the round, as the audience chose carefully their vantage point Tara and Temria traced vague imagery onto opposite walls with their bodies.

An improvisation followed with each dancer performing solos based on emotive words chosen at random by audience members from a stack of paper. I have a name for dances of this sort, BOSSWIP: Based on Secret Words Written in Private. My dance professor in college invented the term and I’ve tended toward being critical of dances which presume that we should know or care what imaginary terms had helped craft the movements we were seeing. Yet, something about the visual design and the allure of the trio of performers transcended my expectation of what the improvisation would look like. It was clear that Tara drew a card that said “desperate”. Her sad and desperate dance drew me in. On the other end of the spectrum I had no idea what Efren drew but his precise and smooth impersonation of a potato being peeled made me want to know.

Once again the audience was led somewhere new, this time the lobby where Tara and Efren danced a sad duet featuring an upturned couch and the sense that one performer was leaving the other. The walls were covered in curious figures made by Ching-I, as well as two large faces on the wall, one full of color and texture, the other empty. Efren led us past the record player and behind the black traveler. Being a dancer walking through the traveler was a familiar feeling, but the curiosity still built as we emerged on the other side to Temria throwing soup spoons off of a loft onto the floor. Back in the stage space there was more dancing, more soup, more posturing and more text about topics to which the audience wasn’t exactly privy.

I left fundamentally interested in the three curious figures who led me through Sugar Space in a way I’ve never seen it despite having viewed a good bit of dance there. I left wondering how and why they made the dancers made their choices to interact with one another which is, for better or worse, something I think about nearly every day with everyone I see. I left imagining whether the little universe they’ve created is something that Ching-I will continue to explore, and I hope that’s the case.

Dinomato from Jeremy Bigelow on Vimeo.

Ashley Anderson is the director of loveDANCEmore programs through her non-profit, ashley anderson dances.