Dance at Memorial House, in review

A night of dance in a beautiful intimate setting, in this case the Memorial House, really gets my hopes up.  So as I walked through the doors for the recent loveDANCEmore event on March 22 I had one thought on my mind, “please don’t disappoint me.”  I am an unabashed lover of all things dance but I am not immune to that sinking feeling of witnessing a perhaps well conceived, but not well-executed dance event.  Happily this sensation was avoided, and I enjoyed an evening of stylistically diverse, meaningful movement.

Efren Corado’s piece, Song for One or More, was a well-crafted trio that brought to mind Cunningham’s work reflected by Corado’s use of pragmatic simultaneous movement.  Unlike Cunningham these three dancers each had their own take, their own nuance inside the movement. Constructed in mostly shifting formations of unison, it brought to mind the inner workings of a business, everyone doing the same basic things but in their own way revealing more of a power structure than that dreaded arts word — synergy.

In delightfully typical hurdy-gurdy meets Greek goddess manner, Amy Freitas and the improvisation collective Porridge for Goldilocks presented Porridge for Memories with sensitive pulsating music support from Wachira Waigwa-Stone.  Episodic and meandering through several vignettes, I wasn’t sure how everything connected together but I also didn’t care.  Each section was presented thoughtfully and uniquely.  Especially delightful was the quartet danced by Brooklyn Draper, Keanu Forrest Brady, Joshua Mora and Emma Wilson where they playfully responded to poetry by Nick Shifrar. Refusing to fall into traditional roles for his love poem, they swirled happily about, keeping the interpretation of the relationships open to a larger swath of possibilities.

True to form, Ashley Anderson’s witch dance was both hypnotic and mathematical.  Anderson’s choreography is unusual because rather than hiding choreographic tools hoping the audience doesn’t notice them, she lays the tools right in front of you and then insists that you consider them as being valid in their own right.  She is like the mathematician that loves the beauty of the proofs.  She wants you to love the structure of a dance and the reasons that make a dance beautiful and not just the ethereal results.  It takes dedication to invest in a dance like this and I appreciate that she challenges the audience rather than panders to a need for instant gratification.  In the end, a cognitive investment in her piece is richly rewarded as you eventually lose yourself in the beauty of the moment.

Kate Monson can be found teaching at BYU and presenting her own choreographic work, specifically through the On Site Mobile Dance Series, a loveDANCEmore program she created alongside Kori Wakamatsu.

Municipal Ballet at the State Room

Before the final performance of Municipal Ballet Co.’s “Oh Yeah! A Rock ‘n’ Roll Ballet,” Sarah Longoria, the company’s director, ended her curtain speech by sincerely thanking the uncommonly boisterous and large audience for taking a chance on ballet.  The challenge of getting the general public excited about performances is ever present in the minds and conversations of dancers and dance makers, especially those moving in the realm of concert dance.  As keepers of an art form often seen as unapproachably insular, we seem to endlessly brainstorm community involvement plans, collaborations, and outreach-based performances with the hope of enticing someone with nothing to do on a Saturday night to venture into a dance space and experience what we hope are interesting, challenging, even fun works of physical and artistic prowess.

Municipal Ballet Co. seems to have discovered the secret to drawing in an enthusiastic audience.  When I came to the State Room this past Saturday, the atypical dance venue was filled to the brim with chatty, excited viewers there to see the company’s evening length performance.  Sponsored by Craft Lake City, whose influence was apparent in the company’s screen printed posters and t-shirts, the show was a distinctly local venture. Quite literally every element of the evening was danced, choreographed, sung, made, or brewed with a Utah connection.  Seven Salt Lake City based dancers performed the choreography of a host of local choreographers to the music of Heber City’s Holy Water Buffalo.  This collection of performing artists held rehearsals open to the Salt Lake community at the downtown library.   The huge Municipal Ballet Co. sign in the lobby was created by SLC artist Trent Call.  The bar was even stocked with beers from Desert Edge Pub in Trolley Square and wines vented by Longoria’s family winery.  Their efforts at community involvement were clearly effective.  The venue was packed with a diverse mixture of casual balletomanes, Holy Water Buffalo fans, and even a few people who seemed to have wandered into the well-known State Street music venue.

Perhaps the secret to filling all those seats with excited viewers was stepping outside of traditional dance theaters.  Despite being designed with musicians in mind, the State Room made an enjoyably intimate dance space.  Keeping the practical, undraped stage of a music venue lent the evening a welcoming, casual quality that at times felt more like a house show than a formal performance.  Between sections, the dancers occupied an open rest area that mirrored the performance space of the band.  Just as you saw the musicians wiping the sweat from their faces and adjusting their instruments between songs, you viewed the intimate backstage moments and transitions usually hidden by black outs and curtains.  I found myself drawn to the often missed moments of preparation and rest: the exchange between partners after a pas de deux, one dancer’s charmingly untechnical knock-kneed resting position, or the focused stretching of a dancer steeling herself for an intense solo.  I would have appreciated seeing the unusual choice of venue acknowledged beyond the in-between moments and more in the actual dancing.  There seemed to be a lack of consideration for the venue’s limitations that, if utilized, could have added interest to the generally conventional use of space.

Maybe the Municipal Ballet Co.’s magic formula for drawing a crowd isn’t performing in a new space but is simply collaborating with a solidly talented rock band.  I must confess, I only recognized Holy Water Buffalo from occasional KRCL shout outs, but their youthful charm and impeccable, flowing manes à la Almost Famous easily won me over. The band brought silly stage banter and winning grins in spades. Their charisma was unavoidably engaging.  They even got a few eager ladies in the audience to start an impromptu auction for a communal sweat rag, surely a first for a dance concert.

Holy Water Buffalo’s joviality bled into the dancing, adding unabashed fun to choreography that was widely diverse in both style and success. Ranging from classical pas de deux straight out of a partnering class to sock-clad, slippery contemporary movement, “Oh Yeah!” employed a generally classical ballet vocabulary accented by detailed gestural phrases.  Much of the choreography didn’t match the live music’s verve, seeming like a loosely connected addition rather than an integral part of the overall performance. There were two bright exceptions, a trio choreographed by Jessica Liu and a duet by Sayoke Knode. Both of these sections took a cue from the music’s spirit and played in a sunny, smooth quality with brilliant, precise movement.  As the dancers wove themselves into intricate, sliding partnerships, it seemed as if an elaborate game of Chutes and Ladders was coming to life.  Both sections featured Jessica Liu and Brian Nelson, dancers that possessed a vividness and clarity that managed to escape cold correctness.  They were delightfully uninhibited and supremely connected to the musicians. Cynthia Jackson also stood out, bringing a relaxed precision and liveliness to all her movements.

Ballet is too often a dance form stereotyped as at best uptight and at worst old-fashioned.  As the last of the ten sections began, the lead singer for Holy Water Buffalo jokingly referenced this when he advised the audience, “Be quiet… The dancers are here!” The response of the dancers to the singer’s quip is likely the real secret to Municipal Ballet Co.’s success.  All seven, with joyful ease, laughed as they took their starting positions and began to dance.

Mary Lyn Graves is a member of the Ririe Woodbury Dance Company

This review is published in collaboration with 15 BYTES. For more on upcoming dance and music collaborations check out theMarch edition.

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.

Parsons Dance

Parsons Dance Company is the model home of eighties contemporary dance. It is inoffensive in every possible way. If you are looking for a dance experience that is easily digestible and classic, that was Parsons Dance Company Saturday performance at the Park City Eccles Center for the Performing Arts. If you are a member of the more diverse and eclectic dance audience of Salt Lake, the show could be considered bland.

That being said, the beauty of Parsons Dance is that they are form based and that is beautiful, and valid in its own right. Parsons has sprinkled pantomime throughout the show to keep things feeling more playful than just a display of technique. That makes the show more approachable. The form that dominates the show and is obviously Parsons’ primary focus is the epitome of old school contemporary dance. It does not become extreme enough to fall into one particular category of classic modern dance technique or ballet. In fact, the movement is so ambiguous I was wondering if Parsons’ even had an esthetic or just a marketable way of constructing bodies in space. His look is classical and respectable in every possible way without again being too risky. Even the unexpected leaps by the male dancers are not accented enough to draw attention away from the smooth pirouettes of the female dancers.

The one scene where Parsons breaks from his signature, melodic movement and slow fading colorful backlight is to showcase a single male dancer with strobes. The piece breaks away from Parsons’ classic, fully light, proscenium to fleeting bursts of light and total darkness. The soloist is impressive because he times his leaps and bounces perfectly with the lighting to never be seen standing on the ground. This is different from the rest of Parsons’ show. However, just as the pantomime fell short of forming a complete thought that challenges the audience, this piece falls short of being anything more than an impressive display of a man’s timing and altitude.

All of this polite crowd pleasing culminates in a very agreeable show, the same way strolling through a spotlessly clean model home is a pleasant way to spend an afternoon. It is easy brain candy. I for one would rather spend my time in a hundred year old home with floors that creak, because it has character, it is not easy to digest, it makes me think outside the ticky tack of the model home and I like it that way. Both are valid choices; if you prefer to keep things simple, sit back and enjoy some beautiful form and by all means I will recommend this show. However, if you want to chew on something and mull it over for days after the show, don’t bother: it was not a memorable dance experience.

Natalie Graves is a SLC-based dance artist

The Mitch Show & Rose’s “Globe Trot”

Amongst the many dance events this weekend, The Mitch Show was an anomaly involving prescribed dance performance pieces enacted by unsuspecting audience members, as well as screenings of some of Mitchell Rose’s short films. This is not the first time that Repertory Dance Theater has lured Rose to Salt Lake, but usually it has been to choreograph dance works for the company. This time Rose returned, eschewing the label of choreographer in favor of his current occupation as a mostly comedic filmmaker who frequently works with dancers. His compositional aesthetic seems to be influenced by his former choreographic style. He is probably most well known for his film collaborations with Body Vox, a Portland-based dance company with a lineage including people from Pilobolus and Momix.

The Mitch Show began with Rose’s voice on the theater’s speakers telling the audience to take out their phones, call one another, and leave a loud and complimentary message for their friend. It was a grandiose exercise in getting an audience to be accountable for their part in the show and to get people to turn off their phones after “getting it out of their systems.” The show proceeded with Rose revealing himself onstage as the trope of a reliable talk show host, a little desperate for validation, but reassuring in the fact that he had done this many times and knew where we might have confusion as audience members.

He had everyone stand up while he read out demographic information; we were directed to sit down after hearing something that applied to us. He chose to highlight differences based on whether or not we used aquafresh toothpaste or went ice-skating last winter. These things at first seemed pretty benign and funny to think about, but eventually some more basic demographic qualities began to emerge with statements like, “sit down if you rode TRAX today” or “sit down if you got a tattoo within the last year.” I can’t really remember who sat down when, but I got a sense of there being general differences in the audience that I sometimes take for granted. It was interesting to realize that everyone wanted to stay standing at first, but the longer one stood, the more they wanted to sit down with the rest of us. It wasn’t a huge surprise that a young boy was the last one standing having had fewer life experiences and less inhibition about being singled out. The show continued with these kinds of participation pieces that brought out the exhibitionist/performer in many people; however, Rose carefully controlled the activities to keep himself in the lime-light and to prevent indulgent tangents on behalf of the audience participants. A lot of his jokes felt heavy-handed when coupled with campy projections to prompt the audience and an audience who was encouraged to ham it up for the sake of the show.

Rose interspersed the live pieces with screenings of some of his short films. It became clear that, although Rose seems enthusiastic about his performance in The Mitch Show, his charismatic charm is much more evident in the cinematic choices that he’s made. Many of his works are playful, but are imbued with a keen sense of the capacities of the human heart. There was a romantic duet between a man and a giant excavator, a sarcastic film called “Learn to Speak Body,” and a charming film about people with sleep disorders that don’t actually exist. After attending his screening of “Globe Trot,” I was reminded of the meticulous work that filmmaking entails. It is interesting to think that most art forms deal with similar compositional ideas—how a piece is framed, proximity, line, texture, and flow—but limitations vary with the art form and the medium being used. Rose touched on this when he discussed his excitement about Advance. The film is simply a man and a woman swiftly walking away while also dancing, but their location changes every couple of seconds. Rose said that it would be difficult to get an audience to see this perspective unless you had them swiftly walk behind the dancers, which could be interesting, but not very accessible for all.

I appreciated the inspirational nature of “Globe Trot”––a dance film choreographed by Bebe Miller and produced by Mitchell Rose along with many filmmakers from around the world. Each videographer was instructed to teach two seconds of sophisticated choreography to strangers and film them completing the task in public places. The process involved headache-inducing coordination about how to film each person in order to make the dance look cohesive. The film ends with everyone gleefully turning in a circle with their arms above their heads. Each person was separated into a little screen, creating a grid of people, unified by movement. This particular part was uplifting in a similar way that a commercial for a cell phone company is uplifting because they both highlight human connectivity in a world where many groups are at odds with one another. This commercial aesthetic was apparent in a few of Rose’s films creating a sense of artifice because those techniques are also used in schemes aimed at selling something. Mitchell Rose is also selling his ideas and world views in exchange for recognition and online followers, not necessarily for monetary gain. His work is conventionally inspirational, but commendable for his perseverance and willingness to play.

Emma Wilson is a dance student at the University of Utah. She has frequently shown work at Mudson and works administratively for loveDANCEmore.