Bill T. Jones at the Eccles Center

Six panels of white marley hang in front of the traveler at the back of the stage.
They begin to skim the floor and cover a central space without quite reaching the lip.
Interlocking foam shapes lay waiting.
So does a small white table with carefully placed microphones.   
The physical and electronic instruments of Nick Hallett and Emily Manzo are to the right. Company members are invisible, preparing and bracing for a dance in new altitude.

"Analogy/Dora: Tramontane" photographed by Paul B. Goode

It was a dream for Park City Institute Director Teri Orr as she stood before the Eccles Center sharing the many attempts that got Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company to Park City. As the show began, Bill took the stage to introduce “Analogy/Dora: Tramontane.” More disarming than a descriptive program, a choreographer inviting you to share in material is an excellent way to begin.

In his introduction Bill described how he came to interview Dora Amelan about her experiences in World War II. Dora's son, Bjorn Amelan, is the decor designer for "Analogy/Dora" and recently married to Bill; in Bill’s re-telling, Bjorn began to notice that as Dora aged, new stories emerged conversationally. Bill is no stranger to telling stories, particularly those of individuals moving through trial or tragedy. His body of work existing very much in relationship to broad social histories.*

“Analogy/Dora…” began with dancers creating tableaus by manipulating the interlocking foam pieces. The foam shapes formed windows, doorways, roofs, and other boundaries. Some of these tableaus could have been lifted from Jones’ other works, many including the same sizeable narrative arcs and containing equally abstract, precise and formal movement.

As the dance went on, the foam pieces continued intermittent transitions but were accompanied by interview texts. For an avid dance-goer it’s easy to recount a handful of pieces in this vein, most accompanied by a muffled recording or a singular and heavy monologue. Bill’s strategy was different, and more compelling: the dancers traded roles of Dora and Bill allowing her storytelling to ripple among the cast. This method of delivery also simulated the architecture on stage, reaching the audience in a collective way. When the story is displaced from its origins (a single Jewish teenager in France) the diversity of the cast in both race and physicality contributes to the concept of a shared narrative. The company make-up also lends itself toward the second and third installments of “Analogy,” which is a proposed trilogy exploring different personal histories.

Both the content and shared telling are at times didactic but at other times revelatory as the audience assigns how a narrative unfolds given our own assumptions and experiences. For example, one may bristle depending on which company member is the Gestapo, which is Dora’s sister in the hospital after a failed abortion, which is a parent, or which is Dora herself. The architecture also crossed into potential pedanticism because the pieces could have been, although they were not, placed in the form of a swastika. This line between instructive and illuminating is one Bill’s work often straddles whether for better or worse.

Throughout “Analogy,” a live score included traditional French and German songs and periodically interrupted the text with electronic music, allowing Bill’s signature movements to take center stage. These solely moving sections were striking as they exacerbated tension through full bodied vibrations and dispelled the same tension through sweeping yet distilled phrase material.

Met with a standing ovation, “Analogy/Dora” clearly reached its audience. As I exited through the expansive theater I remained curious not just about the work itself but also about the mode of presentation on the Wasatch Front. Most of my peers were ambling to their cars and heading back to Salt Lake or Utah County. The Eccles Theatre beautifully framed the work, but I wonder how vital dances by iconic choreographers could be more effectively presented by participation between additional arts partners.

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

Most reviews on loveDANCEmore are also shared on 15 BYTES. 

*Most recently the company tackled the history of Lincoln which, along with another earlier take on “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” has been documented by PBS extending their documentation to broad audiences. The company has also created numerous works exploring the AIDS epidemic and terminal illness including “Still/Here,” which sparked a “victim art” debate after New Yorker critic Arlene Croce refused to review the piece.

Capturing on Camera

The third annual Utah Dance Film Festival, held at Utah Valley University, showcases much more than just Utah County filmmakers. Rapidly growing each year, the festival showcased 40 dance films representing 12 different countries, all demonstrating a wide range of cinematography and creativity.

The films shown at the 1:30 afternoon screening proved that dance can have a different definition and interpretation depending on the filmmaker. The showing began with “The Postman” by Big Door (the winner of the 24-Hour Film Competition). In this film, happy-go-lucky turned creepy, and dance was never the main focus. Rather, the creators incorporated the idea of movement as they followed a day in the life of postman volunteer, Reggie—an avid speed walker. The film opened with a rotund, mustached man, clad in a Polo and khakis, cheerily delivering mail. A recording from his updated audio journal read in the background: “Today was a good one, just like every other day.” The film focuses on his movement—speed-walking through the day. But the light-hearted film takes a twisted turn when the lovable postman is abducted by aliens in his suburban home later that night. Viewers were left with a haunting feeling as Reggie was lifted out of his home in a blinding light while his audio journal played in the background: “Today was a good one, just like every other day.”

“Body Language Zone,” a Finnish film by Kim Saarinen, continued on this idea of movement in everyday life, turning it into a kind of choreography. The film featured a short-haired woman in a business suit, typing at her desk. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, her toes tapping on the floor. The movement became powerful and interesting as the woman changed positions and began typing her fingers on the wall, swiveling in her chair, moving her knees up and down—dancing without ever leaving her confined cubicle space. As the woman moved to different settings in the workplace, the camera focused on her hand, touching a variety of different surfaces. Her hand sliding over countertops, microwaves, and light switches elicited the question, “How can we touch things differently? How can we be more aware of the objects we encounter everyday?” A man’s voice narrated the ordinary, yet choreographed movements of the woman, making the film feel as if we were observing a creature on an Animal Planet show. The quirky ordinary human movements proved to viewers that body language in itself is a type of dance.

Other films captured dance as traditional, technical choreography. Sierra Crawford’s “A Man Who Fell in Love With an Island” had a captivating partnering duet in the medium of a music video. The male dancer emerged from the lead singer—a ghostly, static-y representation of the singer’s past self. The duet between the male and female dancer served as the singer’s reflection of a past relationship. As they continued to move together, the dancers became covered in black sludge. The watery paint dripped down their soaking wet bodies, a strong visual representation of how we leave our mark on people that come in and out of our lives.

One final film, “Woods” by Skyler Sorenson (the product of another 24-hour Film Competition creation) explored movement in the human body, but also movement of the surrounding scenery. As the title indicates, this brief 2-minute film shows a man taking a flickering candle into the woods. Before any dancing is every captured on camera, the audience notices the movement of the pale white aspen trees, highlighted against the pitch-black midnight sky. The reflection of shimmering light and shadow cast upon the trees makes the white aspens a main mover in this visual illusion. As the man dances, silently and smoothly, he and nature choreograph together.

This year’s Film Festival offered a range of approaches to dance filmmaking. From the crafting of ordinary movements to attempts at capturing choreography from new angles, filmmakers proved there is no restriction as to what constitutes “dance in film.”

Chloe Stacey is a student at BYU. 

Illusions, a children’s review

Ririe Woodbury held a matinee kid friendly show at the Capitol Theatre on January 30th.  It was that magical length of under an hour, and showcased four works by the historic Alwin Nikolais.

Artistic Director Daniel Charon did a great job of introducing each piece, providing context, and even a seated movement experience.  Although I questioned why “Gallery” would be included in a children’s show (clowns and creepy music!), overall the show was visual and theatrical with ten dancers showcasing dynamic movement at its best.  I took my three children, Zachary (5), Kate (3), and Sophie (1).  Here are Zachary’s reactions:

“I liked a lot of the moves they did.  The first piece (Mechanical Organ) was not my favorite, but I liked when they sat on the bench and got up and down again.

The ghosts (Neumenon) came in and were spooky and went Chomp! Chomp! like a crocodile with their hands.  This was my favorite piece because the dancers had sheets over themselves and just did really cool moves.  Also the music sounded like ghost-men. 

In that one piece (Gallery) there were scary things and they were holding up different faces and masks.

The last piece (Tensile Involvement) had ribbons and the dancers pulled them tighter and tighter, and then all these different colors came.

I do think these dancers practice a lot and this was my favorite move, (he then sat down, stood up, releve, port a bra, slide left, slide right).  Thank-you for letting me watch the show with you.  It was a very good time.  Goodbye.”

 Erica Womack is an area choreographer and adjunct faculty at SLCC. Her son Zachary is in preschool and aspired to be on Ninja Warrior. 

 

Utah Presents: Northwest Dance Project

Portland-based contemporary dance company Northwest Dance Project had its Salt Lake City debut at the University of Utah’s Marriott Center for Dance (programmed by Utah Presents, formerly Kingsbury Hall Presents). NWDP currently employs nine dancers, and consistently features the work of various international guest choreographers. On the program for Salt Lake City were works by Felix Landerer (currently choreographer in residence at Scapino Ballet Rotterdam), NWDP artistic director Sarah Slipper, Jiri Pokorny (choreographer in the Netherlands/Prague, formerly with Kidd Pivot), and Ihsan Rustem (a Switzerland-based choreographer, and currently NWDP’s choreographer in residence).

The program opening was strong. In Landerer’s “What We’ve Lost on the Way,” four dancers strode purposefully toward the audience and then back again, as their outstretched arms coincided with static eruptions in the score. The stage was lit by a lowered lighting truss and the upstage area was dark, so each time the dancers marched forward, it was as though they were emerging for the first time. The dancers slid through buttery floorwork, belying the strength it certainly required. While repetition of structure became predictable toward the piece’s end, each iteration took place with a clarity of purpose that made it satisfying to drink in yet again. A moment in a woman’s solo resonated uniquely: she lay on her back, her legs dangling skyward like noodles as she looked curiously up at them. While the rest of the piece featured more physical demands, this brief repose was a contemplation on the limbs that were previously in endless motion. On a costuming note, the dancers’ socks (presumably an aesthetically-driven choice) did not seem to allow them the groundedness needed for all the deep, wide fourth positions, among other choreography, that the piece demanded.

Slipper’s “MemoryHouse” and Rustem’s “State of Matter” felt less singular in some of their choices. Both felt structurally unclear at times, and the choreography, while expertly executed, lacked memorable choices. “MemoryHouse” was at best a trite exploration of a domestic partnership, and “State of Matter” meandered unsteadily alongside a poem about clouds (while it did feature a striking opening scene with limbs dangling down below a black curtain that hovered several feet above the stage).

Strongest on the program was Pokorny’s “At Some Hour You Return.” The lights flashed on to reveal an empty stage lit with a blue-white wash, a truly striking image which elicited an audible reaction from the audience. Then a series of magical blackouts took place, lights coming on between to reveal different groupings of dancers (that took place both extremely quickly and in total silence). Eventually a sextet of three male and three female dancers was revealed; each was clad in black, including black sneakers, which was a welcome change both visually and for movement capability. Pokorny’s choreography had a quirky edge, featuring motifs such as hands held up to heads like antlers; other grounded, swift shifts also possessed an animalian quality. Throughout, Pokorny’s vocabulary felt original and constantly fresh. Structurally the piece shifted through a series of vignettes, bookended by savvy lighting choices, and thus achieved an unpredictability of arc. “At Some Hour You Return” was a piece I would have liked to watch several times over.

Northwest Dance Project lives up to one of its founding initiatives: fostering the creation of original works from both established and emerging choreographers. While Rustem’s work has been showcased by NWDP, Hubbard Street Dance Chicago, and Whim W’him, among some other festivals, his is still a fairly new name; “At Some Hour You Return” was Pokorny’s North American choreographic debut; Landerer’s accolades also include solely European companies and productions. While some pieces may have felt more finely tuned, it was refreshing to see an an evening of largely unfamiliar works and names. As written by Hubbard Street dancer Benjamin Wardell in his poem featured in “State of Matter,” “…like clouds, we are blind to our own perspective”; perhaps the continual introduction of so many new perspectives by companies like NWDP will continue to enlarge our own.

Amy Falls is loveDANCEmore’s program coordinator. She is an avid consumer of dance literature, and loves seeing new choreographers presented in Salt Lake City.

Our reviews at loveDANCEmore are shared with 15Bytes | Utah’s Art Magazine.

Pictured: Northwest Dance Project in “At Some Hour You Return” by Jiri Pokorny 

RDT Link — Emerge

Emerge, an evening of works choreographed by Rodolfo Rafael, was presented at the Rose by RDT’s Link Series last Thursday. The evening was intense, beginning with driving music and a sharp spotlight isolating a group of dancers. One dancer shook as she struggled to bear the full weight of another standing on her shoulders. The supported dancer tipped back into the arms of the group as the lights dramatically cut out.

The intensity did not let up. Dim lighting, dark music, and prowling, smoldering dancers all said this was an evening of contemporary dance that takes itself seriously. This severity eventually grew monotonous but “Shotgun,” a work with girlish primping and lightly suggested Latin dancing, happily interrupted the mood.

Though different in tone, “Shotgun” was similar to other works from Emerge, featuring technically challenging and potential-filled movement phrases which seemed as if the shell had barely been cracked. Many works also made use of implied narrative elements that were disconnected from the movement, as if the two weren’t yet married into a unified whole. I found myself wondering what the characterizations brought to the work. Perhaps the dancing would be better served without them.

By far the most provoking work of the evening was “Avert,” an exploration of the devastating emotional outcomes of conversion therapy, a scientifically unsound but shockingly legal practice that erroneously believes homosexuality is a curable disease. “Avert” featured a sound score comprised of Arvo Pärt’s emotional string arrangements and audio excerpts from the film “For the Bible Tells Me So” that heartbreakingly described the absolute pain of being a gay person in an unsupportive religious environment and the trauma of surviving what amounts to torture while undergoing this “treatment.”

Paired with the potent score were heavy images of limp, helpless dancers being dragged across the stage and convulsive, disjointed references to shock therapy. Except for a brief solo by Elle Skye, the gravity of the text often overtook the dancers. Set to the tragic story of the chasm caused by a parent’s refusal to accept their gay child and the child’s subsequent suicide, Elle’s weighted, loose yet expansive dancing matched the grief of the story, giving even greater solemnity to the moment. “Avert” was largely overwhelming, in great part due to the painful stories shared. But a dance dealing with such a subject should leave an audience neither comfortable nor satisfied.

Creating an evening’s worth of dance as a budding choreographer is no small feat and is an effort to be honored.Though some moments were less refined, images of the evening are still stuck in my mind, especially from the works “Blink” and “Walls.” A single dancer, the entrancingly fluid Josie Patterson, surveyed the open space of the stage. Bright spotlights exposed images of dependence as shadowy observers haunted the perimeters. Creamy gestural phrases interrupted bound, static shapes. Both works revealed an eye for vignette and arrangement of the body that was intriguing, at times even striking. As Rafael continues to make work, these avenues are well worth his further exploration.

Mary Lyn Graves performs with Ririe Woodbury Dance Company among other freelance performance & teaching