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

 

Aerial Arts of Utah 2014

Aerial Arts of Utah recently landed at the Rose Wagner for their yearly spectacle of high-flying dance and acrobatics. The show opened with Elizabeth Stich on the aerial rope (or corde lisse) in a constantly moving solo with French flair. She kept the audience in quiet awe of her strength and flexibility, which she was able to feature later in the show with an acrobatic routine that involved no apparatus, but kept us on the edge of our seats while she balanced on her hands, and danced gracefully across the stage. As a performer, Stich is captivating in any environment.

The second act was a lighthearted trapeze duet to the Golden Oldies. The two dancers demonstrated an extensive variety of partnering skills such as balancing while standing on the back of each other’s necks, and entwining their limbs to create a two-person momentum-machine. The transitions between these impressive moments seemed unpolished and awkward, despite the accomplishment of very challenging partner work.

The lyra duet performed by Nancy Carter and Amy Olson was a favorite of mine. It was beautiful to watch the suspended hoop that had space for both dancers, and was rigged to flip end over end. It concluded as the dancers aimed their bodies through the rotating hoop several times, in an unbelievable combination of timing, balance, coordination, and trust. I was surprised to see the strain in these seasoned performers, which highlights how truly demanding this piece was to perform.

Piper Mathews also stood out to me in her trapeze solo. She has a flair for the dramatic which served her sharp and precise movement style that I really enjoyed throughout the performance. Strong side lighting almost made the trapeze disappear while highlighting her floating figure, and haunting expressions.

The aerial silks were featured in three dances of the evening. Beautiful performed by Adriane Colvin and Mark Bolyea featured two performers on the same apparatus. Their white costumes against the red fabric gave a romantic atmosphere to the piece. Both partners supported each other in challenging positions as they scaled the fabric. I especially enjoyed Colvin’s performance of Secret with Anne Kocherhans, in which some dark humor was portrayed through quirky poses and broken lines of the two dancers’ movements. The finals silks performance closed the evening with co-owners Eppstein and Kocherhans in front of a video projection by Paul Winder. This gave the dancers the dizzying effect of floating above cityscapes, amongst hot air balloons, taking a dip in the ocean, and finally dancing off into the clouds.

It’s always good to leave the audience wanting more, and this year Aerial Arts of Utah did just that. Memorable characters were created, whose worlds and stories seemed to have the depth to explore more. Salt Lake City is fortunate to look forward to this unique performance each year.

Erin Romero is a dancer and choreographer based in Salt Lake City. She co-directs Movement Forum and has also showed work independently throughout the city.

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.

A Conversation on Burrows and Fargion at the U of U

Jonathan Burrows and Matteo Fargion, guest artists of the University of Utah’s Department of Modern Dance, presented two duets this Friday at the Marriott Center for Dance. BothCheap Lecture and The Cow Piece functioned as performance poems for two voices.

Cheap Lecture was strictly metered in relationship to rhythmic structures crafted by John Cage for Lecture on Nothing and Cheap Imitation. (The latter Cage made for a collaboration with Cunningham in which a Satie work couldn’t be used because of copyright issues.) The piece made many witty references to art works and makers ranging from Pina Bausch to Schubert. It flashed on Gilbert and George and on many twentieth century “New Music” composers who used text inside of strict aesthetics, but this pithy duo was fast-paced and interested exclusively in the ways in which the art making process mirrored the absurdity of life. One memorable section highlighted that the pair “doesn’t know what they are doing” yet they are doing it, again and again.

The Cow Piece, though still highly structured, featured nonsensical songs in Italian, English and other unidentifiable languages while the pair are alternately torturing and playing house with six miniature cow figurines. Burrows and Fargion danced, hammed, played lutes, harmonicas and accordions deconstructing well-known texts and songs such as “I Will Survive”, “April in Paris,” and Blue Oyster-Cult’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper.” Throughout, they maintained a distinctness, stationed behind dueling desks and microphones which rendered them as a two-part harmony of absurdity that carried the audience through a marathon of visual, aural and linguistic play.

Like the collaboration itself, the two intertwined pieces read as one conversation. In accordance with that idea of collaboration, Ashley Anderson and Samuel Hanson have written this description together and decided to include below their conversation about where the dance took them…

Ashley Anderson: Both pieces were glimpses into the way work can be truly interdisciplinary. I hear that a lot in marketing of work but this was actually it. Not just because of a weaving of music, poetry and dance but also due to the use of the formal training associated with each. The audience didn’t see Jonathan performing ballet (as his biography might have led one to believe) but we did see was an incredibly formal performance of text, music and fleeting gestural movement sequences, each of which utilized the discipline (or lens) of ballet to reveal ideas about what performers and audience members do in the theater. Similarly, we didn’t watch Matteo working as a composer for either piece but instead, a composer from within the pieces. For both artists it seemed an exploration of how a composer might dance, how a ballet dancer might deliver poetry and how the almost rigid confines of each art form could inform the other. This was not the rambling monologue present in numerous dances of the contemporary moment, it was something quite different.

Samuel Hanson: What’s interesting to me about that is that I actually guessed the dancer (Burrows) to be the musician and vice versa at the beginning. It was only about two-thirds of the way through the evening that I arrived at realizing who “belonged” to which discipline. I think this shows how deeply they must have researched each other’s values, interests and instincts. In other words, it shows that they probably rehearsed a lot, which they celebrate in the work, stating, in so many words that, it is only through repetition, that we arrive at certain kinds of transcendence and newness.

Another interesting dichotomy they embodied, which I think is unique in “contemporary” (or as I would still call it postmodern) dance is the juxtaposition of an operatic kind of humor or heightening of emotive content with a rigid, seemingly arbitrary, formalism. I think anyone who was there would agree that the big (huge for some) laughs in the second half were the “payoff” of enduring the wordiness and almost theoretical shape inscribed in the first half.

AA: Speaking of who was there, I don’t understand why there wasn’t a larger audience––both of the students in their workshops and from the community. In the first piece there was a section of text which quite beautifully explained that there is a prevailing assumption that “artists can make anything” when, in fact, they “can only make what they are able to make.” And in the case of these duets, text about performance peppered with moments of song and dance are it. In a portion of the piece they describe the plot of Giselle and my mind drifted to the large audience watching Ballet West’s Giselle at the same moment and wondering if there wasn’t a better way to both describe and unite the work we do in dance… Maybe the students they taught already saw the work in another context. Even so, if given the opportunity, I would’ve gone back tonight. I would’ve watched it over and over.

SH: I agree it was a missed opportunity for the many who didn’t make it out. Where many of us, perhaps necessarily, carve our identities out in very specific ways––e.g. “I am not ballet,” “I am not modern,” “I am not even dance…”––these two guys had a broad appeal that might have started some very interesting dialogues if more people had been there.

AA: There is also something about formalism that really lets people into material they might not otherwise be willing to engage with. For example, as they read you can see they have a stack of papers that are dropped one at a time to the floor upon completion. Just knowing that once the stack of papers is complete the dance will be over gives you a kind of freedom to enjoy. They also give you that freedom by offering permission to close your eyes and just listen to the piano, or passively disengage with the portions of the text that aren’t interesting to you. So, despite being a performance speaking mostly to makers of performance, I think it also speaks to people who primarily watch….it reminded me of this piece by Maguy Marin which is extremely repetitious. But you know it will end when a piece of string playing the guitar runs off of the spool. Just knowing something will end at a certain point helps you to enjoy it rather than stay frustrated or wondering what time it is or something.

SH: I love that Maguy Marin piece too. I think you’re absolutely right that there were just a few key things that made the intensive repetition work where it otherwise might have been interminable. You can see why Satu Hummasti (who wrote the grant) and her colleagues would want their students to see a piece like this. It’s not just good, its also instructive in how to use experimentation, language and repetition in a way that many of the dances they see here probably aren’t.

Ashley is the director and founder of loveDANCEmore, a branch of her non-profit ashley anderson dances. Samuel helps out with the journal and occasionally with new media projects.

Performance Art Fest 2014

This last Friday and Saturday the Salt Lake City Public Library’s Main Library Branch in downtown Salt Lake City hosted its second annual Performance Art Festival, curated by Utah native Kristina Lenzi. Fifteen artists, split evenly between local presenters and out-of-state artists, participated in the event. Performances, representing a diverse range of performance art types, durations and concepts, took place throughout the Main Library building and grounds during the two days.

The library setting provided a unique incubator for viewing artwork and creating new interactions. The Main Library is always brimming with patrons from all ages and walks of life, so while some people were there specifically to see the performances, there were many more who were using the space as it is—a library—and were not seeking out artwork. The performances accosted the norms of the space, which allowed for new audiences to participate in the process of art-making. Brash, confused individuals would approach an artist with the simplest question—“What are you doing?” It created an ephemeral, unique point of interaction between a new audience member and the artist. At times it was embarrassing for both parties, the artist being outside of the insular art community where people are in-the-know, and an unknowing audience member trying to make sense of what was going on. These new viewers were seeing bizarre actions labeled “art,” which they know to mean the height of beauty and value, yet they were presented in a way that didn’t make immediate sense. When asked about a work’s meaning, several artists hesitated for a moment, thinking of where to begin, what to say, and ultimately they entertained and even invited and allowed a relationship to begin. However, those artists who were unable to speak to and invite dialogue with the audience regarding their pieces seemed to explicitly cut the line of understanding, which can be part of a direct artistic intention yet limits understanding of all involved. In this way there was a large variation of works presented during this event, different types of performances and ideas about the role of performance art and audience.

Stephane Gilots, an artist hailing from Montreal, presented his piece, “Station Library,” for the entirety of both days. Instead of the viewer watching the artist, Gilot invited the audience to become the performers while he directed and documented. Gilot created a voyeuristic experience by invoking the fascination of space travel. In this work he provided a handmade “space suit.” The audience would then put on the suit and begin a hunt to find a book from a list made by Gilot. The hunted books were on the subject of space, but ranged in how they dealt with the idea of the great unknown. In this action, participants became explorers in a place they thought they knew but were forced to explore—shelves in sections they might have never before realized were in the library.

With his project “Next,” Salt Lake City resident Eugene Tachinni invited the audience to participate in a step-by-step project with written instructions that were passed out by the artist. First, the participant was asked to think about a person who makes their life better and to write their name onto a long balloon. They would then tie their balloon to an increasing mass of colorful balloons, take a photo of it, and use social media to hashtag the image with the artist’s name. Lastly, they were asked to write or talk to the person named to express their feelings about them. Visually, without all of the added steps, the installation was a sight. People were drawn to the massive links of balloons and naturally wanted to tie the balloons, which alone were able to portray the sentimentality of personal connections without the other steps/elements. “Next” allowed for many users to perform at one time and through various mediums and social media, which allowed participation with the audience beyond the real time. This type of performance used audience participation as the physical act with the artist acting as a curator with an implied intent that the audience will hopefully reach through the motion of the art-making process.

On the other spectrum of performance art, there were also several performances that were more theatrical procedures (the artist performs and the audience watches). Lisa DeFrance, a local, performed both days for varying times within the library’s “Share” space, which is a closed glass room. During that time, DeFrance took piles of used white clothing of all types—baby clothes, women’s chemises, men’s polos—and folded and arranged them into piles and formations. The work was aptly named “Fold: Repetition and Difference.” As seen in photos on social media, the performance wasn’t particularly engaging, but in person, looked at through the glass, little details gave the work added texture—the clothing showed the signs of wear, some had sweat stains on the arm pits or dirty rings around the collar. “To whom did the clothing belong?” these details seemed to ask. DeFrance performed while never looking up at the audience, as if in her own trance of doing. It gave the audience the liberty to gaze without shame, to look at her hands, her outfit, her space without ever feeling her privacy was being invaded.

Kristina Lenzi, the organizer of the event, also performed on Saturday. Throughout the day she could be found wandering the library, her mouth and head wrapped in gauze, and wearing a large blue striped sweater. Instead of hands, coming out of her sweater’s long sleeves were white ropes with the ends attached to books that dragged on the floor as she walked. Her performance begged the recurring question, “What are you doing?” but offered no possibility for an answer since her mouth was wrapped. The performance was suggestive enough, however, to send one through a catalog of historical references, searching for meaning and thinking, “Well it could be about race? Or violence? Maybe she’s being tied down with a ball and chain?” Etc, etc. An audience craves understanding and connections, ways to decipher meaning, and “Trickster,” as the work was aptly titled, creates that connection by disconnection.

The Performance Art Festival featured many additional works. Jeffery Byrd (Waterloo, IA) filled the glass elevator with a post-it note collection of beautiful words. Caroline Boileau (Montreal) invited visitors to read and view a precious book inside of a plexiglass box, which she carried on her person. Tatiana Larsen (SLC) dipped her feet in honey and slowly paced along a circular platform until she picked up all the gold leaf flakes that had been placed there. Marilyn Arem (Boston, MA) gave participants the opportunity to use special dice to create new words, which were then added to a dictionary of words. Amongst all fifteen performances there seemed to be several that took inspiration from ideas of language, words and literature. This overt connection to the function of a library may not have been necessary, because of the space’s ability to forge new relationships and conversations as a public gathering place, but it did help to inform the pieces in a way to help them to seem organized and approachable instead of a public fluke of which the authorities should have been alerted.

You can learn more about Marcela Torres’ recent work here. We worked with her first through the education program at CUAC, which she directs. This review is shared with 15Bytes, the photo is by Will Thompson.