ONE at Sugar Space

Entering the (relatively new) Sugar Space Arts Warehouse on Friday night was exciting for more than the fact that Norwegian choreographer, Kari Hoaas was performing her evening length work recognizing the continuous global struggle for women’s rights. The venue itself is spacious and filled with possibility and a separate studio on the property hosted an exhilarating dance and music jam with Porridge for Goldilocks before the show. The short sunset-­lit walk from studio to warehouse provided a nice palate cleanser between joyful group improvisation and a somber solo performance.

Hoaas and her collaborators set the scene with moderate fog and a piece of almost opaque plastic hanging from the forty foot high ceiling. There were also thousands of little styrofoam balls strewn across the stage with a purposeful pool near a narrow platform spanning the width of the upper panel of the stage, furthest from the audience, but close enough to see.

The piece began with a clicking sound that built continuously as one light slowly revealed Hoaas seated on the narrow platform. She began in a reclining pin-up girl position, head hanging back so as to appear separate from her body, which turned into a series of slow and anguished poses, similar to a Butoh performance. Her grey hoodie had an attached piece of black fabric covering her face and presenting her as an archetypal, yet contorted, female body. Her physicality was tender and beautiful to watch, but I found that the transitions between her poses were abrupt and lost the illusion of physical distortion.

The transitions throughout the piece, in fact, could have been smoothed because some of the energetic shifts in Hoaas’ careful movement were not supported by the durational nature of the piece. The composition evolved slowly with that repetitive sound of the clicking alternated with Philip Glass’ ubiquitous Metamorphoses. The latter piece of music is wonderful and contemplative but has been used so much that it felt like Hoaas used its power to be a tear jerker. Perhaps it was needed to find the state of sadness that she expressed with her anguished facial expression and trembling movement to present herself in context of the plight of women.

The piece was heartfelt and loaded with raw movement; however, Hoaas’ stated intention of seeking “to challenge the inherent restrictions of gender” was compromised by nervous representations of androcentric female posturing and an overly­ prolonged section which seemed to lack intention beyond the presentation of more typical dance movements.

The dramaturgy was artful and appropriate along with the sound score that supported much of the dance, but due perhaps to the length or an unintentionally awkward dynamic, I wasn’t permitted to feel like an active participant. That feeling aligns with the oppressed female experience, but was projected onto the audience rather than shared through empathetic response by the audience. Despite that, the piece was worth seeing to stir up ideas about feminism in the contemporary moment and to experience a foreign aesthetic that one would not normally encounter here.

Emma Wilson is a loveDANCEmore intern and is a student of dance and environmental studies at the University of Utah. This review, and others by loveDANCEmore are in collaboration with 15 BYTES.

Photo of Kari Hoass, courtesy of Sugar Space.

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.

2014 in Review, Dancing and Journaling in 2015

SL Trib writer Kathy Adams provides an excellent place to start the annual ritual of looking back. She mentions most of the highlights of Utah’s more established companies—RDT, RW and of course, Ballet West. It was also a great year for us. Mudson continued to grow and evolve in unexpected ways. Some of my favorite works this year included Ashley Anderson’s new duet on Alysia Ramos and Amy Freitas and Amy’s own Porridge for Goldilocks with live music by the Apartment Quartet Society. I also really enjoyed seeing Solange Gomes and her flamenco students in that vaulted ballroom—again, the power of live music, but this time integrated with the dancing in a way unique to that form.

Daughters was, I think, better than ever, and many other independent shows graced the eyes of Salt Lakers, including Molly Heller’s if a snake could bite, which I sadly missed and the U’s poorly attended but excellent tour of Matteo Fargion and Jonathan Burrows.

Another way in which our work at loveDANCEmore flourished was in deeper-than-ever discussions on the blog and in the journal. Look back to read the discussions of race and authenticity around Rhythm Migration or the long thread around the various rites of spring different members of our community saw this year. These important local dance dialogues happen nowhere else (that I know of). Then, once you’re inspired, write something or draw something for the new journal!!! The deadline is FEBRUARY 1, 2015!!! The theme is forgotten dance histories!

And remember, if you want to write about a show happening in 2015, there’s no requirement other than that you let us know. If you don’t like what you’re reading, or you just want to share your perspective, all you have to do is ask! Our aspiration is to be an OPEN forum for dance in SLC!!! Happy new year!!!!

Samuel Hanson is the New Media Czar of loveDANCEmore. He also writes about dance here and has edited the last two editions of learning to loveDANCEmore.