Municipal Ballet + Conquer Monster: Metatransit

METATRANSIT was a joint production by the musical duo Conquer Monster and Municipal Ballet Co. Being a sci-fi buff myself, I was excited to learn that the premise of the show was an abstract dance narrative inspired by the comic series, “Purge Worlds” written by Joshua Oman and illustrated by Chris Black. Conquer Monster originally crafted a custom soundtrack, METATRANSIT,  which was designed to be played while reading the comic series. To my delight, the soundtrack was played live for the show. Video-glitch artist Tanner Hawkins was also involved in the mix by providing video content.

The event was held at Urban Lounge. To be honest, this worried me. I had only ever seen music concerts there complete with beer sticky on the floor, and sweaty millennials bouncing only slightly to the music. My worry proved unwarranted as the space was transformed for the show. Company director Sarah Longoria took to the stage and introduced the evening. She mentioned that her company does “experimental ballet” and that this show was a little more than that, being their first time performing to electronic dance music. I settled into my seat as the fog machines hissed, spurting out smoke that set the atmosphere.

DYSTOPIAN UNDERWORLD by Sarah Longoria was the first piece in the show. It opened with dancer Hannah Bowcutt seated mid-stage with her back to the audience. The movement for this work contained the most classically recognizable ballet moves. There were long and beautiful lines in the choreography which fit Hannah perfectly. My favorite moment was when she took her socks off and tossed them to the side. This action somehow signaled to me that Hannah was preparing to dive in a little deeper for when she returned to dancing she had a new and visible determination with each movement. Extensions appeared as a motif throughout the work. While Hannah was captivating to watch as she held her legs impossibly high, I couldn’t help but notice that the graceful movements did not match the title of the piece.  

Hannah was joined by Amy Falls and Nora Price for the second work, FLUX PERIPHERAL by Erica Womack. The ladies were wearing white and gray and each had a different Ziggy Stardust-esque facepaint. This trio had moments of scrambled video bits projected on their bodies as well as onto the backdrop. The ladies moved with a lovely sense of timing during all of the unison phrases. The choreography highlighted the music with dynamic accents. The motif for this piece seemed to be a deep second position plié while in unison, and it was very satisfying to watch. The dancers all had stoic facial expressions and seemed to represent some disciplined yet graceful ideology through their movements.  

GALAXY SURFER was the first video work by Tanner. My favorite images were of the the killer scorpion robot. I didn’t recognize any other images used from different sci-fi movies or shows, but the futuristic theme was apparent in showing images of explosions, robots, fancy switchboards and distorted bodies.  

WAVEFORM DISTORTION by Kaya Wolsey was the next work presented. The music definitely added a new tone for the show. It was driving and lightning fast. I noticed myself and others tapping along in time with the beat, caught in the energy that Conquer Monster was creating. The choreography mirrored the pace of the song with moves executed on every count.  Cynthia Phillips was so precise yet fierce with every phrase. She was vibrant and moved with a determined force. The lights were dramatic, dark and colorful, making this setting very different from the light, ethereal moods of earlier on. Cynthia wore all black and was smirking a little wickedly throughout her solo. While I was very impressed with the athleticism of the piece, I also found myself wishing there had been more moments of dynamic time changes like the one repeated variation Cynthia did in the middle of the dance.  

The energy from the previous piece carried us into a duet with Cynthia and Kaya Wolsey.  TRANSMITTING DNA AT 299 MM/S was a fitting name as the movements continued to  a crescendo. Choreographer Jessica Liu used partnerwork and lifting with the duo to create moments of suspension. Cynthia and Kaya locked eyes with each-other, becoming the first dancers to visibly see and acknowledge their shared presence. The lighting continued with dark washes of solid color changing with the pulsing beats. Both dancers were emotionally invested, and proud. Both clad in black, I immediately concluded that this group of dancers was meant to be in opposition to the white/gray group. This second group had smaller numbers, but seemed very powerful in their movements which set them apart from the aloof aesthetic of the other dances.  

The second video, POSTHUMAN, showed much if not all of the same images from GALAXY SURFER but in different sequencing. This time around I noticed smaller details such as the repeating sign “Oasis” despite other images of war, high tech robots, explosions and distorted people. I found myself having little moments of nostalgia whenever I could see “Play” flashing on the top of the screen like an old VHS player.  

In SELF-SIMILAR FREQUENCY DOMAIN by Chase Wise we saw the two groups join forces and share the stage. While the girls danced in unison during the work, I could still see the emphasis on the differing styles of movement. The two dancers in black had a little more attack and sharpness to their movements while the gray/white group ebbed and flowed. Chase used lots of directional changes which were extremely refreshing on the intimate stage. Detailed gestures were woven into the work and punctuated by the dancers framing their heads with their hands. This move seemed to demonstrate some sort of personal obstacles or a mental block. I couldn't help but to try and find a narrative that I could follow within the movement. I caught my breath when for a moment all of the dancers were on the floor with their feet up and hands in a  “stop” position. Fast floorwork made the piece exciting and lent a contemporary edge to the show. While this piece was strong choreographically, I felt that the unison sections seemed a little under-rehearsed and the girls weren’t completely in sync.  

During ANAGLYPHIC VISION(S) by Trevor Naumann, the white/gray group returned with more dancers. I could see the group making amorphous shapes in positive and negative space. There was minimal contact during these shapes, which was something I longed to see a more of.  Naumann added little snippet solos that broke away from the group. The solos were titillating, leaving me wanting more of those highlights to break up the unison.  

After reading the program, I was intrigued that NOISE DECAY by Nora Price and Emily Snow contained an improvisational framework that the dancers could work within. At first all of the dancers were huddled on the floor in a clump. They held this position as Emily slowly and deliberately padded towards them. As she got closer to the group, they began to peel away one by one. Emily seemed to be breaking up the group, changing their paths and altering their destinations which allowed for happy accidents of interaction. Perhaps the most vivid moment of the piece was when two dancers were left downstage and center. With a slight pause the girls reached out and touched the other’s sternum with their hands right over the heartspace. The detailed moments of contact were so few and far between in the show that this moment stuck with me throughout the evening. It added a touch of humanity to the sensory overload of loud music and static-filled imagery in much of the concert.  

While STARPORT DESTRUCTION SEQUENCE had a few new images thrown into this video interlude, I wanted to see more variety the third time around. Since the dances in the show lacked a clearly outlined narrative to follow, I assumed that the videos were meant define the adventure. While I could tell that there was a story of chaos and war being told, I wished that the videos were able to provide the context that the dances were missing. I wanted to know more about the inspiration of the comics behind the dances. Perhaps in the future, more collaboration could happen between the choreographers and video artist to help further the story for the audience.  

The last piece of the evening was a composite of all that came before. SPECTRAL DRIFT started with Amy. She commanded the audience’s attention as she progressed through a repeated movement phrase from FLUX PERIPHERAL. Each dancer joined her one by one. It was extremely gratifying to see everyone in complete unison with the return of the deep, second position plié. At one point the stage was split into two parallel lines with the dancers facing the other side in a showdown. Some of the dancers would move to the middle and repeat solos they had executed from previous pieces. At the end of the piece I saw a reimagining of the opening image of Hannah, but with all of the dancers. The girls were seated at the end of the stage with their backs to the audience. Every other dancer had their elbows up and out, creating a triangular silhouette that was juxtaposed by the curled-up position of the remaining dancers. The end of the dance was choreographed to coincide perfectly with the winding-down of the music and made for a striking final image.  

This was my first time seeing work by all of the artists involved in the show. I was not disappointed. The concert was an excellent length with seamless transitions from piece to piece thanks to brilliant playing by Conquer Monster. The dancers wore the same costumes throughout, which gave a sense of continuity. The live music provided the ever-beating heart behind the movement. The videos were interesting despite being a little disconnected from the dancing. I was confused about what was supposed to be happening in the story which made me want to read the comic book and then see the show again. Overall, it is refreshing to see ballet being taken in new directions by Municipal Ballet Co. After speaking with some of the creators involved, they seemed open to working on more projects like this one in the future. This mixed media approach featuring local artists seems to echo a change of times in the performance world, by blending the lines between art forms and fostering collaboration.

Ashley Creek holds a BFA from the University of Utah. She is currently the Co-Director of Brine and a member of Myriad Dance Company. Ashley teaches with Ballet West and performs in different projects around the valley.  

Ballet West: Journeys and Reflections

For the close of their season, Ballet West presents a program that spans over 80 years of dance making with three astoundingly diverse works. Beginning with George Balanchine’s Chaconne, dancers in softly draped dresses cover the stage as Gluck’s pastoral score drifts through the theater. They gently weave symmetrical patterns and float into statuesque poses as Emily Adams and Adrian Fry impeccably set the tone for the ballet. Chaconne is blissful, regal, pure in its clarity. The ballet’s movements are deceptively simple, creating a peaceful ease for the viewer. Your eyes can relax and take pleasure in the tranquil balance of Balanchine’s masterful organization of dancers. Katherine Lawrence and Christopher Sellars offer a bright break from the calm with a sweetly uninhibited duet flourished with jester-like wrist twirls and Mercurial attitudes. Jenna Rae Herrera also stands out with her warm and girlish energy. Another dancer might feel overdone, but Herrera’s bubbling-quality comes across as genuine.  

The high point of Chaconne is Adams and Fry’s second pas de deux. Both dancers possess an intriguingly royal quality, luxurious and crystalline without being cold. Fry, with his delicately flicking wrists and sudden drops into deep second, is endlessly gracious in his performance. The brighter yet still regal tone of the pas de deux showcases Adams’ gift for performing Balanchine. She joyfully plays with the music, flirting with timing until you can no longer find the boundaries between her dance and the orchestra. Her movement has an invigorating dignity and feels spectacularly spontaneous.

As heavenly as Chaconne is, Façades offers a more fraught mood. Opening with two baby-blue suited men in white wigs and heavily powdered faces hidden by lace fans, Garrett Smith’s revised ballet uses abstracted Baroque references as a way to address ideas of reflection.  Utilizing the ballet trope of two dancers creating the illusion of a mirror, Smith matches Adams in a red tutu with Allison DeBona in black. At first an impressive feat, the trick devolves into predictability as the relationship between the reflections never develops. Though their costumes are inversions of each other, the pair’s movement remains identical. I wish Smith had heightened DeBona’s mirthful quality against Adams’ timidity.  

Façades is satisfyingly fluid and Smith has a gift for crafting transitional moments. One of the more interesting sections found Adams staring into a string of dancers, giving the illusion of an endless hall of mirrors. As Adams moves, they echo and the slight delay of passing motion adds richness to this simple idea. I particularly enjoyed a moment where the two baby-blue Baroque men from the opening conduct the ensemble in a sweep of the stage, each woman lifted with stabbing legs to give the impression that the room had shattered.

However, the clear highlight of the evening is Kurt Jooss’ The Green Table. Created in 1932 on the eve of Hitler’s rise to power, The Green Table is indisputably a masterpiece. Dissonant, foreboding chords resound as the curtain rises to reveal The Gentlemen in Black spread across a green table. To a sarcastic tango, these ten masked diplomats with cavernous black eyes and white gloves cartoonishly converse. A veneer of politeness diffuses the ever-present violence in their gestures. As one man offers his hand, he raises his other in a fist. One bows to hide another shooting someone in the head. Two fingers point like a pistol across the table. The audience around me began to laugh. The Gentlemen in Black were funny and innocuous until the unexpected shot of a gun. Suddenly, we arrive in Death’s stark world. A glowing skeleton with wide luminous eyes, black boots, and a Trojan helmet, Beau Pearson as Death moves with precision and relentlessness. His eyes glow and widen, imbuing his percussive movements with powerful terror.

As Death presides, the patriotic Standard Bearer enthusiastically waves his blank flag and welcomes soldiers past Death’s clockwork arms. The Young Girl says goodbye to her sweetheart and The Woman comforts the Old Mother. The Profiteer slithers through, scanning the ranks for his next goldmine, and each soldier passes under the arm of Death who cooly turns his head to the audience as if asking if we understand yet. The next five scenes enact different atrocities of war. The soldiers grapple over the stained flag as Death circles the stage with unforgiving whips of his arms. The Profiteer slides through the carnage with greedy hands to steal a coin from a corpse. The Young Maiden sways listlessly from soldier to soldier until Death protectively hovers over her limp body. In a heartbreaking solo, Beckanne Sisk as the Old Woman offers herself to Death with small resigned steps and clasped hands. Sisk was transcendent in this role, her pained gaze reaching beyond the audience with a weighted resonance that brought me to tears. Death welcomes her gently and softly carries her passive body off stage. Katlyn Addison as the Woman (a role also called the Partisan) rushes the stage with uncompromising pride. She powerfully challenges the audience as she stands in front of a firing squad of soldiers, refusing to bow to anyone save Death.

Pearson as Death approaches each scene with astounding nuance. He greets the Partisan as an equal, meets the Old Woman with tenderness and is menacing towards the Profiteer. He is efficiently cold with the soldiers. After each new kill, he looks directly at the audience, silently asking us again if we understand. In the last scene, Death bears the flag as each broken sacrifice parades past. Death returns to his earlier solo, even more powerful as if fed by the destruction. A shocking fire of a pistol brings us back to the green table. As the pianos begin the now familiar sarcastic tango, the Gentlemen in Black repeat their polite charade. Witnessing the futility of the diplomats’ twirls and bows, the audience did not laugh this time.

Ballet West’s choice of The Green Table for the last performances of their regular season is unbelievably, even disturbingly, prescient. Jooss’ seminal work, relevant as long as men profit from war, feels even more necessary given that our country, barely a day before opening night, bombed a nation to whose refugees we refuse to offer asylum from a devastating six-year-long conflict. The Green Table, a masterpiece already, becomes more vital. The ballet rises above the rest of the evening. It transcends the concert, unequivocally and eloquently speaking of the futility of war in all circumstances. I cannot imagine a more timely and needed message.

Mary Lyn Graves dances with Ririe-Woodbury, appearing in a new work by Ann Carlson this week. She will also be seen performing in the upcoming ‘very vary’ by Molly Heller in May.

RDT: Dabke

In a striking moment from Dabke, Repertory Dance Theatre’s eight performers linked arms, stomping and dipping in rhythm, they wove across the Rose Wagner stage to Ali El Deek’s crooning voice. Outbursts of solos and duets juxtaposed these group interludes, with performer Justin Bass’ rapid fire tiny foot poundings and long arabesque extensions especially memorable.

After the show, performer Lauren Curley remarked that though the performance is physically rigorous, she feels carried by the energy of the piece. Similarly, the program notes from this April 6 - 8 performance conclude that “Watching Dabke is like looking into someone’s heart or diary. The dancers let the audience see their souls, frustrations, insecurities, passions, yearnings, fears and their hope.”

I longed to be carried by the energy of the work the way that she described.

All the pieces were there; the dancing superb, the concept relevant, program notes and pre-performance documentary intended to make the work accessible. Yet, I struggled to remain engaged with the performance. Was it me? Other audience members loved the work, based on tales from social media. Maybe I wasn't present enough? Or perhaps it was something to do with the choreographic scaffold, which I did not find adequate to support the dancing or the ideas.

Dabke was developed by Zvi Gotheiner in New York, and has been performed across the nation to both acclaim and controversy. Based on the dabke, a folk dance originating in “a region of the Middle East that includes the countries of Jordan, Lebanon, Palestine, and Syria” (per the program notes), Gotheiner and company gathered material from YouTube videos and melded it with their own postmodern steps and structure, infusing their personal stories to build duets and solos.

At this point, I know you’re expecting me to write about cultural appropriation.

And yes, grappling with the violence of cultural appropriation has never been more relevant. This is true in relationship to concerns in dance - the topic of the most recent Conference on Research in Dance was “Beyond Appropriation” - and Thursday’s news of the US bombing in Syria - the latest in a complicated history of involvement. So did Gotheiner ‘do the dabke right?’ I don’t know. There were problematic elements on the one hand, but on the other hand, I appreciated and related to his honest grappling in the dance and program notes with a cultural history criss-crossed with appropriations and oppressions.Taking dances off YouTube and rearranging bits of them on stage is not a new idea. What did seem new was his frank discussion in the notes of this process and why he did it.

Fundamentally, did the staging do the piece justice?

I longed for a narrative through line that could carry me during the work, or more juxtaposition and disruption in the jarring musical transitions, amplifying the original score by Scott Killian that fades snippets of song in and out. Somehow Dabke was awkwardly between two possibilities, achieving neither one. Gotheiner played with different arrangements of dancers, steps, and music, lifted up the curtains to expose the wings, but this format of transition between duets and solos to group pieces still felt stale.

Choreographers need editors. Before my simple review hits your computer screen, at least two people will have edited it. Perhaps a similar process could have helped Gotheiner better include the audience in the satisfying emotional journey that the performers enjoyed.

If you missed Dabke, you can look check out Gotheiner’s new commission for RDT, Sacred Land/Sacred Waters.

Liz Ivkovich is the editor of the print edition of loveDANCEmore. She is putting her MFA in dance (Utah ‘16) to work for the University of Utah’s Sustainability Office and Global Change & Sustainability Center.

Ballet West II: The Little Mermaid

Avila, my five-year-old, and I went to a recent matinee performance of Ballet West’s The Little Mermaid. We both enjoyed the gorgeous dancing, and at a one hour length, it was just the right amount of time for a Saturday afternoon.

Snippets of narrative from Hans Christian Andersen’s original fairy tale helped guide the story, keeping both of us engaged in the magic. I was impressed with the integration of a multi-age cast from Ballet West II and the Ballet West Academy. The women were all stunning, especially Eliana Vogel, a young little mermaid, and Brittany Rand as a sensuously evil Sea Witch. The foppishness of the male characters made me laugh out loud, adding to the overall charm of the work. For example, I loved Niko Yaroslaski’s interpretation of the ambiguously religious priest/rabbi figure in his brief appearances 1) randomly and in a very worried manner helping the prince off the beach after his shipwreck, and 2) abruptly emerging to officiate the wedding.  

The plot is more along the lines of the original fairy tale than the Disney classic, which sparked some lively discussion during the show. Here are a few quotes from Avila:

“Everyone is a really, really good dancer.”

“I like the mermaids when the little one goes to the surface.”

“I like how she saved the prince.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell the prince that it was the little mermaid who saved him, not the other girl?”

When the little mermaid’s sisters trade their hair for a knife for the little mermaid to use to kill the prince and win back her tail, Avila loudly suggested that the little mermaid should just kill the prince’s new wife. I thought that put an interesting Fatal Attraction-esque lens on the whole story.

Avila drew this picture of the ocean waves and sea foam, seamless duets and quartets danced by the Ballet West Academy Professional Training Division, both of our favorite part.

Drawing by Avila, 5 years old, inspired by Ballet West II's The Little Mermaid.

Liz Ivkovich is the editor of the print edition of loveDANCEmore. She is putting her MFA in dance (Utah ‘16) to work for the University of Utah’s Sustainability Office and Global Change & Sustainability Center.

Tanja London & collaborators: Save Your Own Skin

The performance content of Save Your Own Skin is inspired by questions arising from a prototype of bulletproof skin and other ways that we attempt to shield ourselves from vulnerability. The collaborators of the work include Tanja London, Carloss Chamberlin, Jason Rabb, Nick Foster, Ami Hanna.

The performance takes place within a ‘thought exhibition,’ which, based on the event descriptions I had read, I initially thought meant that there would be a well-explained exhibition that would give context to the performance. It turned out a ‘thought exhibition’ can look like a modern art-inspired set with no explanation.

The thought exhibition is located in a small storefront of the Salt Lake City Public Library. Though the audience is limited to 20 people per performance, there were maybe half that many chairs at the premiere this past Friday. People who arrived less early filled up the floor space near the chairs. The audience was hushed, and it didn’t feel appropriate to speak at more than a whisper.

Slowly, I realized the cool statue near the entrance was actually a live person, dancer and thinker Tanja London, covered in blue foam triangles, Velcro-ed together to resemble a sculpture by Xavier Veilhan.

It’s unclear at what moment the performance ‘began.’ The fog machine went off three times with pauses in between each time. Then London twitched - or did she?

For a long time she barely moved. Gradually her movements became larger. They were stiff and ungraceful. Bit by bit, London broke through her costume, and of course was wearing nude clothing underneath. Nude costuming is commonly used in modern dance, because it’s visually striking and because it suggests the ideas of natural, vulnerable, and human. This costume change said to me, ‘you’re more natural yet more vulnerable without the man-made things you surround yourself with.’

At some point within this first section of the performance, a thin bright blue line of light in the shape of a rhombus was cast across London’s scene. I felt this made this part of the experience less enjoyable, but maybe that was the intention.

Blue triangles shed, London ducked under and behind the sheer white fabric that decorates the space. She proceeded to press her way along the fabric stretched in front of the walls, interacting with it in a manner that seemed an expansion of a concept that Salt Lake City has recently seen from SBDance, which they first showcased in their Wine Theater Food and Box Bar performances of early 2016.

Much of the audience had to move to different seating arrangements in order to get a view of London as she transitioned from section I to section II. There were great moments of quiet eye contact and smiles that seemed to say ‘modern dance, right?’ and people scooting over to make room for others on the floor.

Emerging from behind the fabric, London’s quality of movement had, thankfully, changed from section I, to become more natural and attractive. In section II, London expressed vulnerability, wearing nude-colored clothing, fumbling with the thin ropes and carabiners that dangled from around her waist, asking the audience for help her with clipping the lines to various parts of the set, stumbling around within her skirt-turned-stage. It struck me as wonderful use of space as a collaborator, and a great way to involve the audience in the experience of vulnerability.

Vocal text accompanied London’s movement, in what is called by the performance’s program ‘a quote clash collage’ including London’s own thoughts and quotes from 20 other sources. It covered a wide range of topics, all vaguely related. There were fragments about technological improvements, and war and security as their justifications, and lots of repetitions of ‘man-made.’

She asked us to consider ‘this’ the ‘house of white supremacy,’ and asked if we felt at home. Silent answer: um, no, not really, when you put it like that.

The ambient music began to seem more involved with the live dancer / speaker, at times echoing her words. Live musicians, Rabb and Foster, were attentive to London’s actions, glancing back and forth between her and the keys of their laptops and their unique percussive instruments while staying aware of each other’s cues.

Among their instruments was a fork-sized rocking statue of a seahorse in a top hat, which at first rocked regularly, and I thought maybe it was a quirky metronome. Later, a percussion performer put what looked like a water glass beside it, so that the seahorse knocked into it making great clinking noises.

Also notable was what I will call a ‘tiny woodpecker with crazy hair’ that a musician placed along the top of a thin rod, allowing it to vibrate and make quiet pecking noises as it slid down the rod. Really, I recommend making sure to go see these guys perform live. I hope they read my descriptive attempts and get a good laugh.

After allowing myself to be distracted by Rabb and Foster, I turned my attention back to London. She suggested that vulnerability is what has made humans ‘the dominant species’ on Earth. I waited for an explanation, but she offered none directly. Instead I thought about it some more after the show and realized that our attempts to make up for our vulnerability have driven much of our technological progress.

Interesting point. I like the idea that vulnerability drives us. But don’t many other species also have vulnerabilities, and also come up with ways to make up for them?

Throughout sections II and III, softer and less colorful light projections rolled across the dancer and set. These projections successfully added to the enthralling nature of the performance, and maybe to the sense of passing time and of complication.

Section III involved a costume change, and continuous interaction with an unexplained prop that looked like a clear blow-up doughnut with blue dots, about as tall as London’s shoulder height. She rolled around in the doughnut. She stood inside the doughnut and let her neck ooze/flop around, and her arms drape over the edges as she spoke - it was lovely.

Probably my favorite moment of the whole performance was when London lounged on top of the doughnut like a goddess and said ‘superiority!’ in a manner of someone letting you in on a brilliant scheme or a joke that she knew you still didn’t quite get. She then folded in half, sinking through the doughnut hole.

Overall, Save Your Own Skin could be described as interesting, frustrating, and draining - as was likely the intention. The performance ended somewhat abruptly when London’s vocal text brought attention to the present, she released the doughnut, letting it roll and settle, and the lights went dark.

The small audience clapped for longer than politeness required as the lights came back on. London beamed, thanked us, and offered a Q and A session that she took longer to make good on than I was patient enough to wait.

Kendall Fischer currently performs with Myriad Dance, and has also enjoyed recent opportunities with SBDance, Municipal Ballet Co, La Rouge Entertainment, and Voodoo Productions, among others.