Roxanne Gray curates a mix of border art and dance

Over at Finch Lane, 801 Salon opened their gallery show Nepantla: Border Arte on Friday, April 18. Nepantla showcases the Hispanic and immigrant identities of its artists, and their experiences navigating identity in a country with a history of cultural erasure. The work showed tradition, craftsmanship, great use of different media and materials, and a beautiful pride built through resilience and love.

Roxanne Gray remounted her work, itself called Nepantla, which also explores identity and resilience. During the first section, the dancers made their breath purposely audible. The breaths were rhythmic, and at times it felt like they were really animating the dance. The performers were wearing bright colors and flowing skirts which were used to create movements in a style similar to Mexican folklórico. Modern dance was also embedded seamlessly with the traditional styles. Since the audience was seated in the round, the flow of the skirt would sometimes create a breeze in our direction. Full of breath and flow, the piece truly felt alive.

Photo by Edison Corvera.

At one point the dancers dispersed, and Leslie Jara entered the space sporting a Rapunzel-like hair prop, a long braid with a red ribbon. The solo starts to build a narrative with Jara gathering up the braid to a sounds resembling tension on a rope. Sometimes, the tension snaps but Jara continues her efforts to gather the hair. Jara breaks this repetition by going to make a shape with the hair on the floor then sitting inside this shape. The imagery of sitting in the space she created tugged at my heart strings. I thought of my own parents. They too were trying to create space for themselves in foreign land while still keeping their cultural identity alive.

After the solo, the other dancers join the floor. The energy was up, and the dancers would take up the space while cheering each other and the audience on. Sometimes the dancers would traverse the space together, sometimes one would take a turns occupying the whole floor. Either way, the cheering continued. Festivities kept going on. Yes, these dancers are powerhouses — having the dancers move while celebrating each other was moving. I could not stop smiling.

This exhibit is healing and necessary during our current political climate. Art has a power to reflect what’s going on in society, and this exhibit and dance reflects the beauty and resilience of a community. Relatives before the current generation were given an important task keeping culture close whilst finding kin within a new community. Today, we thank our past relatives and we continue to honor our cultures by evolving. By doing so, we allow our community to grow and support each other the best we can.

(Also recently having been performed at the Rose, Nepantla originally started as a part of Gray’s MFA thesis research, and the cast is raising money to take the work to the American College Dance Association Gala in Washington DC.)

Edison Corvera (they/them) is currently a queer Filipinx performer living around the SLC area. They attended Southern Utah University and studied theater arts and dance performance. Since moving to the Salt Lake area, Edison has worked with Myriad Dance, Ogden Movement Collective, and SONDERimmersive. Whatever artistry they find, Edison hopes to continue to find ways to implement their art with the community around them.

Pole dancing, tree tops, and sunsets

The stained glass windows at Salt Lake City’s Church & State reflected a moving performance by Morgan Phillips and Nora Price. ROOTS, performed the evening of April 12, was described as “a night of contemporary pole, original music, and film.” The event was filled with stunning moments of improvisation, skill, and choice.  The sunset flooded through the windows as audience members entered the venue, performers greeting people as they arrived. To my utmost excitement, a dog sat in the front row.

The program also stated that ROOTS would be “an exploration of movement and music drawn from our earliest memories, defining personality traits and the places where we feel the most grounded to ourselves.” The performers invited the viewer into intimate creations through music, film, and movement. The night began with Nora Price on the guitar. Chords echoed off the walls and cathedral ceiling as the space filled with sound. Lighting by Tori Meyer shined throughout the performance with color stories of warm and cool lighting intersecting and playing off of one another, similar to the two performers. As Price was playing the opening of the performance, her body was cast in blue light, a motif that continued throughout the night. To add further depth to the sound score, Price incorporated vocals that were hauntingly beautiful, using what appeared to be an old telephone. 

Phillips then approached the pole, the light from the projector casting her shadow on the screen behind them. I was stunned at the ease and physicality that Phillips displayed. There was a strong sense of both stability and risk in her movement. Film of tree tops filled the projector, a scene that transported me to memories of my childhood, looking up at the light peeking between the leaves. The pole mirrored one of these trees projected on screen, acting as a natural tether between Phillips and the space. Later on in the work, Phillips places one hand on top of another as she climbs higher and higher on the pole. As she reached the top, Phillips peered out at the audience with a look resembling longing. I found this moment impactful, a sense of struggle and triumph wonderfully articulated.

Partnering between the performers was exquisite. Their bodies created images of support that stuck with me in the days following the performance. I was not able to identify what was choreographed and what was improvised, solidifying a sense of connection and trust in each other. How can dancers partner with something separating them? And how can that very thing lead them to be more interconnected? Phillips embodied Price’s score throughout the night with her movement quality and performance. It was truly magical.

Allison Shafter is the 2024-25 loveDANCEmore intern.

Flamenco at Westminster

This past weekend, the Florence J. Gillmore School of Music at Westminster University presented A’Lante Flameco, a company based out of Ausitn Texas run by Isai and Olivia Chacon. This particular show was called Amor Flamenco, and was a love letter to flamenco. Oliva Chacon, originally from Texas, the artistic director, choreographer, and dancer, has been immersed in flamenco for twenty years, and spent five years studying and performing in Seville and Madrid, Spain, places that have rich flamenco history. Isai Chacon, the musical director, singer and guitarist, is originally from Mexico, but also lived for a time in Madrid, Spain accompanying many of the world’s best flamenco artists. 

Photo by Doug Carter.

I am hardly well-versed in the world of flamenco, however I did spend a year in college living in Granada, Spain, which is another epicenter for this art form. I took flamenco dance lessons while I was there, and fell in love with the passion, intensity, and musical complexity of this form. I will never forget watching my first performance; I sat front and center in an outdoor venue, unable to take a full breath the entire night. I was utterly transfixed, and so was then curious how I would feel twenty five years later, sitting in Salt Lake City, Utah watching flamenco. For me, it was equally as powerful, and this was a well programmed performance showcasing talent, artistic maturity, and a range of human emotion.

The first piece of the night, Ni de Aqui, Ni de Alla combined musical influences from Mexico, Cuba, and Spain, which spoke about the various cultural identities represented, and what it means to belong and honor immigrant stories. When vocalist Celia Corrales Sellers began singing it was impossible to not feel the sadness that can arise from complex situations, whether they be lost love, displacement, or mortality. The dancers added to the musical landscape by clapping and hitting their bodies, in between the rhythms  created by their feet and the swirling and twisting of their torsos. They created a beautiful community on the stage, each performer seamlessly going in and out of the spotlight, like a long braid being formed before our eyes.

In Cuando Yo Me Muera, Sofia Hurtado dances the somber seguiriya using the manton de Manila, which is an ornate shawl. She twists and turns with the fringed fabric, creating movement trails and pathways that long surpass her own limbs. Her facial expressions are serious and at times pained, which is common to see in this form where it feels like the audience is gifted a glimpse into the performer's deep emotional, and more often than not, sad storytelling.   

Spain, composed by Chick Corea and Paseando por La Havana (Guajiras), choreographed by Bianca Rodiguez and arranged musically by Isai Chacon and Jose Manuel Tejeda, both explore lighter experiences of the human condition. Rodriguez coyly incorporates a fan, and playfully dances around herself, the fan opening, closing and obscuring various parts of her body in conjunction to the beats of the music.

In the final piece of the night, Hacia la Mar la Vela (Cantinas) Olivia Chacon dances one of the most popular styles of flamenco, which is the Alegrias de Cadiz. She dances with her bata de cola, which is a long ruffled red train. It extends several yards behind her, creating a visual of red waves lapping against the shore. When she wants to display her footwork, the zapateado, she gathers up the train in one hand and throws it over her shoulder, like a backpack. The long train is her partner, giving more visual interest to the dance, and also creating logistics to explore and solve. This piece was a wonderful ending to a wonderful night, and what a treat it was for Salt Lake to be visited by this company.

Erica Womack is a Salt Lake City-based dance educator and choreographer.

Victor Quijada brings a pleasing mixed-bill to Kingsbury

A thirteen year old, a forty-three year old, and a seventy-three year old walk into Kingsbury Hall to watch UtahPresents host Rubberband Vic’s Mix, a compilation of Victor Quijada’s works. Can this concert please all of these ladies from very different generations? The answer is a resounding yes! This was a fantastic evening of dance, and my mom, my daughter and I all left the theatre energized, excitedly talking about the show. We had that post show buzz, the distinct feeling of knowing that you were a part of something special, that you witnessed other humans in a creative, elevated state. In this scenario it was a company of seven athletic dancers performing a choreographic style that blends hip hop and contemporary dance with classical music. Quijada opened the show introducing himself and his journey, he grew up in Los Angeles and was swept up in hip hop culture. That was his first exposure to dance, and he found it empowering. When he was later introduced to modern dance and ballet, he felt he had to choose a direction. He chose the latter, and had a successful career with Rudy Perez and Twyla Tharp. He eventually moved to Canada and started to develop the Rubberband Method, which explores the combination of urban pop and classical composition. The first section of works were choreographed between 2002 and 2005, and showcased the beginning of his movement vocabulary. The second half of the night, choreographed between 2006 and 2014, relied on this established language to go beyond movement exploration and say something more.    

Secret Service, the opening section, uses Sergei Prokofiev's iconic score that is also used in the classical ballet Romeo and Juliet during the Dance of the Knights. I have always loved this section of the ballet, it’s a menacing line dance showcasing ornate costuming, strict family order, and tradition. Quijada’s version matches the intensity of the music with full-bodied movement, the dancers urgently moving in and out of the floor with recognizable moves from hip hop. They’re clad in pedestrian clothes and boots, and the classical score often offers a feeling of vulnerability that the athletic movement sometimes lacks.

In the following section, Meditations, with music from Jasper Gahunia, we see partner work, which is not something you often find in hip hop. Men sharing weight with women and vice versa, various body parts used as levers and fulcrums, liquid spines — these are all traditions within contact improvisation. 

Photo by Bill Herbert, courtesy of UtahPresents.

Mi Verano, with music from Antonio Vivaldi, has delightful musicality with moments of laugh out loud playfulness. Towards the end of the work, two men hold up the two women in a sustained lift, and when they put them down they rub their backs, with exaggerated expressions of exhaustion and pain. It was all perfectly musical, and reminded me of a hip hop version of a Mark Morris piece. As soon as it ended I wished I could rewatch it from the beginning. 

Photo by Michael Slobodian, courtesy of UtahPresents.

In Second Coming, we once again see Quijada’s sense of play and humor as three dancers fight over whose turn it is to begin their solo. They clarify with the sound booth how their solo starts, and it all develops into an entertaining trio of the blended music of Beethoven, Paganini, and Bach. The three dancers' personalities collide alongside their movements, and they bring new theatrics and complexity to the traditional dance battle.  

The night ended with a dance circle, complete with Quijada taking his turn to the delight of the audience. It was an appropriate nod to his upbringing, and further highlighted that social dance forms have what concert dance sometimes lacks: fun, community, and a groovy good time. That being said this show wove all these aspects seamlessly throughout the night, including artistic and choreographic excellence.  

Erica Womack is a Salt Lake City-based dance educator and choreographer.

Ririe-Woodbury presents Kellie St. Pierre, jo Blake and Raja Feather Kelly

Ririe-Woodbury Dance Company’s RE-MIX performance captivated audiences from beginning to end, demonstrating strength during times of tumultuousness. The winter performance at the Rose Wagner Theatre ran to sold out crowds.The show consisted of three works, Scenes for an Ending choreographed by Raja Feather Kelly, coincidental, coincidences choreographed by jo Blake, and The Rate We Change choreographed by Kellie St. Pierre. 

Scenes for an Ending opened the show. The stage lights revealed the company dancers laying across the stage sandwiched between LED light panels. The dancers wore tennis shoes, shorts, and jeans, appearing as if they were abruptly pulled from outside the theater. A stunning musical score by Emily Wells accompanied the dancers as they transitioned into increasingly largel movement. Kelly, the choreographer, described the piece as “a love letter to the past,” a work that “is and is not dance.” Moments of intense physicality were contrasted by overt tenderness. Duets depicted relationships of strife and ease with forced pulling and cautious holding happening in close succession. Sections of unison held the power generated by the friction of subtle differences between each dancer as they broke out of the cyclical steps. I found a dream-like quality to the movement despite its intensity. Fausto Rivera and Luke Dakota performed a duet that left audiences on the edge of their seat, wishing both to lean in and back away from each moment between the dancers. In an impactful sequence near the end, dancers would abruptly lead each other to the ground with an initial jolt followed by care to protect their person. I find myself continuing to relive moments of the piece.

The second work was titled coincidental, coincidences. This work choreographed by jo Blake was paired with an original score from Trevor Price, a Salt Lake City composer. The expanse and groundedness of the movement was striking. Projections of natural environments appeared on the scrim molding an environment that the company and audience began to feel immersed in. One particular gesture, the circling of a straight arm, stuck with me. The sweeping yet angular arm movements reminded me of a clock. In times of uncertainty, the visual felt all the more powerful as it was urgent yet fluid. The piece split the companies into two trios for long movement phrases and partnering. Standout moments appear from dancers Megan McCarthy and Sasha Rydlizky who had the most beautiful leg movements dispersed between their work within the trios; legs poking through and above the other dancers. The precise nature of those movements again reminded me of hands on a wall clock. The groups themselves were separated by space but occurring at the same time, metaphoric of the lived experiences that can mirror and repeat. There was a weight to the piece, but a hope that was conveyed through the movement and spoken word incorporated in the work. The piece left me with a sense of wonder and determination, leading audiences into intermission. 

The final work, The Rate We Change was paired with an original score from Salt Lake composer Daniel Clifton. St. Pierre described the work as inspired by “the effect of ongoingness”. The work featured a prop, a spinning circular platform manned by the dancers. Lighting remained isolated to the prop and those within its vicinity. A whirlwind erupted on stage with constant motion and the changing of shapes, qualities, and speeds. I was shocked by the pure risk of the dancers as they jumped on and off the moving platform with dual caution and abandonment. Further ingenuity was employed by how the dancers kept the prop in motion, some utilizing their hands, their feet, or the force of jumping on and off the prop. Miché Smith holds a presence during performances that felt even further amplified on the spinning prop showcasing both strength and fluidity. Nick Elizondo shocked audiences with his particularly fearless quality, at one point flipping off of the spinning platform. Clifton’s track maintained an intensity that matched the piece, the score mimicking a ticking clock. I found the noise of the platform intriguing as well, at some points you could not tell what was being produced by the sound score or by the motion of the prop. It felt like an experience rather than a performance.

I found the RE-MIX show to be excellent. There is something special about the stage presence and conviction of Ririe-Woodbury company members. Every dancer brings an energy and commitment that stands on its own while aiding to the collective strength of the company. Choices feel deliberate and lived in, truly a wonderful experience to witness as an audience member. 

Allison Shafter is the 2024-25 loveDANCEmore intern.