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.