UtahPresents: SALT Contemporary Dance in "The Bridge"

As I was watching The Bridge, commissioned by UtahPresents, I realized it was what I have hoped to see from SALT Contemporary Dance all along.

The show was continuous and cohesive, which I loved. I appreciate the departure from SALT’s previous usual format of presenting collections of works by different choreographers.

The Bridge was based on a short story called “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” by Ambrose Bierce. It was apparent that this story had strong and specific meaning to the performers, yet the execution was not burdened by an attempt to be overly clear about the exact happenings of the story and characters. This allowed audience members to interpret the work through the lenses of their own personal experiences.

The dancing was strong, controlled, fluid, and beautiful. SALT features a roster of highly talented performers, and it was nice to see some different artists this time around. Most notably, Ching Ching Wong, whom I hadn’t seen perform with SALT before, was a soloist in this work, and deservingly so. The other soloist, Eldon Johnson, was amazing as always. The rest of the cast, mostly in roles more supporting than spotlighted, was excellent as well.

I can only think of one tiny, picky complaint about the dancers’ execution in this work: in a series of many repetitions of falling to the ground (choreographically, fascinating to watch), while there were many instances of full commitment, I wasn’t completely convinced every time. Granted, this was an exhausting section of the piece, and falling to the floor with apparent lack of control is not easy to do, from a mental standpoint not to mention the physical aspect. So I still commend the dancers for each successfully committed repetition they made.

I appreciate that the choreography, by New York-based Brendan Duggan in partnership with the dancers, was both unique and beautiful (in contrast with how some choreographers may create as if they assume those two qualities are mutually exclusive). The strengths of the dancers were well-utilized, without being showy to the point of distracting from the story.

The pacing throughout The Bridge varied perfectly to keep the audience captivated. A long intro allowed the audience time to tune in to the live music and the pensive lighting, and to connect with the mood being set, before the dancers were even seen. Movement began slowly, with Ching Ching Wong and Eldon Johnson walking, and doing other pedestrian movements, progressing into partner work that exhibited brilliant control and grace while succeeding at naturally conveying a loving and comfortable relationship. Later, momentum built, and the speed of movement and the number of layers existing at once increased. At the end, we got to see more partnering between Wong and Johnson, including some repetition from the beginning choreography, but this time with a different mood.

I was glad that this expanded upon the standard “A-B-A” format, which I feel like I’ve seen enough of. The similarities between the beginning and the end were enough to tie them together, but the differences were enough to add meaning, taking this choice beyond the choreographic crutch that A-B-A can be.

SALT Contemporary Dance in Utah Presents’ The Bridge. Set by Christian Bell; photo by Jake Eveler.

The set, by Christian Bell, was memorable and well-utilized. Two vertically hung curtains of ropes created divides which might have represented time and/or alternate realities. In one section of the choreography, the dancers brushed past the ropes causing them to sway mesmerizingly, adding to the chaos of the moment. At another point, several dancers each looped one rope around several others, creating a visual effect like drawn curtains, maybe symbolizing clarity. The ropes also tied into Bierce’s short story, in which the protagonist is tied up and about to be hung.

The lighting, by Jaron Kent Hermansen, was both visually stunning and effective at conveying mood and meaning. I appreciated how the lighting was designed in conjunction with the set, playing upon the ropes.

The live music, by Stuart Maxfield with brother Andrew Maxfield (both of Fictionist), was perfectly cohesive with the dancing. The unique and varied, yet continuous, sound supported the dancing, while being neither distracting nor boring. Stuart Maxfield worked in silhouette behind the dancers the entire time, which I felt connected the dance and the music, again without allowing the music to distract from the dance.

Overall, The Bridge was captivating, different, and beautiful. I very much look forward to seeing SALT keep up with this new standard that they have set for themselves with this project.

Ching Ching Wong and Eldon Johnson of SALT Contemporary Dance in Utah Presents’ The Bridge. Photo by Jake Eveler.

Kendall Fischer is the artistic director of Myriad Dance Company, and has enjoyed performing opportunities with Voodoo Productions, SBDance, Municipal Ballet Co., and La Rouge Entertainment, among others. Her choreography has been performed by Myriad, Municipal Ballet, and at Creator's Grid, and her dance film project “Breathing Sky” received the 2017 Alfred Lambourne Movement prize.

SALT: Spring Concert

At 7:24 p.m., I stepped into the Jeanne Wagner Theatre for SALT Contemporary Dance’s 7:30 p.m. Spring Concert, to find dancers already onstage. I felt slightly guilty walking in during a performance, but other audience members were doing the same, and I heard whispers about this being the pre-show.

Some of SALT’s key branding points are that they are the second largest dance company in Salt Lake (now encompassing SALT and SALT II, as well as a junior and senior company for ages 12-18), and that they are bringing new, cutting-edge dance to Utah. I was glad to see their senior company perform (if only briefly this time), and would be interested to see the junior company at some point too.

After finishing a piece choreographed by SALT company member Logan McGill, the senior company took their bow, and then crawled backward to stand up and take a smaller bow, which I thought was a nice detail.

After a pause right at 7:30 p.m., “Stand by Me,” the first main company piece, began with the house lights still on. The stage was littered with a hundred oranges, and two dancers began slowly and carefully rolling one between their bodies. It was absolutely beautiful and unique, and accompanied by peaceful, pleasant music that helped set the tone. At a V.I.P. event the previous week, Spanish choreographer Gustavo Ramirez Sansano mentioned he was inspired by a game that children play with oranges in his home country.

After this had gone on for a while, more couples joined the scene, and the house lights dimmed. A sense of loss was palpable when one half of a couple abruptly left, neglecting the orange and letting it drop to the floor. It made me think of the Spanish phrase “media naranja,” which translates literally to “half orange” and refers to a concept similar to “my other half” or “you complete me.”

After another pause, SALT II performed “I Love You,” by Portland-based artist Katie Scherman. The dancers impressed me with their fluidity and control. They looked like they had been training hard, and training smart, since I last saw them in concert this past fall. It was also a somewhat different group than previously.

I loved the gesture phrases in “I Love You,” including some heart-shaped hands. I was impressed with the execution of wavy shoulder moves, and of a solo with a lengthy balance following a one-footed élevé.

“Beyond the Limitation,” by Joni McDonald and SALT artists, premiered last fall and was reworked a bit for this presentation. This time, the music was more unique and the intention seemed clearer.

In the fall, there had been three couples doing the same choreography at the same time for some parts, but this time, there were two couples for the most part who took turns dancing (the stage-right couple moved for a bit while the stage-left couple sat still in the dark, and then the lighting drew attention to the stage-left couple’s movement, as stage-right darkened).

The first time I saw it, the intent of the piece had been unclear beyond a heaviness in personal interaction. This time, I noticed distinctly that there were moments of missed connection, which I found very interesting. For example, one dancer would reach for another just as she was moving out of the space within which he would have been able to touch her. McDonald is absolutely brilliant at partner work, and I’m so glad that she was able to continue to explore this piece.

Following an intermission, Eric Handman’s “Cloudrunner” showcased intricate, group-interactive choreography. Some of the phrases were repeated facing different directions, a choreographic technique that can be tiresome, but that in this case stayed exciting, allowing the audience to notice different aspects of what took place each time.

I particularly enjoyed when two female dancers lifted Eldon Johnson off the ground, his arms over their shoulders, and Johnson pantomimed running in mid-air – which tied into the piece's title for me. I also always appreciate when dancers who are not the smallest onstage are lifted – when the group makes something work without doing it the easiest way.

The final piece of the concert was “Proverb,” by Banning Bouldin, which was memorable for the well-utilized costuming of nude bodysuits and long, sheer, puffy black skirts. According to the choreographer’s program notes and a previous conversation with Johnson, the skirts represented the weight of regrets the dancers carried with them. The movement was appropriately heavy for this theme.

For me, the most striking image in this piece was when Arianna Brunell took on an extra-immense skirt of regrets, built up underneath her by the other dancers whose shoulders she sat on, with everyone’s skirts trailing out behind her in a long train.

By the end, all the dancers had shed their skirts/regrets, which, knowing the intended symbolism, was something I was really hoping would happen. Johnson kept his skirt on the longest, and I could see his relative heaviness as he interacted with the skirtless dancers toward the end.

The piece finished with a repetition of Brunell’s extra-immense regrets shape, only without the skirts this time. The tone was still somber, although I had hoped that the dancers would feel lighter without the weight of their skirts. But maybe the similarity could show that you never know just by looking at someone what they might be carrying around with them.

Overall, SALT’s Spring Concert presented a great collection of well-executed choreography with interesting concepts and unique visuals. I look forward to enjoying more from SALT in the future.

Kendall Fischer is artistic director of Myriad Dance Company, for whom she also choreographs and performs. She performed with a variety of local groups, including Voodoo Productions, SBDance, Municipal Ballet Co., and La Rouge Entertainment. In 2017, Kendall’s dance film project, “Breathing Sky,” received the Alfred Lambourne Prize for movement.

SALT II: In Concert at the Rose

SALT II, the junior company of SALT Contemporary Dance, had its first full length show at the Leona Wagner Black Box this past weekend. It showcased thirteen strong female dancers that approached the program’s seven works with artistry and technical skill.

The lights brighten to a soundless scape of several couples buttressing up against one another, shoulders to chins and chins to shoulders. This symbiotic relationship eventually gives way to more conflicted ones in local dancer and choreographer Eldon Johnson’s The Truth Of The Matter Is. Structurally this piece vacillates between animal-like movements, the spine continually experiencing a tickle that can’t be scratched, and brief moments of stillness, the dancers forming human still-lifes that are framed against a red cyc.

The large cast number settles into a duet with dancers Haleigh Larmer and Morgan Phillips that features innovative partnering that could be categorized as the great-granddaughter of contact improvisation and a cousin to contemporary ballet. It incorporates the idea that  ‘any body part can be a support structure’ paired with clear and clean lines splicing and undulating through the space.

Jessica Liu multitasks as dancer, SALT II assistant director, and choreographer of Preserved Peals, and shines in this duet with guest artist Ismael Arrieta. This piece starts with an upbeat song by Bahamas and a hit-hit-gesture rhythm. Liu is that rare dancer that showcases beautiful lines with grounded strength, and attention to detail while gobbling up the space. In this piece she manages to do all this while exuding a believable joy and feel-good happiness. It’s believable in part because I cannot doubt it would feel amazing to dance that well.

Arrieta does his part in keeping up with Liu, and displays his own brand of laidback California cool. The work has a middle section of weight, release, and rest, but does not dwell there, instead quickly returning to high wattage, sparkling movement. The dancers end by sprinting offstage.

Deditionem by Mady Beighley, Dust Seeds Clouds by Gabrielle Lamb and Tracing the Steps You Left Behind by Jason Parsons were well-investigated and deserving of singular attention, but suffered because they were all full-cast pieces positioned one after another and drew on similar movement sensibilities. The inclusion of a sock-induced slide is one of those sensibilities, (are bare feet bygones of yesterday?) and while this move worked well in Preserved Peals (because it had the fun and frolic of a Tom Cruise in Risky Business moment), it felt contrived in the other pieces.

Distinguishing characteristics of the Beighley, Lamb, and Parsons pieces are:

• The slight Pina Baush Rite of Spring-feel to Deditionem, complete with Hayley Smihula as the sacrifice in white.  The movie-esque score by Johann Johannsson helps elevate the drama and crystalize the stakes.

• Lamb’s piece uses the instantly recognizable music of Zoe Keating, which is just waiting to be used in concert dance again and again and again as it so clearly provides a dynamic structure and rich texture with which to base movement off. The score drives and fills and emotes urgency and modern-day drama. That being said, the choreography of this work has its own two legs, and ends with a beautiful solo by Lauren Bonan while the rest of the cast bears witness upstage.

• This was the second time I watched SALT II perform Tracing The Steps You Left Behind, and this showing felt more distilled and seasoned than the first. Amy Falls reviewed the first showing, and while much stays the same, the unfocused walking seems to have been replaced with a simmering undercurrent of control and predator/prey relationship.

A welcomed departure was Joni McDonald’s solo for McKenna Chugg.  While it did not take pains to explore theme or variation, it was refreshing in terms of costume (a bright red leotard), showcased a single dancer in the space, and ended abruptly.

The evening concluded with BODYTRAFFIC dancer Lindsey Matheis’ Chimera, and after reading that a chimera is a single organism composed of cells from different zygotes (in other words, one thing can in fact be many things combined), this piece is appropriately titled.  The work begins like Johnny Depp in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, full of mischievous wonder and magic, and ends as Depp in the snow scene from Edward Scissorhands, dancers bathed in white, both sculptural and yearning in the space.

In my wildest fantasy, guest artist Logan McGill would not be the only male and the one gifted the role of puppeteer in Chimera. He sauntered around the cast of women, controlling them with his gaze and movements, even at one point leading out two crawling ladies as if they were animals on leashes; but this is Matheis’ world, not mine.

Despite this grievance, Chimera is an interesting, even spell-binding piece that has lingering theatricality and an unpredictability that has stayed with me long after the lights went dark.  

Erica Womack is a choreographer based in Salt Lake. She is also an adjunct faculty member at SLCC.