Wasatch Contemporary Dance Company: Nerve and Sinew

What is contemporary dance?

As a dancer myself, I have encountered this question more times than I can count; Wasatch Contemporary Dance Company attempted to answer it with Nerve and Sinew. The performance spanned multiple techniques and featured pieces by both established professionals and emerging artists. I appreciated the performance’s variety but, at seven pieces, it felt a bit long.

When I think of contemporary dance, I tend to think more along the lines of the pop, “So You Think You Can Dance” sense of the term; a coupling of emotion, narrative, and both ballet and jazz techniques. Each of the pieces in Nerve and Sinew included elements of this to varying degrees of success. However, purely from a performance standpoint, the first act felt questionable: the dancers did not seem to be physically invested in the movement, which left the choreography feeling forced.

I am familiar with Eric Handman’s work, so his piece, “Permanent Now,” was to me the biggest victim on the program of lack of energy - it was missing the tension, vigor, and attention to detail that is most often present in his work.

On the other end of the spectrum, Lyndi Coles presented a new piece, “Spill,” that was so full of energy that there was a lack of attention to technique in moments of suspension, and instead the focus seemed to be on presenting tricks (i.e., high lifts and the dancers throwing themselves to the floor).

WCDC also presented a piece by Angela Banchero-Kelleher, which invoked emotions and sensations of Americana through its color palette and score. However, the political sentiment expressed in the program notes simply didn’t come through in the choreography. A lack of desperation and of authentic weight-sharing, as well as forced facial expressions, left the piece devoid of any real emotion. That being said, the piece’s ending trio of duets set to Johnny Cash was incredibly satisfying.

The first act concluded with a solo choreographed by Sarah Donohue, “Luz e Lorraine,” that featured Lyndi Coles. It is always a pleasure to watch Coles, and I was excited to see this piece again after first having seen it at Brine last fall. I was slightly disappointed, however, as the characterization of Coles comedically reacting to a spotlight felt completely different than that found throughout the rest of the piece. This stood out to me because Coles is such a controlled and fluid performer - but the moments of comedy looked unfamiliar to her body.

Going into the second act, I was prepared to continue to feel as ambivalent as I did in the first; instead, I felt like I was watching a completely different show, each piece more exciting than the last.

I had no idea that the Regent Street Black Box at the Eccles Theater housed floor-to-ceiling windows, but Jocelyn Smith opened the back curtain in her new piece, “Melodic Jargon,” to reveal complementary natural light. The dancers directed both the audience and themselves in rhythmic patterns that provided the score for the piece. The dancing didn’t always match the joy and energy of the rhythms, but the dancers did seem to experience joy.

WCDC also shared a work they’ve performed before by Brooklyn Draper, entitled “unaccustomed acquaintances.” Out of the whole program, I would argue that this piece was the least “contemporary,” but it was very successful. Each of the four dancers was committed to the awkward movement material and, without necessarily trying to be humorous, the piece felt unexpected in its held shapes, unheard whispers, and embodied characters.

Jake Casey’s “pop.” was the final piece on the program. The company’s performance and ongoing commitment, a strong duet by Coles and Smith, and the piece’s overall intensity made “pop.” the only piece that indicated to me that WCDC is in fact a professional company.

I went through a range of emotions during Nerve and Sinew. As a modern dancer, I often hear “contemporary” dance getting a bad rap. However, when it’s performed with commitment and gives a real experience of emotion, it too can be powerful, as demonstrated on this program.

In its 10th year, I hope that WCDC will continue to define its voice as a company and to hone in on what makes it successful. I could have watched the last two pieces of Nerve and Sinew over and over and would have continued to find exciting new details because of the dancers’ commitment and relationship to the movement. Regardless of the genre of dance in question, it’s those two things that connect performers and audience.

Natalie Gotter is a performer, choreographer, instructor, filmmaker, and researcher. She recently completed her MFA in Modern Dance at the University of Utah and is on faculty at Utah Valley University, Westminster College, and Salt Lake Community College.

The Penguin Lady: Tarot

The Penguin Lady, a collective headed by Natosha Washington, showed their evening-length work Tarot at the beautiful Beverley Taylor Sorenson Arts and Education Complex. The show runs Thursday through Saturday, and despite it being smack in the middle of the holiday bustle, most seats in the black box were filled on Thursday night. Washington has been a presence in the Salt Lake dance scene for a number of years, presenting works through various venues and formats; this is her most ambitious and strongest work to date.

The cast includes ten women, all adept performers that were able to execute what was demanded, and Washington did well to feature each dancer so that by the end of the night we felt as if each personality was revealed. The entire piece runs for about an hour, with no intermission, and features one investigated idea, a welcomed break from the multiple-works format that has become common.  

The lights brighten to reveal the cast standing on two large tables designed by board member Matt Sincell. Accompanied by ambient rain sounds and wearing stark black dresses with long slits up the sides, the dancers take turns moving atop the table, highlighting a quality and structure that is recognizable from previous choreographies by Washington. For example, gestures often ending with a punch or a beat, rolling through the spine or trailing through the head to ultimately end with an extended leg. This way of moving is lush and expressive and often carries a sense of accessible urgency.   

At one point, the dancers each pull out a tarot card that had been hiding in their costume, come off the table, and form a V with Chelsea Rowe at the downstage apex. This was the first of the several moments of striking visual power: ten severe women in formation as if they are a community of witches readying themselves for a night of ritual. Rowe does well as this central character, applying just the right amount of drama and gravitas, without ever slipping into the well of melodrama that we often see indulged by younger dancers. In this section the continued motif of raised elbows, spread hands, and simmering and shaking as if possessed or possessing is further developed and establishes that perhaps otherworldly powers are being channeled.  

New sections emerge with the dancers shifting the tables and chairs, creating architectural tension. In a spellbinding duet between Lauren Payne and Jocelyn Smith, the cast sits in various configurations on the tables and chairs, often viscerally responding to what is taking place center stage. These ripples do little to add dimension, but like the townspeople reacting and conversing in a story ballet, they acknowledge that what is occurring is a group experience.

Payne and Smith dance with an interconnectedness that isn’t the result of bodies actually touching, but rather a keen awareness of one another and their relationship in space. Once Payne and Smith separate to different tables, the spell is broken and the intensity of the moment dissipates.    

The piece continues at an engaging pace: trios and duets, solos and layered group sections with and without the props, moving the props, fully exploring the props, all serving to create a multi-layered and dynamic stage.  Most aspects work well to create this desired effect, while just a couple fell short. At one point, Danell Hathaway solos downstage while tarot cards are thrown at her feet. She continues to move among the cards, and while I can assume that they were included to layer meaning and metaphor, for me they cluttered the crisp design of what was happening under the tables (not to mention the actual choreography of the solo). In Tarot, the past, present and future are not found in the actual cards, but rather in the power of the moving body.

The final moment of the night is the group, in solidarity, receding upstage, one dancer holding a raised tarot card.  From this image it is apparent that our experience is over, but perhaps not entirely finished.  

Erica Womack is adjunct faculty at SLCC and presents her own choreography in SLC.