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loveDANCEmore has reviewed performances taking place across northern Utah since 2010.

Contributing writers include local dancers, choreographers, arts administrators, teachers, students, and others. Please send all press releases and inquiries about becoming a contributing writer to the editor, sam@lovedancemore.org.

The opinions expressed on loveDANCEmore do not reflect those of its editors or other affiliates. If you are interested in responding to a review, please feel free to send a letter to the editor.

Ballet West artist Joshua Shutkind rehearsing Natalie Weir's Jabula. Photo by Beau Pearson.

Ballet West artist Joshua Shutkind rehearsing Natalie Weir's Jabula. Photo by Beau Pearson.

Ballet West: National Choreographic Festival, Program A

Ashley Anderson May 18, 2018

When Ballet West’s Artistic Director Adam Sklute welcomed the audience to the second annual National Choreographic Festival last night, there was tangible excitement in the auditorium: not only was every work on the program created by a female choreographer, but the artistic directors of the visiting companies, Richmond Ballet and The Washington Ballet, were women - Stoner Winslett and Julie Kent. Even though ballet schools may be full of female students, and a lot of female teachers, there’s a scarcity of choreographers and company directors who identify as female.

In fact, a couple years ago, a graduate student analyzing the 2015-2016 performance season of the ten highest-budgeted American ballet companies ($9 million to $60 million, U.S. dollars), found that approximately ten percent of the works were made by women: 111 male choreographers compared to only 13 female choreographers. Prior to Kent’s appointment as director of The Washington Ballet in 2016, and of the “top billing” American ballet companies, only one had a woman in charge: Lourdes Lopez of Miami City Ballet. Out of 59 American companies with budgets between $1 million and $60 million, only 26% are directed by women. This list includes Winslett, the longest tenured company director in the United States, plus artistic directors Virginia Johnson of Dance Theatre of Harlem and Victoria Morgan of Cincinnati Ballet.

Victoria Morgan will be in Salt Lake City next week when Cincinnati Ballet, and Charlotte Ballet (with newly appointed director Hope Muir), share a program with Ballet West. These performances also feature works by female choreographers: Jennifer Archibald, Robyn Mineko Williams, and África Guzmán.

I’m aware that’s a lot of names in just three paragraphs, and this is intentional: I believe one of the reasons for the gender disparity in leadership roles in ballet is that women’s work often goes unnoticed or unacknowledged (parallels could be drawn with women’s domestic labor). When we start to look at the achievements of women who occupy leadership roles, thinking especially of Stoner Winslett, Victoria Morgan, and Virginia Johnson, we see people who have merged longevity, financial stability, and artistic excellence. Their visions, determination, and dedication are extraordinary.

Last night, on stage at the Rose Wagner, there was a similar sense of excellence. As different as each of these companies and choreographers are, the dancers invested in the distinct movement vocabularies and brought to life vivid images of aquatic life, relationships’ tumults, and athletic mating rituals.

Richmond Ballet opened the program with Katarzyna Skarpetowska’s Akwarium (Polish for “Aquarium”). This is the Skarpetowska’s third commission for Richmond’s dancers (following Polaris in 2015 and Scarred Bouquets in 2017). Akwarium’s cast of 12 inhabited her movement with a sense of ease and curiosity. Their rippling torsos and fluid partnering evoked an underwater world, as some dancers had the mercurial qualities of minnows and others took on more sinewy actions. There was no narrative but rather a beautiful sense of immersion in another realm.

The piece began with an empty stage and fluorescent rods gradually illuminated the space, reminiscent of lighting that could be found above a home aquarium. Dancers’ unitards, designed by Fritz Masten, were shades of blue, green, and cobalt; each featured its own delicate details.

Something that distinguishes Skarpetowska’s choreography is her ability to use the stage like a multi-sided box instead of a square with only one front that faces the audience. As a result, one section presented two pairs of dancers, but much of their choreography showed their backs to the audience, giving us a distinct and intriguing view of their pas de deux. In another section, women traveled across the stage with energetic bourrees, but with their backs to the audience, revealing Masten’s beautiful accents in their costumes.  

Entrances often took the form of a man lifting and turning a woman, as if they were being swept onto the stage. Other clever choreographic details included a couple performing downstage as other dancers emerged and exited in fast runs across the upstage area. This kinetic “backdrop” enriched the downstage duet.

A pulsing score by Robert Henke added to the intensity and momentum of Akwarium’s first section. For the last part of the piece, the music shifted to J.S. Bach’s “Allemande.” Throughout the performance, the choreography, lighting, costumes, and music created a multi-layered quality, as vibrant and effervescent as aquatic life. One of the women, Elena Bello, was stunning, imbuing the choreography with fluidity, playfulness, and confidence. Bello also shone in a trio with two of the men, and all of the six men, Marty Davis, Trevor Davis, Matthew Frain, Anthony Oates, Fernando Sabino, and Mate Szentes, were impressive, displaying clean lines and exuberant leaps.

The Washington Ballet brought Myriad, a new work by Gemma Bond, who’s a member of American Ballet Theatre’s corps de ballet. Prior to moving to New York, Bond was a First Artist with the Royal Ballet, and there were vestiges of Kenneth MacMillan’s approach in her Myriad. Set to music by Henry Purcell, the piece presented a cast of six women and one man. Its tone was dramatic with a tinge of angst, as the women often circled their heads with their arms as if wilting or feeling entangled. The costume design by Bond had the women wearing long skirts that they, at times, lifted gently with their hands. The man, Brooklyn Mack in last night’s performance, wore a white sleeveless vest and white tights that stopped just below the knee.

Mack was brilliant in a role that’s a tour de force: partnering each of the six women and delivering his signature great jumps with captivating personality. In contrast, the women seemed more tentative or less confident. Bond’s choreography is complicated and fast. In this program, Myriad had the most recognizably classical vocabulary, although there were moments when Bond experimented with unusual partnering, as when one of the women stood on Mack’s thighs as he grounded himself in a second position plié. In another unusual choice, the women rolled on the floor like logs.

Although there were times when the women seemed to comfort or whisper to one another, each time he was on stage, Mack was the most prominent performer. I was not sure if the six women represented six different relationships with him, or if they were facets of the same relationship, as some duets were capricious, and others more somber. Overall, I was left with a puzzled impression: was Bond reinforcing a stereotype of a man who vacillates between different partners without ever committing to one?

The program closed with Natalie Weir’s jubilant Jabula (Zulu for “Joy”) for Ballet West. Choreographed as a solo in 1993 for Queensland Ballet, Jabula has been “modified” for companies and schools around the world. It’s an exuberant closer, bringing a sense of spectacle to the program’s poetry and drama, and in last night’s version, it was performed by 16 dancers.

Eight men opened the piece with a series of staccato poses that evoked strength and domination. The score by Hans Zimmer, from the motion picture The Power of One, and the costume design by Weir added to the display of power: the men were topless and wore sienna-colored karate pants. As they dispersed, Chelsea Keefer emerged from the backdrop to perform a solo that contrasted with their steps. Her agility and fluidity, as she turned with exquisite grace and extended her legs towards the sky, were a brilliant counterstatement to the men’s unison. Keefer presented a fierce and flickering style that made me think of how her power took the shape of more precise and ninja-like movements, different from the men’s brute poses, but equally compelling.

As the piece continued, there was an athletic trio for three men where one man appeared to be launched through the air, and the entire cast was on stage for the final section, coupled in male/female partnerships. Weir’s choreography mixed handstands and yoga-like poses with acrobatic partnering maneuvers. While the cast displayed these shapes with grace and power, there didn't seem to be much purpose to these feats beyond a display of the dancers’ prowess. In some ways this made Weir’s work a perfect ending, and most of the audience stood to applaud their performance. 

Weir’s work, the only one with women in slippers instead of pointe shoes, also added to the versatility of ways in which women make ballets. If Skarpetowska’s choreography was more detailed and nuanced, with the cast presenting different facets of their technique and exploring distinct qualities of movement, Bond and Weir chose different approaches: their male and female dancers occupied more distinct roles based on gender, but the results were dramatically different.

As a whole, by showcasing a variety of women making work today, the National Choreographic Festival demonstrates why it’s imperative to present this kind of showcase. Last night’s performance made it crystal clear that there’s a spectrum of contributions women are making to the future of ballet. Personally, I was drawn to Skarpetowska’s qualities of movement and the dancers’ abilities to inhabit her style, and this may be because she has established a relationship with Richmond Ballet. A take-away from this observation could be that women not only need to be commissioned more often to create work, but also need to be given repeated opportunities to work with these great artists.

Artists of Ballet West rehearsing Natalie Weir's Jabula. Photo by Beau Pearson.

Artists of Ballet West rehearsing Natalie Weir's Jabula. Photo by Beau Pearson.

Kate Mattingly is an assistant professor of dance at the University of Utah. She has a doctoral degree in performance studies from UC Berkeley, and has had writing published in The New York Times, The Village Voice, Dance Research Journal, Dance magazine, and Pointe magazine, among others.

Read Kate's review of the second weekend of the National Choreographic Festival here.

In Reviews Tags Ballet West, National Choreographic Festival, Richmond Ballet, The Washington Ballet, Natalie Weir, Gemma Bond, Katarzyna Sharpetowska, Adam Sklute, Stoner Winslett, Julie Kent, Lourdes Lopez, Virginia Johnson, Victoria Morgan, Hope Muir, Jennifer Archibald, Robyn Mineko Williams, Africa Guzman, África Guzmán, Fritz Masten, Robert Henke, J.S. Bach, Elena Bello, Marty Davis, Trevor Davis, Matthew Frain, Anthony Oates, Fernando Sabino, Mate Szentes, Henry Purcell, Brooklyn Mack, Hans Zimmer, Chelsea Keefer
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Artists of Ballet West in Nicolo Fonte’s Fox on the Doorstep.

Artists of Ballet West in Nicolo Fonte’s Fox on the Doorstep.

Ballet West: National Choreographic Festival, Part II

Ashley Anderson May 31, 2017

Billed as the “Sundance Festival for dance,” Ballet West’s National Choreographic Festival spanned two weekends and received significant regional support for its presentation of works by five ballet companies and seven choreographers.

 Below, Liz Ivkovich considers works from the first weekend while Ashley Anderson responds to the second. The two conclude together in conversation about this new platform.  

--

Trey McIntyre’s The Accidental featured three couples (male and female), in pas de deux to the crooning voice of Patrick Watson. The piece was four distinct segments to four different songs. The almost-mariachi beat drove the dancers, in leafy leotards and flat slippers, through a series of intricate lifts. The partnering was well-executed, yet I felt the Pennsylvania Ballet dancers seemed to miss each other in their focus on the audience.

As the lights rose on Sarasota Ballet performing In a State of Weightlessness, I thought I saw five floating Buddhas. This image resolved into women in light tan leotards suspended in the air above darkly-clad male partners. Throughout the work, composer Philip Glass drove the men as they lifted their female partners like Bunraku puppet masters. I challenged myself to actually see the men, which was difficult because the work seemed designed to draw focus solely to the women. I was struck by the beauty and nuance in Ricardo Graziano’s choreography, where a simple head movement could define the pas de deux.

I wish I could see Nicolo Fonte’s Fox on the Doorstep two more times before I had to write about it. It was perfectly ordinary and extraordinary, folding me into their world.

Fox began with a heavy stage left; a mass of dancers that resolved into duets and solos, to dissolve again into the group. Beckanne Sisk and Rex Tilton discovered the unseen edges of the music with sharp flicks and easy extensions as they danced together, alone, and with others.

A single light shone from upstage down at the audience. At times it became the moon, at others an interrogation. And when it struck the dancers so that we saw them - strength of movement, sweat lines on costumes - they could see us. Performers and observers, we were there together.

A woman contorted in the center of dancers arranged like a flock of geese, while they watched. At moments, they tried to join her, only to stop and watch again, with cold eyes.

The piece seemed to end when the group melted off stage. It began anew with falling snow, and a lone figure (Chase O’Connell) who was joined for a brief moment by a woman in a gray leotard and soft slippers.

I feel odd singling out these few artists whose faces I recognize. If each dancer had performed their own part alone, it would still be captivating, a mash up of the ease of release technique, the intense exploration of Gaga, and iconic ballet lines.  

Yet, it was the company’s commitment to really being together on stage that lingers in my memory. I had the feeling that one gets when seeing someone hold their baby - that they are actually touching another person, not performing what it looks like to touch someone.

This connection between the dancers was so lovely in its ordinary-ness that the performance became extraordinary.

---

Terra is not the first work by Helen Pickett that Ballet West has presented, but it is one of the most lovely. Working from Joseph Campbell’s The Power of Myth, Oregon Ballet Theatre performs both creation and opposition with dancers who appear at once Paleolithic and extraterrestrial. The choreographic structure measures up to several of Campbell’s functions of myth: to marvel at the universe, to show the scientific boundaries of these beliefs, to demonstrate sociological support for this ideas, and to live life within the aforementioned.

This last function, wildly living, falls short at times, perhaps because of the homogenous nature of the group (ballet-trained dancers of the same demographic) and perhaps because of a lack of practice in performing a visceral soundscape (grunts, shouts, etc.). Although vulnerable relationships are presented in a number of mythical contexts and formations from virtuosic masculine circles and romantic pairings to lone and longing women, the dance deals more with the structures and the outward marveling than it does the living.

Before/After by Annabelle Lopez Ochoa makes this concert happily equitable in terms of gender (a hot topic in ballet) and the brief duet presents a refreshing counterpoint to other festival offerings. A sparse text is repeated -- changes, the sound changes, changes, before, after, the light changes --  and each directive comes to pass over the 7 minute work. Light and sound cues progressively change before the “after” of departures from the stage by Angelica Generosa and James Moore.  Watching the duet I’m reminded about the powerful form of duets, especially in a regional dance fabric that so values an ensemble: the audience can focus deeply, marvel at intricacies, and also have the pressure of a “masterpiece,” lifted from their shoulders.  

The return of Oliver Oguma’s Tremor was exciting and curious. I reviewed the premiere at the Eccles in Park City and had such a remarkably different experience the second time around. I can’t pinpoint changes to the work beyond my own proximity (closer in Park City, from a distance in Salt Lake) that made the androgyny and ambiguity read and the performance by the dancers more keen and structurally refined. Perhaps this viewing was also seeking a hopeful precedent of truly new voices, outside the choreographic canon, to be included in future festivals.

The evening cycled back to explorations of ritual in Dances for Lou, by Val Caniparoli, a previous resident choreographer with Ballet West. The title refers to the accompanying composition by Lou Harrison, known for his use of Asian musical influences. With impeccable framing by visible stage lighting, brief vignettes revealed ideas similar to Terra although more formally framed. The vignettes carried largely the same implications -- wonder, boundaries, and questions about using specific cultural histories on specific, but non-representative casts.

--

The National Choreographic Festival is certainly a relevant, ambitious pursuit resulting in exceptionally skilled performances presented in Salt Lake’s newest venue. The festival also  meets at least one Sundance measure in its vision of a gathering place for new works in ballet. Though ballet receives more public support compared to other dance forms it is also met with unique challenges, namely the expectations of ballet’s oldest patrons (read: Swan Lake).

Yet these accolades, the “broad, diverse, and ever-changing landscape of new choreography that exists today” promised in Artistic Director Adam Sklute’s program notes, are fraught, given that the public funding received by Ballet West is hardly comparable to either the early independent days of film festival metaphor or the payment that any regional choreographer outside of ballet is eligible to receive. Regional, independent choreographers are only eligible for $2,000 a year in public funding, or $4,500 if they are fiscally sponsored. Ballet West received $1.6 million in government grants in the 2014 fiscal year, and the festival garnered an additional $100,000 in support from the Utah State Legislature.

There are both valid and invalid reasons for these discrepancies but it does leave these two writers wondering what the cost of performance will be in an ever-tightened picture of funding. Is a reading of ballet as synonymous with choreography fair? Should models like the National Choreographic Festival promise a festival of new ballet rather than a festival of dance, a promise which Ballet West can unequivocally deliver? Or, could the National Choreographic Festival grow to become, like Sundance, a festival that “actively advances the work of independent storytellers” from a wider range of aesthetics, expertise, and identity?  

In Reviews Tags National Choreographic Festival, ballet west, Liz Ivkovich, Ashley Anderson, Trey McIntyre, Patrick Watson, Pennsylvania Ballet, Sarasota Ballet, Philip Glass, Ricardo Graziano, Nicolo Fonte, Beckanne Sisk, Rex Tilton, Chase O'Connell, Helen Pickett, Oregon Ballet Theatre, Joseph Campbell, Annabelle Lopez Ochoa, Angelica Generosa, James Moore, Oliver Oguma, Val Caniparoli, Lou Harrison
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Ballet West First Soloist Jacqueline Straughan and Principal Chase O’Connell in Nicolo Fonte’s Fox on the Doorstep.

Ballet West First Soloist Jacqueline Straughan and Principal Chase O’Connell in Nicolo Fonte’s Fox on the Doorstep.

Ballet West: National Choreographic Festival, Part I

Ashley Anderson May 25, 2017

 

This abbreviated review from Liz Ivkovich is for Ballet West’s National Choreographic Festival, May 19 & 20, 26 & 27. The full review will be posted next week after the second weekend of performances. 

I wish I could see Nicolo Fonte’s Fox on the Doorstep two more times before I had to write about it. This is the moment I live for as a dance writer, when I know I cannot write this dance adequately. How can I translate Ballet West’s human connection and crisp technique to you? It was perfectly ordinary and extraordinary, folding me into their world.

Fox begins with a heavy stage left; a mass of dancers that resolved into duets and solos, to dissolve again into the group. Beckanne Sisk and Rex Tilton discovered the unseen edges of the music with sharp flicks and easy extensions as they dance together, alone, and with others.

 A single light shone from upstage down at the audience. At times it became the moon, at others an interrogation. And when it struck the dancers so that we saw them - strength of movement, sweat lines on leotards - they could see us. Performers and observers, we were there together. 

A woman contorted in the center of dancers arranged like a flock of geese, while they watched. At moments, they tried to join her, only to stop and watch again, with cold eyes.

The piece seems to end when the group melts off stage. It begins anew with falling snow, and a lone figure (Chase O’Connell) who is joined for a brief moment by a woman in a gray leotard and soft slippers. 

I feel odd singling out these few artists whose faces I recognize. If each dancer had performed their own part alone, it would still be captivating, a mash up of the ease of release technique, the intense exploration of Gaga, and iconic ballet lines.  

Yet, it was the company’s commitment to really being together on stage that lingers in my memory. I had the feeling that one gets when seeing someone hold their baby - that they are actually touching another person, not performing what it looks like to touch someone.

This connection between the dancers was so lovely in its ordinary-ness that the performance became extraordinary.

Liz Ivkovich moonlights as loveDANCEmore’s New Media Coordinator and daylights at the UU Sustainability Office and Global Change & Sustainability Center.

In Reviews Tags Ballet West, National Choreographic Festival, Nicolo Fonte, Liz Ivkovich, Beckanne Sisk, Rex Tilton, Chase O'Connell
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Ballet West artists in Oliver Oguma's 2016 Innovations work "Fragments of Simplicity". Photo by Dave Brewer, courtesy of Ballet West. 

Ballet West artists in Oliver Oguma's 2016 Innovations work "Fragments of Simplicity". Photo by Dave Brewer, courtesy of Ballet West. 

Ballet West: Works from Within at Eccles in PC

Ashley Anderson March 28, 2017

Formerly known as Innovations, Ballet West has moved the newly titled Works from Within to the Eccles Center in Park City. Works from Within shares choreography from company ranks and 2017’s presented world premieres by Oliver Oguma, Trevor Naumann, Kazlyn Nielsen, and Adrian Fry. While the Eccles Center primarily presents touring groups who may stop in Park City during larger tours of the West (think Jessica Lang), it’s this Salt Lake based company who had the best turnout of any dance that I’ve seen in the space.

One choreographer, Kazlyn Nielsen, was new to the Works from Within platform and her work, “Rendering Stillness,” was perhaps the most conventional offering of the evening. But, inarguably, Nielsen achieved her goal of offering a breath in a fast-paced world with her presentation of delicate partnering to Satie. Also traditional in concept and execution was Adrian Fry’s second work for the platform, “Kinesis.” Much like his 2015 work, “Pulse,” the work relies on the propulsion of music to move large groups through the space in a neo-classical tradition. “Kinesis,” featured more than just the company dancers in performance, as principal dancer Emily Adams costumed the work.

Two former Works from Within participants offered more specific aesthetic perspectives. Last year, Trevor Naumann premiered a dance about the philosophical views of Homer and I wrote in a review that the work was reminiscent of certain moments in Martha Clarke’s “Garden of Earthly Delights” because of styling but also its content. With another score by Boaz Roberts (deliberately driving and equally grating) the dancers in Naumann’s new work, “Grief and Integration,” explore something similar and reminiscent of different portions of the same dance by Clarke. This comparison is not just because of the return of nude unitards but because of the physical explorations of confusion and pain which are outside the norm of Ballet West’s typical fare.

Some of Naumann’s metaphors in “Grief and Integration” are clear (death comes for you in a black hood and mask) but others are less so (some dancers have human adornment like suspenders and jackets while the rest are clearly dressed for dance). In this mixed bag there is nevertheless an ongoing exploration of the way contemporary ballet might interact with the contemporary moment and its address of pain and pleasure. Further, it suggests that Naumann’s ongoing investigations may take place both in and outside of ballet’s own idioms. While this dance won’t remain my favorite piece, it will always be in the trajectory of where Naumann ultimately takes these ideas which seems to be the purpose of Works from Within.

Oliver Oguma similarly fulfills this purpose as he connects threads from last year’s “Fragments of Simplicity” to the premiere of “Tremor.” In both works, the movement for men is stunning and subtle. Also in both, it appears that women are added because that’s what usually happens in this situation. Clad in androgynous tanks and leotards, I can see the case that the dance includes traditional partnering as a way to break down the common gender stereotypes held within dancing bodies and theatrical structures. But having been at more than one modern dance rodeo I can attest that an androgynous dancing body usually ends up being a male dancing body (see: Nikolais repertory with women binding their breasts and men existing ‘androgynously’ in their same dance belts and unitards).

My desire for Oguma to explore a ballet for the male movers he is so adept at carving space for ironically competes with my ongoing desire for the inclusion of more female choreographers both in Works from Within and in the Ballet West season. Last year after consulting a professor specializing in political statistics, I came up with the figure that in a randomized selection of Ballet West company members there is less than an 8% probability that only one woman would be selected for this platform given the company makeup. That this systemic bias continues to be inadvertently reflected in the programming but corrected in the choreography is an interesting counterpart to the concert itself.

In an ongoing commitment to presenting contemporary ballets, Ballet West will soon be at another Eccles venue: Eccles Theater, in downtown Salt Lake, with the new National Choreographic Festival. Tickets and information about the program can be found here.

Ashley Anderson is the director of loveDANCEmore community events as part of her non-profit, ashley anderson dances. See more of her work on ashleyandersondances.com

Tags Ballet West, Works from Within, Eccles Center, Oliver Oguma, Trevor Naumann, Kazlyn Nielsen, Adrian Fry, Jessica Lang, Satie, Emily Adams, Homer, Martha Clarke, Boaz Roberts, Eccles Theater, National Choreographic Festival