SPHERE: Phase One brought together three distinct choreographers in a shared evening in the Leona Wagner Black Box Theatre, presented by The Penguin Lady. Unique in their voices and visions, Natosha Washington, LAJAMARTIN (Laja Field and Martin Durov), and Joseph “jo” Blake shared themes of identity, resistance, and empowerment.
In an excerpt of “Pinot Noir,” Laja Field and Martin Durov (LAJAMARTIN) invited us into a day in their lives, in both mundane moments rooted in reality and the fantastical musings of a dream-state. Truly dance-theater in style, “Pinot Noir” transitioned between twisted floorwork and elastic partnering to grounded pedestrian action without hesitation - one moment suspended in an elegant balance, the next casually propped in an everyday stance. Both ways of being (the trained mover and the human) existed in equality, and neither had hierarchy onstage. Fleeting scenes, from lip-syncing lines of “Cat On a Hot Tin Roof,” to a hip-swaying, skirt-whipping quick step, to catching a flopping Field on a fishing pole, painted a holistic story of a couple. They were not clichéd, but relatable in their whimsy. None of us is a cohesive sentence; we are all a mess of dreams and fantasies.
The twelve dancers of Weber State University’s Moving Company paid tribute to the female voice in their excerpt of “Take Us As We Are,” a continually evolving work, much like its subject matter. Choreographer Joseph “jo” Blake reiterated in a program note that the choreography remains responsive to the discussions it catalyzes.
Clad in long, flowing fabrics in watercolor shades, the dancers surrounded a long table, fixed in shifting tableaus. Soon, they began to work together to break down the structure of the table into thirds, laying it flat, clearing the center of the stage. The work was not without tension - at times they moved in synergy, at times with resistance. Voices of iconic women echoed through the theater: Michelle Obama, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Yursa Amjad, Emma Watson.
Soon they enveloped a single dancer with her back against a wall (in this case, one table’s top). They evoked memories, both personal and historical, of female fortitude against diversity. Solo moments, with the community never far away, each reminded us that even when an individual seems to stand alone, an army is behind them. As the table barriers cleared, they danced with exuberance and freedom. Finally, the group climbed over a last wall toward the audience, their faces open and resolute.
We had the opportunity to see Blake’s choreography course through his own body in “only he might know?” - a solo that grappled with identity expression. His back exposed to the audience, Blake rippled his shoulder blades, the beginnings of phrases percolating through his spine. As these motions sometimes stopped at his neck, sometimes escaped through his fingertips, it felt as if something was gradually working its way to surface. With staccato movement, he brought himself to his feet, then shifted back to the bench where he began. The action was both sinewy and sharp, fluid and broken.
The music stopped to reveal Blake’s breathing, another exposure. His space was one of quiet vulnerability even in its voyeurism.
In The Penguin Lady’s “Pluck,” a band of women gripped apples. Shuddering, vibrating, they seemed inseparable from the force that the object had over them. Their faces suggested something beyond fascination. Something more menacing. Corinne Penka, dressed in apple-red silk, whipped and darted in all directions, diligently following the apple in her hand.
Apples immediately connote original sin, the story of Eve tempted in the garden. There was certainly something tempting in this reference, particularly when paired with this all-female collective. But as the dancers furiously explored a changing relationship to their apples, spanning from obsession to repulsion, other associations arose. At one moment, Penka gathered armfuls of abandoned apples. Trying to protect them, the group restrained her with long red cords, her limbs stretched in opposite directions.
In both scenarios, she was controlled by an outside source. It was only when both apples and restraints were shed that the dancers gained liberty, moving in nurturing pairs. We are so often bound by our personal narratives, yet lost when we shed the things we believe encompass our identities. The dancers went back to the apples, this time with reverence. They took a bite.
The common threads running through SPHERE: Phase One are perhaps the natural workings of a viewer’s mind forging connections. But in a dance community this tight-knit, this inherently supportive, it cannot be all coincidence. As artists, our work influences, inspires, and catalyzes our circle. On to phase two.
SPHERE: Phase One continues through tonight, Saturday, December 7, at the Rose Wagner Performing Arts Center.
Emeri Fetzer is a dancer and communications specialist. She works at the University of Utah and performs with Phantom Limb Company, and is looking forward to developing new choreography in the coming year.
