UtahPresents: Axis Dance Company

Axis Dance Company aims to change the face of dance and disability. The company of disabled and non-disabled dancers recently spent a week at the University of Utah, hosting master classes and discussions on fostering inclusivity within dance pedagogy and performance. On November 8, the company performed at Kingsbury Hall as part of the UtahPresents season.

The first act of the performance consisted of two dances, both of which employed familiar movement vocabularies of contemporary dance. Featuring one dancer in a wheelchair and two bipedal dancers, one of whom was missing an arm, the opening trio had an easeful energy and was full of interplay between softness and strength. Clad in gold-fringed costumes reminiscent of something Tina Turner would wear in her heyday, the three spun and wheeled around each other to “Clapping Music” by Steve Reich and a violin solo by Bach. The dancer in the wheelchair often juxtaposed the fluidity of the rolling chair by making very sharp and angular arm movements in the air. They spun the chair in several rotations as the other two dancers did pirouettes that transitioned to the ground for shoulder rolls and leggy floorwork. The floorwork dancers made a pattern on the ground with their legs that matched the other dancer’s arm movements in space. The juxtaposition of the movement vocabulary with the music and costume selections was a little curious, but the choreographer’s message was clear: all dancers can express the same movement intention, even if it’s through the use of differing body parts and/or with the help of an extra apparatus.

The second dance, a work for all six company members, displayed the dancers’ extreme athleticism. They dove through the air and performed flips on the ground and over wheelchairs. They formed a series of well-balanced tableaux of varying levels – taking advantage of the different levels of space that their bodies occupied – in which they performed strong, quick gestures with their upper bodies. The energy and movement quality shifted unexpectedly towards the end of the piece and we were gifted two intimate duets that had the sensual styling of Jiri Kylian’s Petit Mort or Alejandro Cerrudo’s Second to Last. Both duets were comprised of one partner in a wheelchair and one bipedal partner, each of whom took turns sensuously weaving around each other. Given that our society often de-sexualizes disabled bodies and questions the capabilities within interabled relationships, these duets were extremely insightful and were the highlight of the piece.

During intermission, I wondered about inclusivity in codified techniques (phrasing taken from company member Lani Dickinson’s biography). Do codified movements retain their names as their mechanics are adjusted for disabled bodies? Is there terminology for movements created for and by disabled dancers that non-disabled dancers in non-inclusive companies aren’t aware of? My thoughts were interrupted as the house music got louder and the lights in the house went dim. Not the typical transition from intermission into a second act, but fitting for what came next – a dance-theater piece that explored homelessness through a surrealist lens. 

The piece’s opening image was a collection of cleverly worded cardboard signs, characteristic of those held by homeless individuals in hopes of receiving aid from passersby. The dancers languidly entered and exited the stage in mismatched costume pieces, seeming dejected yet full of whimsy all at once. It eventually became clear that we were witnessing the character of Alice slip in and out of her Wonderland and also the poverty-stricken streets of California. The most striking image was a dancer dressed in camouflage with a sleeping bag around their legs and a cigarette hanging from their lips doing the worm with Alice seated on their back – a clever parallel between a homeless veteran and the hookah-smoking caterpillar from Lewis Carroll’s story. In comparison to the first two dances, this piece relied less on familiar dance vocabulary and there were fewer textbook choreographic structures. It instead leaned heavily into the dancers’ pedestrian or vernacular movements, and used space in a more natural and organic way. With this change in approach, I saw a company of people, momentarily forgetting that “disabled” and “non-disabled” were ever necessary distinctions amongst them. Which brings me to my final thoughts:  

I support fighting for inclusivity in systems that inherently (though not always maliciously) exclude marginalized groups, but I also value working outside of those systems. We can ask to be a part of systems that weren’t created with us in mind, or we can create new systems that better serve us. I think the first two dances did the former, while the final dance did the latter. It was nice to see a range of bodies participate in highly stylized forms that have historically been exclusionary. However, it was exciting to imagine how dance can transform if companies like Axis forge forward with new ideas of what dancing bodies can do and look like, instead of attempting to fit all bodies and abilities into previously formed models. 

Alexandra Barbier is a dance artist and performance-maker. She is a modern dance MFA candidate at the University of Utah and has taught courses on creative process, queer performance art, and dance in culture.

UtahPresents: Complexions Contemporary Ballet

Complexions Contemporary Ballet, presented by UtahPresents at Kingsbury Hall, was a heart-swelling, breath-stopping show. Performing two works that drew from wildly disparate aesthetic and musical realms, the company showed both the best of what they are and an infectious triumph in something unexpected. It was a beautifully refreshing display of the possibilities of ballet and the rare magic of a successful, expansive, and passionate homage by the skilled artists of one discipline to the inspiration given long ago by the hero of another.

Complexions is a primary example of a “contemporary ballet” company, as I was first exposed to in my youth. Others who grew up dancing at a similar time might remember the same reverence for the elastic freedom that co-founders Dwight Rhoden and Desmond Richardson helped popularize, along with others like Alonzo King. Their movement style and intentionally cultivated diversity became something of a torch for students who struggled to fit into the ballet mold (which, I’d argue, is every ballet student). When I took class from the articulately inspirational Richardson at the University of Utah the last time the company was in town, I glowed and vibrated for weeks afterward.

In the playbill, Complexions noted that their “foremost innovation is to remove boundaries, not reinforce them.” Bach 25, the first work on the program, evoked that vision with a clarity and precision that illustrated exactly why the company is renowned. The piece was steadfastly true to what one might expect: statuesque men and women in herculean form; bare whispers of flesh-toned leotards and briefs; flashing crispness and aching intensity; heart-stopping lines and tilts galore; dramatic shadow and light; choreography that teased out and magnified tiny musical subtleties; complex individual dynamics layered to create an explosively undulating, many-armed whole.

The removal of boundaries was a particular theme in Bach 25. In the piece, dancers pointedly played with classical ballet formations, steps, structures, and gestures to illustrate the subversion and expansion of each; not just using their bodies, though shaped by ballet, to inform and enhance contemporary movement divorced from ballet steps. Choreographic tools like diagonals, windowed lines, and canons were apparent, as were all the most recognizable standbys of classical ballet vocabulary – penchés, passés, bourrées, developés, extended balances, traveling lifts. While these forms were sometimes presented in their most familiar context, inserted among more contemporary structures and movements they sometimes also twisted, were reorganized and flipped, and distilled down to their essence.

Partnering was also used first to bring forth a motif and then to upend it. Couples were mostly male/female pairings, with much of the choreography a referent of classical pas de deux, but many steps typically assigned to a particular gender were fluidly passed back and forth.

When any company does “A Tribute to ____,” I am usually not into it. No matter how much of a crowd-pleaser a mashup of beloved hits may be, it is hard to get the tribute itself to stand up in comparison. But I have to admit that Complexions’ Star Dust, a tribute to David Bowie that the company premiered shortly after the artist’s death in 2016, kind of had me. It was huge and electrifying. It was full of both campy, uncontained silliness and a melodramatically heightened yet earnest pathos. My chest filled, tight with glee, and I experienced waves of nostalgia at least a couple times.

The success of Star Dust hinged on a few structural choices. First was the absolutely outlandish technical and lighting direction from the company’s resident designer Michael Korsch (his lighting in Bach 25 was also strikingly superb and functioned as a key element in that work as well). Over-the-top choices included a curtain that lifted on a 3D light show of splintered, front-facing beams and spots arranged as a giant star, for the opening number set to “Lazarus” (from the 2016 album Blackstar); rich, saturated colors; wildly sweeping lights; and a massive backdrop of gold streamers that re-appeared throughout the piece for dancers to burst in and out of. Each such effect transported us into the imagined circus of an arena concert, or even to the place where dance is arguably most at home in popular music – the music video.

This impression was only strengthened by the goofy, delightful choice to have a Bowie character dancing and strutting front and center, lip-syncing to many of the songs while the other dancers swirled around them. Several dancers rotated through this role between and during songs, delightfully hamming it (all the way) up. By leaning into conventions that regularly accompany that kind of music, Complexions was able to create the “visual imprint,” as billed in company marketing materials, needed to capture Bowie’s spirit.

And of course, the dancing itself was technically incredible, drawing a throughline with much of the same type of movement as in the Bach piece. Balletic qualities were adjusted perfectly to be given a new life and peppered with moves reminiscent of the silliest, most gleeful, late-night dance party. Some of best moments were the blinding opener, “Lazarus,” with the unequaled charisma of Brandon Gray as Bowie; Jared Brunson setting off a spiraling chorus of dancers violently swinging their arms, air-guitar style, in “Life on Mars”; and the hugely magnetic performance of Maxfield Haynes in “Space Oddity.”

Also great was the slowed down, sad-eyed presentation of “Heroes,” sung by Peter Gabriel, that featured Jillian Davis in a balletic pas de quatre as well as Brandon Gray. The heavy drama of this section ended with the cheesy melodrama of dancers in a line staring out across the front of the stage, while one dancer walked among them, falling and clutching at them - until he erupted into a twisting, flapping, chicken dance that reverberated back to the others, who in turn catapulted into spasms of delight to the tune of “Modern Love.”

The final movement of Star Dust featured Bowie’s “The Young Americans,”  actual red, white, and blue lights, and the full company, spaced out to fill the stage, writhing and shaking in what can only be described as a riotous dance party. As I watched the joy and fury in their bodies became more intense and more palpable, and just as I began to catch a feeling of hope in a “young America” myself, the curtain came down.

Emily Snow is a Denver native who now calls Salt Lake City home. She has most recently been seen performing with Municipal Ballet Co. and with Durian Durian, an art band that combines electronic music and postmodern dance.

UtahPresents: Bollywood Boulevard

UtahPresents’ Bollywood Boulevard, a journey through Hindi cinema, was performed for a lively audience in a packed Kingsbury Hall. Brooke Horejsi, executive director of UtahPresents, introduced the show, and recalled seeing the company at the Lincoln Center Out of Doors series, loving it, and wanting to bring it to Utah audiences for the purposes of both entertainment and to showcase of a different part of the world.

Bollywood Boulevard combined the talents of Heena Patel (executive producer and artistic director), Rushi Vakil (executive producer, music director, and composer), and Rohit Gijare (choreographer and dancer) to create an homage to Bollywood, chronologically taking us through Hindi cinema’s black and white era, Golden Era, and into present day. Musicians and singers flanked the stage as the combination dancers-actors performed each snippet of the featured film. It was colorful, lively, celebortary, and incredibly nostalgic (based on audience reactions) for those that are familiar with Hindi cinema.

I have limited experience with Bollywood, but my friend I attended with, Srilatha (Latha) Singh, has much more -- she was born and raised in Delhi, India. Her voice will be included throughout, as her opinions and perspective shaped my experience of the evening.

Latha explained Bollywood pulls from various cultural and religious forms (for the dancing, music, and costuming) and then makes these forms not only widely accessible but also secular. She pointed out moments during the performance that hinted toward various groups living in India: Muslims, Hindus, Christians, Sikhs, and tribal groups. In this way, I could see the important role Bollywood has played in bringing diverse groups together and celebrating universal stories of love, hardship, triumph, and family.

Each scene, never lasting more than a couple of minutes, was introduced with a graphic on the cyclorama that gave information about the movie it was drawing from. The pacing was quick, and when the show landed on local guest artist Sonali Loomba performing Kathak (modern dance entry point: Akram Khan’s formative training is in Kathak), I wished that time could be suspended to dwell longer on this classical form. Kathak began in Hindu temples as a means to convey scriptures but, similar to ballet, eventually made its way to the courts and is celebrated in various ways today, one being concert dance. I felt a desire to delve into the pulsating footwork and detailed upper body of the form, but the performance’s structure did not accommodate this.

Bollywood as a movement genre is not really a concert dance form; as Latha says, “it is a participatory art form.” It is at its strongest when you are celebrating alongside the performers, as was clearly demonstrated at the end of the show. The audience was invited to get out of our seats and fill the aisles, dancing alongside the performers. It was joyous to see so many audience members enjoying movement, music, and community. It was the perfect release after spending the evening watching the performers evoke the stories of this beloved form of entertainment.      

There was a moment, about halfway through the show, when I leaned over to Latha and asked, “Do you know most of these movies?” She replied, smiling, “Every single one. They would take the most popular songs and play them on Doordarshan (the official television channel owned by the Indian government) every Wednesday night.”

In that moment, I was struck by the beauty of being able to sit with a friend who recognized and understood every cultural reference, while I recognized none. What a world! I did appreciate the bright colors, the swirling and circling, the shimmying and bouncing, the upbeat and rhythmic dancing, the soulful singing; but Latha could connect each vignette with a specific time and place in her life, or decode the theme of a dance or the words to a song. My enjoyment wasn’t based in nostalgia (though I enjoyed watching and listening as others’ was) but rather on being introduced to a fresh view of aesthetics and entertainment.  

Erica Womack is a Salt Lake City-based choreographer. She coordinates loveDANCEmore’s Mudson series and contributes regularly to the blog.

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.

UtahPresents: Doug Varone & Dancers, with guests

UtahPresents programmed an evening of choreography by Doug Varone, held at the University of Utah’s Marriott Center for Dance. The performance featured members of Varone's company, Doug Varone and Dancers, Varone himself, special guest artists and former Varone company members Daniel Charon and Natalie Desch, members of Ririe-Woodbury Dance Company, and students from the University of Utah School of Dance. The multiple groups shared the performance cohesively. I would have loved to see even more interaction among the different groups, but I understand that they had limited time together to prepare for this show.

The first work presented, “in the shelter of the fold,” consisted of five sections, which were held together thematically, and with similar music (intense ambient sounds with humming vocals) and lighting design (many-rayed light coming from one source, with darkness to contrast around it).

‘1. horizon,’ performed by the company, introduced a stiff movement style that continued through the next couple sections as well. The dancers created shapes and painted pictures together as a group, moving at varied speeds and with nice moments of stillness.

My favorite moment of stillness involved a female dancer holding a male dancer up off of the ground. It was an interesting and aesthetically pleasing lift that demonstrated grace, strength, and coordination. But also, many female dancers are perfectly capable of lifting a male dancer, and yet we don’t see it choreographed that way very often, even in today’s more current landscape of female empowerment. I liked that it wasn’t supposed to be a big statement, just something that could happen naturally within a choreographic work. Looking at it in that light, it’s ironic that I wanted to dedicate a whole paragraph to the topic.

‘2. folded,’ performed by two dancers from the company, was not particularly noteworthy as far as any differences from the first section. It ended with the performers vigorously shaking their heads at the front of the stage, which I enjoyed.

‘3. shelter,’ performed by three dancers from the company, portrayed continual negotiation of relationships, likely among two parents and their child. It was tense and poignant, and included some wonderfully executed, choreographic details of hand articulation.

‘4. mass,’ performed by students from the University of Utah School of Dance, was stylistically different from the previous sections, featuring more choreographed unity among the dancers, more fluid movements, and more use of physical flexibility. This contrasting piece was like a breath of fresh air.

The dancers from ‘4. mass’ slowly crawled off the stage as ‘5. hope’ began. It was wonderful to integrate the two sections that likely could not have been rehearsed together very much due to time constraints. It was simple, but so effective, especially because of how well it fit the style. The crawling theme was also repeated toward the end of ‘5. hope,’ tying it together even more, and without feeling too repetitive.

‘5. hope’ was a solo by Hsiao-Jou Tang, who is, in my humble opinion, the very best choice for a solo feature of anyone who shared the stage that evening. Her seemingly natural grace and movement details made her stand out.

After intermission, we saw “Strict Love,” which featured an off-putting combination of upbeat music and stiff, floppy movements. Eight dancers (a combination of performers from Ririe Woodbury and Doug Varone and Dancers) seemed stuck in their limited expressions (contrasting with the lively soundtrack) as they stayed in the same formation for a displeasing amount of time. This 1994 piece by Varone wasn’t my favorite, but it did provide a good contrast to other pieces within the show.

After a pause, Doug Varone himself performed a self-choreographed piece titled “Nocturne.” The solo included a pleasing mix of larger dance movements, gestures, and wonderfully natural pedestrian moments. I loved Varone’s unique and charming style, especially his expressive hands and shoulders.

Next came a piece performed by Daniel Charon and Natalie Desch, called “Short Story.” I disliked it, although I don’t think that its purpose was to be likable. The piece portrayed a tense relationship and power struggles between two people. I prefer for everyone to support each other, so this was not my cup of tea. However, it was a memorable and well-executed piece.

Finally, “LUX,” a 2006 Varone piece, was performed by the company. “LUX” gave the audience a welcome abundance of big, energetic movement, including some playful barefoot tap moves, solos from my favorite dancer, Tang, and a strong ending. I very much appreciate the way that the evening of Varone’s choreography ended with a bang, so to speak.

Doug Varone and Dancers in rehearsal at the University of Utah, with students from the School of Dance 

Kendall Fischer is the artistic director of Myriad Dance Company. In addition to dancing with Myriad, she also performs with Voodoo Productions, and has enjoyed opportunities with SBDance, Municipal Ballet Co, and La Rouge Entertainment, among others.