exploring a range of choreographic ideas

Prentice Whitlow, Ashleigh Gurtler, and Maya Orchin

On May 2 I was in Brooklyn to see “Spring Movement.” One of the choreographers selected for this showing of choreography and performance was Maya Orchin, a student I met at George Mason in 2009 who moved to Europe after graduating from GMU in 2010. She shared some of these adventures abroad here and here.

I was particularly excited to see her recent work because she was a wonderfully inventive choreographer as a student at GMU and I imagined that her exposure to other ways of performing had enriched her singular approach to dance-making. Her trio – performed by Maya with fellow Mason alumni Ashleigh Gurtler and Prentice Whitlow was fantastic. Now, 10 days later, it remains one of those pieces that I keep thinking about each day and enjoying all over again.

It began with a charge of energy, Maya and Prentice tumbling and rolling, and even though there were fluctuations in this energy as the piece evolved, there was never a dropped moment. My focus and interest were steadfast.

Today at the East Building

Today marked the opening of the Ballets Russes exhibit at the East Building and a quick walk-through revealed that it is an impressive look at this company, especially the artists and conversations that surrounded and contributed to its innovative productions.

Today also marked the closing lecture of a series called “Out of Site in Plain View: A History of Exhibiting Architecture since 1750” by Barry Bergdoll, The Philip Johnson Chief Curator of Architecture and Design at The Museum of Modern Art, and a professor at Columbia University. 

Every week I attended, Bergdoll delivered a talk that not only revealed a connection between the development of design and techniques of display but also made me think about connections between architecture and dance. In the first lecture Bergdoll spoke about the impossibilities of “collecting” architecture: how exhibitions transfer designs intended to be viewed in their environments to objects that are framed and hung. The correlations with performance and choreography seemed clear: these forms are often preserved or “collected” by being transferred to film, photographs, and written words. When Bergdoll spoke about architecture being exhibited through its simulations, I considered its resonance with dance.

companies, colleges, and careers

How do dancers navigate the multiple avenues available when they graduate from high school? There are decisions to be made about company auditions, college applications, and exploring a gap year before enrolling at a university. Last night the Washington School of Ballet presented a discussion about dancers’ futures to a packed audience of students and parents. One of the first ideas offered was that it’s important for a dancer to demonstrate the difference between being assertive and being aggressive.

It was this statement of Septime Webre, artistic director of The Washington Ballet, that made me realize this conversation was going to be different. It was not about platitudes and clichés, not about following your dream and hoping for the best. It was real, informative, and eye-opening.

The discussion was organized by Kristina Windom and moderated by school director Kee Juan Han. Guest speakers included Webre and Susan Shields, a choreographer, professor, and longtime partner to Mikhail Baryshnikov when she performed with the White Oak Dance Project. The thread that linked the speakers and audiences was the Washington Ballet, not only the school where Shields trained, but also a company now led by Webre and an organization that is spearheading ways of preparing dancers for careers in the 21^st century. As Shields said candidly, 20 years ago there was a certain stigma about a dancer thinking about going to college, or a ballet-trained student considering a career in modern or contemporary dance.

Times have changed.

visceral or vicarious

people gather to get into Pink Line Project's Cherry Blast in 2010

Hearing one of your own bones break is a sensation that’s not easily forgotten. 

It happened more than a decade ago when I was rehearsing with a dance company and landing from a jump. Called a Jones fracture, the break split the wider end of my 5^th metatarsal from the bone’s shaft. When I tried to get up and walk, the sole of my foot felt viscous instead of solid. Recovery involved a year on crutches, an operation to insert a screw to keep the bone together, walking with a cane, and discovering a newfound appreciation for what it means to move.

 

I got a little riled up...

Ronald K. Brown teaching a master class at Strathmore

When a DC critic suggested that Ron Brown’s work is shallow, I got a little riled up.

I had seen the performance she reviewed, as well as a master class Brown taught the week prior (pictured above). His artistry, generosity, and ability to merge and meld vocabularies and ideas are phenomenal. I left the performance as inspired as I left the master class.

So when I read The Washington Post article I wrote a comment. The paper decided not to post my comment so I share it below. I’m doing this to open a dialogue about what we are seeing and saying. On Tuesday, tomorrow, I will be discussing this performance and review with GWU students who were also there.

I have some guesses about what they will ask and wonder if anyone has some ideas about how to discuss these topics:

1. Why does a critic equate Black artists’ work with “comfort food” and “porridge”? Does she do this with ballet companies and white artists as well?

departures from the staid

Ian Svenonius

Some thoughts on artists and events by Ellen Chenoweth: 

Inspired by Kate’s writing and with a number of performances and experiences rattling around in my brain, I wanted to capture a few of them.

1. I’ve been noticing a welcome willingness to upset traditional formats.  Jack Ferver in a work titled Mon Ma Mes, taking place at the French Institute Alliance Française in New York as part of APAP, opened the show by admitting that he had actually forgotten about this performance, was running late because he had been teching for another show, and was therefore going to open the evening with a Q&A session rather than dancing to allow himself some time to get into the mood.  It was deliciously unclear how much of this text delivery was real, and how much was just messing around with the audience, likewise later stories involving crushes. 

The writer Junot Diaz must be drinking from the same water.  A couple of months ago, I saw Diaz deliver an electric reading / performance / lecture at ARC’s Facing Race conference.  Diaz came onto the stage and announced that he was incredibly nervous, and was therefore going to take questions from the audience as a way of warming up and dealing with the nerves.  This straying from the traditional format sent a crackle of excitement through the assembled audience of 800 or so. 

2.  Ferver’s Q&A session was a stacked deck though. 

the magnificent seven

some reflections  on artists, curators, writers, and producers changing our cultural landscape

 1. Watching parts of “How to Lose a Mountain” Friday night inspired me to think about moments and people who enrich my thinking about art and artists. DC is a tricky place for innovative ideas. Unlike other cities where I have lived and visited recently – New York, San Francisco, Philadelphia -- it doesn’t have hubs for dancers and performers to come together and share ideas. So when I saw this work by Cassie Meador and her incredible cast, and listened to reflections by those who gathered, I was deeply moved.

Meador’s performers --- Matthew Cumbie, Sarah Levitt,  Paloma McGregor, Shula Strassfeld, and Zeke Leonard (who wasn’t present but who has already established a strong role in the production) -- are deeply committed, exhibiting a combination of strength and vulnerability that is captivating. They are individuals who possess a deep sense of dedication to one another. Meador incorporates their movement, thoughts, songs, into a multi-sensory experience: the cast’s words and movement merge and meld with the music and set. The showing took me through a journey of stories and images. Some of these are more tangible than others, but I savored those moments when there was an idea that was suggested rather than stated. At times I was not exactly sure where a person or scene was headed, but the material itself was so rich that there was a sense of excitement and curiosity generated by the interactions.

The staff of Dance Exchange gathered a diverse group of people to see and discuss the work and this discussion was similarly generative. Beautifully moderated by John Borstel, the conversation followed Liz Lerman’s Critical Response Process. There was a huge range of ideas and reflections on the showing, and the conversation kept exploring, going deeper and deeper into ideas about the work.

the mutable influences of life

Visiting Philadelphia to see the exquisite Dancing Around the Bride exhibit brought into focus not only the rich possibilities of artistic interactions, but also the ways that DC suffers from a lack of informed writing about current ideas in dance and performance.

The day after my Philadelphia trip I read Sarah Kaufman’s article about the film Anna Karenina. Ignoring for a moment her didactic tone--the way she situates herself as a critic who advises companies and choreographers on how to behave and create—I was struck by her confusion about current dance-makers. She describes the film’s choreographer, Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, as an “experimental choreographer.” She cites his use of arms and hands in the film’s ball scene as unique and innovative. If she were familiar with his 2005 performance with Akram Khan called zero degrees, she would know that this vocabulary--viewable in the first 30 seconds of this excerpt--is part of an aesthetic approach he has honed for years.  

Does Kaufman use “experimental” to imply he is working on the fringes, using new or different ideas? If this is the case, she exposes how unaware she is of current trends in dance and its interdisciplinary influences.

yoga and performance art

Kelly Bond and Melissa Krodman in "Colony" at the Capital Fringe Festival

Each Saturday when I roll down my yoga mat and begin a practice with a teacher in DC I do not know where I will end up. Of course there are familiar poses/asanas and certain patterns that link my movement and breath, but I also enter into unexplored territory. I savor a sense of discovery when I notice places in my muscles--and my mind--that are resistant and tight. Every week there's different information and some days the practice ends with a feeling of exhaustion, other days exhilaration. Daily shifts in the way I feel and how my body responds make the journey indeterminate, its outcome uncertain.

Recently I've been enjoying practicing next to a friend who shares my interest in performance and the arts, particularly relational aesthetics. Our conversation this morning touched upon ways in which visual artists and theatrical performers are tapping into similar trends: a current interest in immersive theater coincides with a resurgence of events in museums and galleries that make interaction a vital component in the realization of an artist’s creation. 

This blog post brings together some of these ideas…

“Breaking the fourth wall, and involving audience in a piece of theatre, has subsequently been used in ways that have different social poignancy to The Shining, and sometimes in ways that do not push against dominant values. Some shows have now achieved commercial success in New York by capitalizing upon the excitement of participation as a selling point. Yet even while it has become more common to position the audience as something other than passive spectators, choreographers have nevertheless continued to find critical tractions in different ways of engaging an audience. This has included working with the social values that are relevant to local contexts beyond the East Village scene.” 

Reading these sentences by Doran George--shortly after seeing Deborah Jowitt’s review of Dionysus in 69 and attending a symposium on immersive theatre in Washington DC--triggers my interest in "social poignancy."

The more I see approaches to performance that reconfigure artist/audience relations–David Zambrano’s Soul Project, Punchdrunk’s Sleep No More, National Theatre of Scotland’s Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart–the more questions emerge. Does the incorporation of audiences into performances acknowledge the ways in which we interact with our technologies today, meaning frequently engaged, constantly available? Or does it speak to a desire for connection and intimacy in a time when screens are a primary source of communication and interaction?

Talking about talking about work

Another post by a choreographer/performer enrolled in the MFA program in Dance at GWU: part of the course I teach asks students to read different critics and analyze their perspectives.  Here Dawn Stoppiello addresses a seminal piece in dance criticism.

Arlene Croce was the dance critic for The New Yorker from 1973 to 1998. She founded Ballet Review magazine and was a film critic prior to her career as a dance writer. Croce has written several books on dance but this article, “Discussing the Undiscussable,” is an important part of her legacy and recognition. Her audience includes the large readership of The New Yorker and many dance enthusiasts and professionals.

As a “newbie” in New York City in 1994, I remember vividly when “Discussing the Undiscussable” came out. With this piece Croce started an extremely important and controversial conversation on art and criticism, one that had been waiting to be had. Already somewhat identified as an old-school uptowner, with this article Croce exposes herself as a brave journalist even if (and precisely because) her expressed opinions were not in line with everyone’s.

Surely it is agreed that the quality of an artwork is subjective, but what Croce is arguing is that it is impossible to formally critique something that is, first, and foremost a “being of something” rather than a “theater of something.” I mean to say that being a terminally ill person and not acting as one has no formal perspective from which to be critiqued. How does a critic critique a real person’s unscripted and unrehearsed real story?