end of year insight

A reflection by Caroline Yost who is a senior in the School of Dance at GMU:

I feel there’s a progression the college level dancer endures over the course of their four years of study. When you’re a freshman, your main objective is to please your professor; if Professor X told you “Good, Caroline!” then you did your job for the day. Professor X is the authority figure and he or she already had a career so what they say must be true. In my freshman eyes, any words coming of any professor’s mouth were golden. I held no one’s opinion, not even my own, above any of my professors. When I was a freshman I whole-heartedly believed that if my professors thought I was talented, then I was. If my professors thought I was going to be a professional, then I was. I failed to take any responsibility for my craft or my career.

Naturally, when I received my first technique class “B+,” Intermediate Modern Dance, I was horrified. I couldn’t fathom how if I was doing everything correctly, attending class, and pleasing my teacher he could offer me anything short of an “A.” I found myself recalling all the verbal confirmations I’d heard in the semester, sizing up that number with the awful “B+” staining my transcript.

This class taking strategy lasted through my sophomore year. With a different palate of teachers I found myself hitting dead-ends left and right, trying to please those around me. And still, my mentality failed to change.

end of year lists

Over the weekend I was in New York City and picked up the "Arts & Leisure" section on Saturday night to see the annual list of highlights in performances and exhibitions.

Reading the critics' analysis I thought about a question I had put on a Dance Appreciation test a couple days before to motivate students to think about the conditions and reception of certain artists: "who is the greater dancer - Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly?"

Some students wrote poetically: "Trying to choose between Astaire and Kelly is like trying to choose between day and night: we need both... They were excellent dancers and the best in their own right. Picking favorites is determined by the personality of the person being questioned. It cannot be denied that both dancers broke boundaries, set standards, and deserve their thrones in the kingdom of dance mastery."

Other students described their different approaches to choreography, the camera, and movement: "Gene Kelly used a variety of camera techniques... Fred Astaire was seemingly effortless and had a certain swagger... In my opinion the best dancer would be a fusion of the many great characteristics of both men... I think the greatest dancer is Michael Jackson."

The response that really made me smile was: "The answer to this question reveals the personality of the answerer. Fred Astaire was a representation of graceful aristocracy and Gene Kelly was slightly rougher around the edges. Myself being more of a jock, I prefer Gene Kelly."

So it comes as no surprise that in The New York Times a similar pattern occurred: Alastair Macaulay wrote about Sara Mearns of New York City Ballet, Alina Cojocaru and David Hallberg of American Ballet Theatre, and Matthew Renko of The Suzanne Farrell Ballet as performers who left lasting impressions. For notable choreographers, Macaulay cited Liz Gerring and Pam Tanowitz. For impressive collaborations, he wrote about Sara Rudner and Dana Reitz.

Critic Claudia La Rocco listed Keely Garfield, Wendy Whelan, Ralph Lemon, Alain Buffard, Rob List and Bruno Beltrao as "top-notch" artists. She also mentioned people who were creating in the 1950s and 1960s and whose works were revived, re-created, or shown on film in 2010: Trisha Brown's "Walking on the Wall," Yvonne Rainer's "Trio A Geriatric with Talking," the documentary "Simone Forti: An Evening of Dance Constructions," and Anna Halprin's tribute to her husband which was performed in September in Portland.

Looking at these two lists, it is not so much the differences in people but the massively different perceptions of performance that intrigue me. I am fascinated by how much our preferences expose our subjective understanding of the world, our desire for things to be a certain way, and our particular beliefs about the role of dance and the arts today.

voices

The brouhaha set off by The New York Times review of “The Nutcracker,” the follow-up by the critic, and the eloquence of Jenifer Ringer’s reaction on The Today Show exemplifies the way communication has changed in 2010: an artist can not only respond to what a critic writes, but can use many avenues – the internet, print, and television - to transmit their messages. Does this reveal how criticism is no longer confined to an authoritative voice - the expert or arbiter of style - but can engage in a dialogue that includes multiple perspectives and responses? What does this mean for the future of dance and the role of dance criticism?

I am impressed by the insight Jenifer Ringer, a New York City Ballet principal, brings to the situation and her appearance reminded of other dancers who have articled their ideas through writing and teaching. Christopher d’Amboise, also a former New York City Ballet principal and now part of the faculty at GMU, wrote a book almost 30 years ago that contains beautiful revelations about the nature of artists, friendships, and dancing. Here is a passage:

“I have heard people try to describe the feeling of dancing, and it usually ends up sounding religious or mystic. One finds oneself unintentionally using phrases like ‘another world,’ or ‘the ultimate experience.’ The more sincere the attempt to explain, the more apparent is its ineffability. We do not have the proper words for it. It is as if all the senses were fulfilled, and all the desires realized. All fears and disappointments disappear, or rather they are blanketed by the overwhelming force of the positive…”

December 2010 Concert at GMU

Watching Edwin Aparicio’s last week and the dancers of GMU last night I’m thinking about the visceral nature of dance. It challenges our notion that life can be captured and transmitted through images and recordings, and insists on experiences that are direct, immediate, and fleeting. I don’t think any recording of Aparicio’s dancers and musicians can replicate their energy or the electricity of watching their artistry take flight. I got chills. Last night, as the students who are majoring in dance at GMU presented choreography by their classmates and faculty, my eyes were bathed in different notions of beauty.

absolutely gorgeous

Legs flicker in rapid rhythms that dive and cut between the singer’s voice. The contrast between the plaintive sounds and driving patterns conjures a feeling of mixed emotions, irreconcilable feelings that burn within each of us. Watching Edwin Aparicio’s concert “Alma Flamenca” today at the Gala Theatre, I was transported by the beauty and eloquence of the dancers and musicians. It was one of the best performances I have seen in DC and reminded me of a flamenco performance I saw just after September 11, 2001 when Noche Flamenca performed in Connecticut. I was living close to New York City at the time and the flurry of the dancers’ feet contrasting with the sinuous flow of their arms and backs seemed to capture the conflicting emotions in the audience, the sadness, anger, grief, and rage that was palpable at the time.

If the audience today seemed more subdued, the dancers on stage were not. The performance was transcendent. It opened with a trio of gorgeous women who commanded the stage with their footwork and fans, then shifted to a more somber solo choreographed and performed by Defne Enç. Dressed in black, she embodied a sense of calm strength as she stalked across the stage and poured passion into virtuosic phrases. The duet that followed, “Seguiriyas” by Edwin Aparicio and Genevieve and Guinn, brought out one aspect of flamenco that makes me cherish this dance form: the women and men take part in the dancing that is aggressive as much as they share the phrases that are more subtle and subdued. I was particularly impressed by Guinn’s performance because Aparicio is a stellar artist who makes it hard to watch anyone else on stage. She matched his power in her own exquisite way and their duet turned the stage into a richly woven fabric of music, dancing, and duende.

In a book I am reading about flamenco, Goethe is quoted as saying: “Duende… a mysterious power that everyone feels but that no philosopher has explained.”

It is the spirit that seems to overtake a great flamenco dancer and it was visible today. It is another element I love about this dancing and music: it’s not only mesmerizing to watch – as bodies and faces paint shapes and emotions on the stage – but it also deeply human and intimate. The dancers appear propelled by internal forces and allow for some play between control and risk, structure and freedom.

This may be why I find it so effective as communication. Although the performance was planned and choreographed it also valued creativity and spontaneity. The artists transmitted messages and ideas directly from body to body, dancers to musicians, and performers to audience. It was a moment that defies explanation. It must be felt and lived.

For more information about Edwin Aparicio, check out this terrific interview from DCist.

24 hours

Between 7:30 Monday night and 7:30 Tuesday night there were three eye-opening events that made me question the role of arts criticism today. The first occurred at "Fly: Five First Ladies of Dance," a performance so stunning that there was collective euphoria afterwards as people smiled and greeted one another on their way out of The Kennedy Center. The second moment came in a class of Dance History when Dance majors asked pointed questions about dance writing and offered excellent observations about the role of critics. The last moment was the most disheartening: The Kennedy Center hosted a panel about arts criticism and Douglas McLennan, Editor of ArtsJournal.com talked about how difficult it is for him to find decent dance writing to post on his site, then pondered if something should be done about theaters that restrict cell phone use since all the young people today only want to attend events where they can use their communication devices constantly. One of the panelists turned to him and asked "are you suggesting we twitter at the opera?" The discussion seemed light-years away from the brilliance of the performance I had attended the night before and the curiosity and insights of the GMU Dance majors that afternoon. Given the power and impact critics have in shaping discourse, I was dismayed by the disconnect between artists and editors. Fortunately there were some thought-provoking pieces published about "Fly" in City Paper and The Washington Post. And I include some thoughts I wrote for my own memory of the performance.

Only five dancers were on the stage of The Terrace Theater last night: Bebe Miller, Germaine Acogny, Dianne McIntyre, Jawole Willa Jo Zollar, and Carmen de Lavallade. Yet they brought with them the legacy and accomplishments of 50 years of African-American artists.

How Do We Define and Classify Dance?

The human body is amazing. I love this art form of dance because there is no end to what the human form can express. Tonight, I attended a performance of Companhia de Danca Deborah Colker at the Kennedy Center. The dancers were athletic, precise, musical, sensual, mechanical and superhuman, all in one evening. The concert titled Mix, was a little disjointed due to the nature of the performance, as the program consisted of a “mix” of sections from other evening length thematic concerts.

I appreciated Colker’s choreographic sensitivity to the creation of environments and theatrical landscapes through which the performers explored. I was particularly in awe of the final selection called “Climbing,” during which the dancers fearlessly propelled and repelled themselves up, down, across, upside down, turning and backwards along a huge climbing wall. In the small amount of rock climbing I have personally attempted, I have always worn a harness. These dancers scaled the wall surface, without any safety device, as though they were moving along the floor. In fact, there were times my mind was tricked into believing that I was looking down at the performers from above. They created a new dimension for dancing!

I once again found myself searching for a definition of how to classify dance. Colker’s company is as athletic as it is technical as it is theatrical. Some may say the work is circus, theater, performance art, visual art, sport or dance. I wonder, why do we need a definition?

an interview with Professor Jim Lepore

If I need to change my mood from stress to joy, I just have to pass by Professor Lepore's Afro-Cuban dance class and watch a room full of students soaking up knowledge like sponges take water. Their skin glistens with sweat, their bodies accent the rhythms and their minds explore the intersections of dance, religion and politics. It's a moment that perfectly captures the melding of mind, body and spirit. Here Professor Lepore answers questions about his education, teaching and unbelievably talented family.

1. what draws you to dance? and to teaching?
I graduated from high school in 1971, during the throes of an international counter-culture that challenged status quo values and celebrated the virtues of “finding oneself.” My undergraduate years, spent hop-scotching around the US and Europe when not enrolled at a university, were dedicated to doing just that. Before I ever took a dance class, I spent time majoring in philosophy, art history, and/or ceramics. None of these subjects, however, engaged me enough (or engaged enough of me) to keep a fire burning after my initial fascination faded.

Luckily, I had a younger sister who studied modern dance and she, inadvertently, opened that door for me. When I finally started taking dance classes, I realized that they rekindled the charge I got from kinetic sensations as a child. (I can still vividly recall being engaged for endless hours in some physical activity, and being appalled by how disconnected adults were from that world; if growing up meant sitting around and talking, then I wanted nothing to do with it.) Dancing also required that I engage my senses in the immediacy of the moment. To dance was—pardon the 60’s cliché—to “be here now.”

The senses, I believe, not only inform us about the world that surrounds us, they also dictate how we experience that world.

room to soar

"State of the art" may be so overused that the phrase has become drained of meaning, but the dedication of the de Laski Performing Arts Building last night made these words come alive.

This new structure on GMU’s Fairfax campus is a spacious home for the Schools of Dance and Music. As students, faculty, administrators, donors, and the architects gathered yesterday to dedicate the building, I was mesmerized by the glory of the design. It's a place where imaginations can soar. It is also a testament to both generosity -- a gift from philanthropists Donald and Nancy de Laski made it possible to build this center  -- and dedication. The long-term commitment of faculty like Linda Miller who have been stalwart in their dedication to state of the art training and performances for dancers at GMU has turned aspirations into manifestations. 

While I enjoyed hearing recollections from Donald de Laski, as well as the President of GMU, Dr. Alan M Merten, and the Dean of the College of Visual and Performing Arts, William F. Reeder, it was choreography by Susan Shields and Christopher d’Amboise that enlivened the occasion. Shields’ duet called “Displaced” was performed by Alejandro Alvarez and Kailee Combs, students who have a stunning purity. Dressed all in white, they melted and folded into one another as if made of rice paper. Shields’ choreography is distinguished by its clarity and emotional nuance; d’Amboise offered a more boisterous celebration. Set to an adaptation of Benny Goodman’s “Sing, Sing, Sing” played by GMU's Jazz Chamber Ensemble, his choreography featured 13 dancers grooving to the rhythms. Shields and d’Amboise are artists who imbue their students with discipline and grace. It seems fitting that they can now teach in a building that radiates creativity and innovation.

News from Maya in Brussels

It has been an eventful couple of weeks!
I am back from ImPulsTanz (Vienna, Austria) and have been taking classes at a studio in the center of Brussels and was babysitting in the evenings. Then I took a two-week workshop with Ultima Vez. The first week was taught by a German named Jauregui Allue and the second week was taught by Inaki Azpillaga. It was Monday-Friday from 10am-4pm with a 20 minute break. It was the most intense and physically demanding workshop I have ever taken. We were rolling and jumping and flying.