Amy Seiwert’s Imagery – SKETCH 6 – Use Your Words
Cowell Theater at Fort Mason, San Francisco
SAFEhouse Arts presents – SPF9 (Summer Performance Festival)
ODC Theater, San Francisco
Festival Napa Valley 2016 Dance Gala – Dede Wilsey Dance Series
San Francisco Ballet
Lincoln Theater, Yountville
ODC Theater presents RAWdance – Double Exposure
ODC Theater, San Francisco
Garrett + Moulton Productions – Speak, Angels
Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco
July 8th – A quartet of dancers costumed in cheerful white cascaded onto the stage. Spinning, running, leaping, pressing their palms to sculpt the space, reaching out in arabesque, suspending in the air – vitality and elation in every moment.
Here was a jubilant start to the sixth edition of Amy Seiwert Imagery’s SKETCH series, running this weekend at Fort Mason. For each SKETCH program, Seiwert welcomes dancemakers and company artists into a choreographic incubator to craft new work informed by a specific theme, question or challenge. This year, Nicole Haskins, Seiwert and Val Caniparoli experimented with the conversation between movement and text, bringing three distinct perspectives in With Alacrity, Instructions and 4 In The Morning (An Entertainment), respectfully. Also joining these world premieres was a reprise of Adam Hougland’s Cigarettes from 2011.
Danced by Beth Ann Maslinoff, Kelsey McFalls, Annali Rose and Andre Silva, Haskins’ With Alacrity was a statement of pure joy. Joy in the choreography; joy in the experience of performing; joy of sharing the material with an audience; joy of being in that moment and with that community. In terms of the relationship between dance and language, With Alacrity took a conceptual and multi-layered approach. The lyrics of Swamp Song with Ania (by Wael Elhalaby and Anna Roznowska) likely brought inspiration. Perhaps also the title of the work – alacrity meaning brisk, cheerful, enthusiastic and playful. I wonder if Haskins employed these word prompts when creating movement phrases or as an improvisation rehearsal device for the dancers.
Hougland’s Cigarettes, the only returning piece on the SKETCH 6 program, evokes a nostalgic mood from the very start. In an entr’acte of sorts, three men slowly set the scene with a table, chairs and a retro refrigerator, which opened to reveal the stunning Sarah C. Griffin and an array of high-heeled shoes. In the brief dance theater work, the four engaged in a dramatic, theatrical and emotionally charged pas de quatre about relating. Various formations abounded, including phenomenal featured duets (by Scott Marlowe and Ben Needham-Wood; Griffin and James Gilmer). Cigarettes is mysterious, atmospheric and transitional – almost like a cigarette itself. An entity that starts out as one thing, and as consumed, its structure changes and it becomes something different.
With Instructions, Seiwert looked to Neil Gaiman’s poem (of the same name), and synthesized a spoken word/choreographic piece for a narrator (Marlowe) and an ensemble of dancers, accompanied by cellist Michelle Kwon. In a pseudo-concerto form, Instructions oscillated back and forth between recitation excerpts and choreographic interludes. Each dance sequence retained the mood and intention of the spoken text but did not attempt to be a direct representation. While the choreography and performances were fantastic, it was the structure of the work that compelled the most, at least for me. Instructions was a skillful and innovative foray into storytelling; in fact, the dance felt like a sophisticated and cultured storytime. Poetry was read aloud to the group, and instead of looking at corresponding illustrations in a storybook, the audience was seeing those images live and animated on the stage through Seiwert’s choreographic voice. Physical shapes of geometrical poetry were marked by a mystical ambience and cemented by Marlowe’s commanding presence.
Closing SKETCH 6 – Use Your Words was Caniparoli’s 4 In The Morning (An Entertainment), a humorous full cast suite, scored by William Walton’s Façade and Edith Sitwell’s poetry. A digital clock was projected on the upstage left curtain, beginning at midnight and ending at four in the morning, as per the title. Throughout the dance, the timestamp progressed within that four-hour period and a number of different vignettes accompanied each new point in time – solos, trios, pas de deuxs. At 1:49, Caniparoli choreographed a hilarious Celtic solo (danced by Marlowe); a compilation of traditional reel and sword dance with some disco club motifs mixed in. From 3:02-3:22, Rose and Rachel Furst cycled through a flirty, whimsical, waltzy variation, joined on and off by Silva and Marlowe. A number of narrative interpretations were possible, though I saw 4 In The Morning (An Entertainment) as a dream cycle. Dreams transform quickly from one idea to another, sometimes keeping a sense of consistency and sometimes morphing to a completely different plane and scene. Dreams are abstract, yet narratively based; sensical, yet also outlandish and strange. 4 In The Morning (An Entertainment) conveyed all of that. And looking to Caniparoli’s chosen text (Sitwell’s poems), there is a similar and connective throughline. When reading about her work, you will find differing analytic perspectives – are her poems abstract streams of consciousness or framed in some kind of deconstructed or image-based narrative? Or is it a bit of both, sitting somewhere in between? Seems that 4 In The Morning (An Entertainment) perfectly captures this paradox, and it does so with wit and fun.
On Wednesday, July 6th, SAFEhouse Arts’ annual Summer Performance Festival (SPF) returned to the ODC campus for its ninth year – five days of cutting edge work from a diverse collection of emerging choreographic voices. What follows is commentary and thoughts on two shared programs from this vibrant festival: opening night’s performance of Alyce Finwall Dance Theater/Alma Esperanza Cunningham Movement and Saturday afternoon’s Peter & Co./ka·nei·see/collective.
As Finwall’s Haven opened, dancers Isabel Rosenstock and Katie Meyers faced the audience, heads down, hair swept forward. Keeping their faces obscured, they crawled downstage with their legs extended. Over the next twenty minutes, the duo cycled through an emotive and provocative pas de deux. Finwall’s choreography compelled with its combination of contemporary release technique and contact partnering peppered with flashes of classical ballet (turned out passé, attitude devant and even a supported grand rond de jambe). Haven also explored an array of compositional forms with partnering, solo work, canon and strongly danced unison sequences. But by far, the most striking aspect of the work was how Finwall envisioned the dancers’ hair as a theatrical device – throughout most of the dance, Rosenstock and Meyers’ faces would continue to be partially or completely hidden. While the wildness of the hair provided an interesting structural contrast to the specific and defined choreography, the purposeful action also posited a number of narrative questions. Perhaps by shielding their faces, Finwall was suggesting a move away from the performative space and inwards to the private and personal. Maybe covering their faces was indicative of an obsessive compulsion that couldn’t be shaken. Or was this a larger statement of egalitarianism? With camouflaged faces, it was easy to imagine that Haven’s two dancers could have been anybody, even those seated in the audience.
The masking of faces by hair was an ongoing theme in SPF9’s first performance, also factoring heavily in Cunningham’s SHE WENT/4 solos (danced by Ronja Ver, Keryn Breiterman-Loader, Karla Quintero and Arletta Anderson). As the work began, the house lights were up. A soloist (again with her hair swept forward) stood on an audience seat, singing. After her song was over, she began moving her torso side to side like a robot, a motion which quickly grew to frenetic shaking. She then ventured down the stairs towards the stage and when she reached her destination, she stood in a calm fifth position, and prepared her arms from bras bas to second.
With its four segments, each set to a different musical selection, SHE WENT/4 solos is a narrative exploration, to be sure. Though it was actually Cunningham’s choreography that spoke volumes for me. As in the first solo, each individual chapter mixed recognizable dance vocabulary with unpredictable physical activity and pedestrian tasks. Deconstructing norms and assumptions of what movement can or should ‘fit’ together, Cunningham seamlessly crafted each phrase into a choreographic stream of consciousness. Solo number two featured a repetitive footwork pattern of turned in lunges and traditional pas de bourées with moments of quiet and repose in open fourth position. The third movement was filled with quick isolations and sharp contractions, interspersed with deep pliés in second position. SHE WENT/4 solos’ closing chapter revisited the pas de bourée motif, this time accompanied by parallel developpés, mimed jumping rope and sitting amongst the audience. And the great thing about these kaleidoscopic movement sequences is that in each instance, surprise abounded – every moment a delicious departure from the expected.
July 10th – Onto Saturday afternoon’s 3:30pm performance and the shared program from Peter & Co. and ka·nei·see/collective. For Interstice, Founder/Artistic Director Peter Cheng faced backward, lit from the side of the stage shin-buster style. He began circling through all kinds of curves and arcs in the spine, in the arms and in the torso. Pathways were explored to the front, side, back and sagitally; speeds varied from intensely slow to lightning fast; movements from tiny to vast and broad. While Cheng was certainly creating and sculpting shapes in space, Interstice was about the process of getting there, a study in articulation. An aptly named work (interstice of course meaning the ‘in between’), Cheng’s solo revealed the points along a greater journey.
Peter & Co. also offered Transverse Course, a trio danced by Kalani Hicks, Sophia Larriva and Alyssa Mitchel. Having seen a previous iteration of this dance last summer, many of my original observations held true, especially its structural and compositional diversity. But the wonderful thing about dance is that a piece is never the same twice (and with the exception of one dancer, this was a different cast). There is always an opportunity to uncover something new at every viewing. What stood out this time was a specificity and definitive nature within the individual movements. This is not to imply that the choreography wasn’t clear before, not at all. But an increased clarity in intention and communication definitely spoke from the ODC stage. From the smallest motion – slowly rolling through the foot to place it on the floor – to the big developpé extensions in second position, the attention to where the movement was coming from, where it was going and what path it was on was palpable.
Artistic Director Tanya Chianese of ka·nei·see/collective has a knack for creating ensemble works that have both strong technical choreography and deep narrative themes. And she has a keen ability to translate these goals to a large-scale format for a large cast – Masses is proof of this. Twelve dancers entered the space for a powerful, high energy, full-out opening sequence. Almost like reactive molecular dynamics, the cast adhered together, appropriating each other’s movements. Next, a few would break off and separate to explore another reality and then the cycle would repeat again. It was elemental, basal, even a little primal. Performers danced in close proximity (yet amazingly, no collisions); the dozen bodies onstage purposefully creating an atmosphere of congestion. Right from this first chapter, the message was percolating – Masses considered the individual existence in the context of the swarm, particularly issues of identity, decision-making, empathy and being aware.
Reacting in the moment played out in a side-to-side exchange. Dancers traveled across the stage, while others emerged from the wings directly blocking their path. Brief partnered lifts moved these “obstacles” out of the way; sometimes with care and attention, sometimes with indifference and annoyance. Near the end of Masses, a compellingly tender duet surfaced, accompanied live onstage by violinist Lucia Petito. As this beautiful conversation played out, the remaining ensemble sat in a line and stared straight forward into the audience. Were they missing what was happening right in front of them? Were they choosing to look away? Were they checking to see if we were watching? Or were they noticing that with the audience, they were even part of a much larger crowd?
July 22nd – In individual pools of light at opposite corners of the stage, San Francisco Ballet’s Frances Chung and Aaron Robison faced each other. With sweeping arms, they began a riveting physical conversation that the corps de ballet would soon join. Artistic Director and Principal Choreographer Helgi Tomasson’s The Fifth Season was underway, as was Festival Napa Valley’s annual Dance Gala.
The Dance Gala is always a highlight of the festival, but this year was particularly special with San Francisco Ballet performing the entire program for the first time. And what a program the company designed for this event! A perfect sampler of classical and contemporary favorites, danced by magnificent world-class artists.
An ensemble work for three couples and a corps of eight, Tomasson’s The Fifth Season is a suite of spectacular moments, one that both celebrates and transcends ballet’s various genres and styles. This full-length work, originally choreographed in 2006, strikes a perfect balance between traditional, neo-classical and contemporary choreography. Off-center balances meet textbook developpés (Robison’s écarté extension especially impressed); silky suspensions combine with staccato demi-pointe boureés. In addition, moods and atmospheres vary from the mischievous tango (led by Mathilde Froustey) to the emotive, sculptural pas de deux by Yuan Yuan Tan and Tiit Helimets. A luminescent start to a phenomenal evening.
Next, the company delved into the narrative story ballets of the late 1800s, with Vanessa Zahorian and Vitor Luiz in the pas de deux from Le Corsaire (choreography after Marius Petipa). Stately and regal, this excerpt was the perfect contrast to the first piece. A signature grand pas de deux with individual variations and coda, it features bravado jumps on the diagonal, lightning fast turns and sharp relevé phrases. And in true classical ballet style, each dancer takes the spotlight with a fouetté sequence near the end.
A collection of duets and one trio made up the second half of Festival Napa Valley’s 2016 Dance Gala, beginning with the pas de deux from Christopher Wheeldon’s After The Rain©, performed by Tan and Luke Ingham. Originally choreographed in 2005, the movement is innovative and contemporary. But for me, this piece is the utmost statement of elegance and grace – non-traditional poses and lifts creating beautiful snapshots in space. Sofiane Sylve and Carlo Di Lanno took the Lincoln Theater stage in the pas de deux from William Forsythe’s famed 1987 ballet in the middle, somewhat elevated. A cutting-edge physical essay of possibility, extremes flourish throughout – in the hands and in the joints, in plié and in hyperextension. Maria Kochetkova and Angelo Greco closed the program in the Act III pas de deux from Don Quixote. Another Petipa story ballet from the late 1800s, this duet is full of spectacle and technique, verve and flirtation. Sky high lifts thrilled, as did Kochetkova’s final fouetté series.
But by far the highlight of the evening was Solo (1997), choreographed by Hans van Manen. Solo is everything contemporary choreography has the potential to be – a stream of varied and intoxicating physicality; a dynamic and playful demeanor; a continual pulse of fun and joy. Danced at this performance by Principal Joseph Walsh, Wei Wang and Francisco Mungamba (both of whom were recently promoted to the Soloist rank), Solo feels like a friendly competition, one with healthy and equal doses of camaraderie, banter, showmanship and fraternity. I’ve seen a number of different casts dance this extraordinary composition and have loved the piece every single time, but there was something about this casting. Walsh, Wang and Mungamba were exceptional in their individual dancing and in their interactions with each other – I hope this trio reappears in future.
July 28th – Every once in a while, you encounter a contemporary dance company that is extraordinarily special. One that stands out. A group that combines choreographic excellence, innovative structures, groundbreaking concepts and impeccable performances. RAWdance is one of these rare treasures. Co-Artistic Directors Ryan T. Smith and Wendy Rein are pioneering artists who continually astound with their talent, wit, intelligence and authenticity.
RAWdance’s newest project, Double Exposure, adds yet another creative triumph to their already impressive oeuvre, one that turns to curation, process and form. A collection of thirteen duets, made by sixteen West Coast-based choreographers and danced by Smith and Rein, Double Exposure is an archive of today’s contemporary dance community. It is a testament to the breadth and diversity of choreographic practice. And it is stunning collage of physicality, combined into a single evening-length work.
Double Exposure’s duets were performed in series, one right after the other, with the name of the choreographer illuminated on the back wall. In between each two-four minute variation, a brief pause allowed the dancers to change costumes or sometimes re-arrange the stage space (a stunning display of organizational logistics in its own right). These interludes never felt like a stop in the action, rather, an extension of the dance itself. Many of the breaks included video of or live talking by Smith and Rein. A breaking of the fourth wall to share charming facts about each other, their thoughts about this particular piece of work and in one case, a karaoke mash-up.
Double Exposure opened with Smith and Rein’s own duet. On two chairs, facing each other, they explored different points of contact: forearm grasping forearm, palms cradling the head and feet pushing against the torso. Joe Goode’s mix of text, mirroring, movement scoring and vocals added a dose of realism and humor to the stage. And it also introduced the first instances of that direct and personal conversation between the performer and the viewer (which, as previously mentioned, would recur throughout the work). KT Nelson’s offering was a pas de deux in the true sense of the term. A ‘dance of two’, Smith and Rein never once touched during this highly technical sequence, and yet the continuity and connection of their pairing was overwhelming. Next came a sexy, smoldering statement from Amy O’Neal – a craving pulse rippling through torsos, spines and even the wrists.
Dramatic and clever use of costuming and props informed Monique Jenkinson/Fauxnique’s contribution – a duet that revealed the space between constraint and possibility, using a broad range of movement (from classical ballet all the way to pedestrianism). Holly Johnston brought a narratively-charged piece to the table. Though I’m not completely sure of the exact message at play, the extremely athletic choreography had a sense of urgency and alarm, appropriately underscored by storm-like sounds. Slow, small, contorted movements took focus in Shinichi and Dana Iova-Koga’s duet – fingers reacting to the air, toes articulating one by one. While this style of movement isn’t my personal favorite, the contrast between it and the previous excerpt certainly made for an interesting visual. Tahni Holt’s work was all about struggle with Smith and Rein engaged in a wrestling match, fighting for control and power. Kate Wallich took on form and structure with circuits, repetitive patterns, directional changes and unpredictable lifts. And the turning/spinning segment center stage was a highlight of the entire evening, reminiscent of a record player.
David Roussève crafted a unison movement phrase for Smith and Rein, one that would morph and evolve over its duration. With decision-making and text prompts, the phrase was repeated multiple times with higher intensity and at faster speed. What started as lyrical quickly became a swirling tornado of energy and emotion. Clarity and intention ran steadily through casebolt and smith’s choreography. This was apparent not only in the specificity of each motion’s beginning and ending point, but also in the journey from one place to another. Ann Carlson provided the most character-driven chapter of Double Exposure. Smith and Rein seemed to be portraying different stages of life – as infants, children, adolescents and adults. A late eighties prom vibe emerged for the final duet, by Amy Seiwert. With such a recognizable scene also come assumptions of what movement might unfold. Seiwert challenged that notion by creating a very contemporary duet in this nostalgic place. There was an egalitarianism surrounding the container, and a delightful unexpectedness in the experience.
Any discussion of RAWdance’s Double Exposure cannot conclude without mentioning Smith and Rein’s radiant performance. The pair moved through thirteen varied duets with such grace, confidence, rigor and strength – all in, all the time. Phenomenal dancers; gifted communicators; accomplished artists. Double Exposure is a definitive tour de force.
July 30th – The orchestral ensemble and five vocalists took their places upstage. Out of the darkness, an eighteen-member movement choir and six company dancers burst into the space with optimistic energy – lifting each other high in the air, leaping in jubilant assemblés, arms fluttering with joyful promise.
A buoyant opening to Garrett + Moulton Productions’ Speak, Angels, the latest full-length work created by the incomparable team of Janice Garrett and Charles Moulton. Speak, Angels is both stirring and uplifting; a beautiful piece with a multi-layered narrative. It is a project that fills the stage with abundant and varied artistic voices. A dance that shares inspired choreography performed by accomplished practitioners. And while Speak, Angels certainly bears similarities to the company’s previous work (thematic fibers, structural composition and choreographic style), this new world premiere is definitely doing its own thing.
Hope and community flourished throughout the piece (like that shown in the first sequence), yet the face of real challenge was also present – struggle/sorrow and assurance/care co-existing on the stage, as they so often do in life. In Vivian Aragon and Nol Simonse’s first pas de deux, it felt like their bodies were actually crying, while the movement choir tenderly embraced each other in the background. This led into a contemporary court dance for Alison Adnet, Carolina Czechowska, Michael Galloway and Ryan Wang (who were eventually joined by Aragon and Simonse) where fellowship and collective strength sang into the space. In another scene, Czechowska reached through the air, searching for Galloway – he was right in front of her but she couldn’t find him. Aragon and Simonse spent one phrase being lofted by the movement choir. While the accompanying music was somewhat somber, they were being encircled with love. And though the piece slowed a little from time to time, Garrett and Moulton even managed to inject a little humor and whimsy along the way.
The six solo dancers (some veterans of the company, some more recent arrivals) showed great spirit and vitality throughout the hour-plus work. And it was particularly exciting to see real-time dialogue between these dance artists – new relationships developing, existing partnerships deepening.
One notable difference in Speak, Angels is that the role of the movement choir seemed more expansive than in past iterations. Yes, they still communicated a captivating gestural score and embodied a living physical framework, but in addition, there were increased choreographic opportunities for the complete ensemble, for smaller groups and for individuals. And I loved how mid-way through the dance, the movement choir slowly traveled from one side of the stage to the other. It was so subtle (you really didn’t notice it was happening) yet so effective – a true homage to the mystery of changing circumstances.