Ariel Rivka Dance
Jack Crystal Theater at NYU Tisch Department of Dance
New York, New York
June 2, 2023
Microvids (world premiere), Never Fade Away (film) (world premiere),What You Want (world premiere)
Jerry Hochman
Ariel Rivka Dance (“ARD”) has undergone something of a sea change since the Covid pandemic. It was first noticeable last year, and, after seeing its 15th Anniversary performance at NYU Tisch’s Jack Crystal Theater last week, it’s more apparent now. Whatever the cause, it’s manifested as a more eclectic thrust to Artistic Director Ariel Grossman’s choreography, and a shift in emphasis, at least for the time being, toward more feminist-related themes.
The program was as much a celebration of Grossman and her company’s evolution as it was an exhibit of new choreography. There was one world premiere dance, the formal premiere of a dance that was updated from its premiere performance a year ago, and the world premiere of a film, portions of which included choreography by Grossman. I’ll discuss them in the order presented.
Ariel Rivka Dance in Ariel Grossman’s “Microvids”
Photo by Jonathan Pellow
The dance that opened the evening, Microvids, is both unusual and noteworthy. For one, unlike nearly all of Grossman’s prior choreography that I’ve seen (and I think I’ve seen much of it), there’s no underlying story or theme that I was able to discern, and Grossman’s choreographic movement quality, though never rigidly angular, now flows more seamlessly. Even when lyricism isn’t a component of the piece, as in the program’s second dance, it’s a foundation of her choreography. To me, that’s a positive.
Ariel Rivka Dance in Ariel Grossman’s “Microvids”
Photo by Jonathan Pellow
The score for Microvids was created by Grossman’s frequent musical collaborator, Stefania de Kenessey, and to my ear it’s her finest composition created for ARD to date.
As may be gleaned from the dance’s title, Microvids is a series of “micro” visuals – “short stories” as they’re described in the program – conceived musically and converted to movement. That’s nothing new, nor is the concept of choreographing short vignettes as part of a whole. But here the music and the dance flow so smoothly that although the viewer can distinguish individual episodic sequences, the sense of the whole dominates.
Hana Ginsburg Tirosh in Ariel Grossman’s “Microvids”
Photo by Jonathan Pellow
When the dance begins, the eight dancers are seated upstage along a horizontal row of chairs. As the music is played, one or two or however many are involved in one of the short stories emerges, dances, may or may not be joined by others, and then returns to a chair (as I recall there may have been one or two occasionally standing rather than sitting). When a story is being performed, which often is a statement of sorts, the others intently watch, sometimes registering recognition, agreement, or support.
There are nineteen individual short stories that run anywhere from a second or two to maybe a minute or more. Some are more difficult to distinguish from others – I caught what I think are fifteen of them – and describing them is difficult because they’re a combination of emotions and events, and of individual punctuations and small group gatherings. What unites the stories is a sense of sisterhood that runs the gamut from unity and common cause to brief bursts of power or apparent anger. What unites the piece as a whole, in addition to de Kenessey’s score, are the uniform flowing white costumes, and Grossman’s smooth as silk and sensitively-expressed choreography. And although it’s attitude might be seen as agitation or fury based on the photos provided, to me the piece did not come across that way at all. On the contrary, it was filled with measured serenity. Grossman saved the anger and fury for her second dance piece.
Ariel Rivka Dance in Ariel Grossman’s “Microvids”
Photo by Jonathan Pellow
Although there’s nothing dated-looking about Microvids, it evokes an aura of continuity, past as well as current and future. It brought to mind a group of women celebrating themselves and the camaraderie among them – similar to, but far different in meaning from, the women’s dance that introduced the STARZ TV series “Outlander” – as well as a little Isadora Duncan, but more inwardly focused.
DeKenessey’s piece was played live at the performance I attended, the final of the three-performance run, by Donna Weng Friedman, an award-winning pianist and educator who is new to the company and a part of ARD’s Artistic Team (as is Carmen Maria Martinez, who designed the costumes for the program’s two dances). I’m not sure what that means beyond the obvious – that the team collaborates on creative decisions and their performance execution, but a perusal of the team shows how much the company has expanded its parameters to include input from different, or overlapping, local constituent communities.
Ariel Rivka Dance in Ariel Grossman’s “Microvids”
Photo by Jonathan Pellow
Weng Friedman is a company asset independent of her musical ability. She created the film, Never Fade Away, the program’s second piece. Normally I wouldn’t spend much space discussing a film, whether a component of a program or a “supplement” for some special occasion, but this one is different. It’s not a dance film per se, though it includes dance episodes and choreography by Grossman. It’s an immigration story – success in the face of overwhelming odds.
That sort of thing’s been done many times before in many different artistic contexts, but this one is different both because the story is different (not surprising, since individual immigration journeys are individual almost by definition), it avoids the temptation to milk the compelling story, and it has a beautiful heart that it wears proudly on its sleeve.
In short, the film is something of an homage from Weng Friedman to her father, Sin-Tzu Weng, who emigrated from China in the 1940s with little more than the shirt on his back, saved his pennies, bought a radio with his savings, and listened to Chopin – which changed his life. But “homage” is too stiff a word –Never Fade Away is more of a composite memory translated to film and presented with exceptional strength, restraint, and technical skill. Not a moment is out of place or stretched too long. And, as should be obvious by now, music and dance are its heart and soul. Grossman’s choreography, a waltz she choreographed for New York City Ballet Principal Dancer Chun Wei Chan and Xiaoxioa Cao, a ballerina and Broadway performer with considerable professional experience who played his wife, as well as a solo choreographed and performed by Chun himself, are indispensable components of this brilliant, albeit all too brief, film.
Weng Friedman directed and produced Never Fade Away and played the Chopin music that’s integral to it. The cinematography was by Garrett Parker; the editor was Siyi Chen, and Weng Friedman as a child was played by Mijo Chang. All, including Grossman and the film as a whole, deserve whatever award recognition for which it might be eligible.
There are far too few films (at least to my knowledge) that relate individual journeys of Asian immigrants. I read Amy Tan’s novel “The Joy Luck Club,” which was made into a film, but that’s the only one that comes immediately to mind. This one is different; it’s a true story. If Never Fade Way is shown in the future, see it. And bring a tissue. Make that a box.
The evening closed with the formal premiere of What You Want, a collaboration between Grossman, in association with her dancers, and Summer Dregs (music producer Carl Cadwell), with input from de Kenessey. The emotional transition from Never Fade Away to What You Want is jarring because they push different emotional buttons, but on this program there wasn’t a reasonable alternative to presenting them in the order used here.
I’m sure there were some changes made to What You Want between last year and this year, including one example I’ll reference below. I suspect the music was altered too. Although I’m not a huge fan of electronic music, this score is one of the finest I’ve heard – and, not surprisingly, it fit Grossman’s choreography like a glove. The end result is that the dance looks tighter now; a little more focused. And although some of the feminist themes touched on in Microvids are echoed in What You Want, it’s as different from Microvids as night is to day.
Ariel Rivka Dance in Ariel Grossman’s “What You Want”
Photo by Jonathan Pellow
While the women in Microvids are united and the women in What You Want are united as well, in What You Want they’re united in vitriole and resolution. The dance obviously is a product of a great deal of hurt, but it’s far broader than any individual set of grievances. Whether one agrees with the implicit general indictment or not, What You Want is an edgy, in your face manifesto of grievances, a vow of resistance, and a declaration of independence.
What You Want hits from the outset, as, early in the piece, a line of women marches forward and collectively grab their (clothed) breasts, as if notifying the world that a woman’s breasts are no longer (if they ever were) a sign of vulnerability or sex; they’re armor. [I don’t recall this image at all from last year’s incarnation. In my review last year, my observation was that the dance wasn’t clear about what, if anything, it was protesting, or whether it was really a protest against protesting. Now there’s no doubt.] From there, it segues into various individual or group “stories” (like Microvids), but here they’re far more detailed and combative, and the ensemble isn’t just seated and intently watching as others tell their stories, they’re standing (here in a diagonal line rather than seated along a horizontal group of chairs), and this line (repeatedly, as I recall) marches part way across and down the stage, shaking their index fingers into the air as if at once scolding, asserting, and demanding.
Caitlyn Casson and Ariel Rivka Dance
in Ariel Grossman’s “What You Want”
Photo by Jonathan Pellow
All that being said, watching What You Want can be painful. I don’t appreciate being yelled at, literally or figuratively, or dictated to, and the piece does too much of that. I’m convinced, as I’ve written before, that an argument can be won more completely and more permanently if made at a low decibel level and by evoking empathy and universal values. But for Grossman, obviously things have gone beyond niceties. Her description of the dance, in the program, supports that. She writes: “’What You Want’ is a story of personal revolution and self-discovery. Through a female lens, the new work … answers questions around identity, agency, limitations, and the importance of finding truth among the noise of the world around us. It is a universal story told through an intimate expression of personal struggle, victory, and acceptance.”
Notwithstanding its stridency, What You Want is put together so well that, as a work of dance art, I can’t dispute its quality. It’s for more than just a rant.
Ariel Rivka Dance in Ariel Grossman’s “What You Want”
Photo by Jonathan Pellow
The dancers here were the same eight who performed in Microvids: Amy Ashley, Asia Bonilla, Caitlyn Casson, Abriona Cherry, Kristin Licata, Casie O’Kane, Maria Gracia Perez, and Hana Ginsburg Tirosh. All did excellent work in both dances. And I should note that the dancers here represent an eclectic range of body types. One can argue about whether that would be appropriate for a professional classical ballet program, but here that kind of diversity adds an additional level of veracity to the argument being made.
It’ll be interesting to see how Grossman and her company evolve from here. And as uncomfortable as it may be prove to be, I’ll look forward to it.
