Choreography and Danced by Megan Nicely/Dance and Kate Elswit
I am feeling too much on the inside to be on the outside.
I enjoyed watching the audience watch. I barely read the program. A dance for thinkers and thinking through dance. I like dance that thinks.
We only stayed for 30 minutes because Alice got hungry.
Glorious.
Stunning.
Beautiful.
The light, sound, colors, and movement were – yes, I am going to say it – perfect. For this perfection has to do with the totality of my experience, of seeing Alice transfixed (if only for 5 minutes at a time) by the movement, the warmth of the sun (so rare in July!), and my own delight. The best – when a dancer handed Alice a piece of tissue paper (on it was written, “who do you honor in your life?”). Alice’s eyes were so wide and bright as she whispered: “thank you.” The moment stayed with me all night – I was wrapped in happy.
“It must be hot in those masks” (yes, I did say that during the Q & A).
It took some convincing, but I ended up really liking “Beastiarium (or a conversation on Empire and Multitude),” a “new work in progress.” The movement from animal headed bodies (unicorn and rat) to naked humans was thoughtful and layered. The excess and multitude on display in the dance was palpable, I felt it. The dancers moved like animals, and like humans – they resided very much in between forms, identities, genders, and attitudes. It was odd, but an odd that was trying to say something about the present human condition that is both funny and disturbing.
What if I don’t get it?
I haven’t seen it yet, but I read a little bit about the background on this piece. I must admit to some hesitation. Does it matter if I know the history or Mann’s story?
After seeing the piece, here are my reflections:
Moving history – Moving self
A beautiful exercise in present-ness
Archive/Study/Repeating Differently
Energy – energetic
Great words
I didn’t get the whole of the piece, but I came away with something. Sometimes dance makers/collaborators make dance for themselves or small “select audiences” (take a look at Hennessy’s interview). I get that as a process, and yet I don’t get it. I wonder how many in the audience had seen or worked with Mann before?
I didn’t know much about this show going in except for the email from ConterPulse warning me of strong odors during the show, including fingernail polish. I was kind of disappointed that fingernail polish was the only strong odor. Gutierrez gave his program notes live in which he mentioned that the piece had 3 titles (note: this is similar what Keith Hennessy did for “Bear/Skin“; a trend I like). I have to disagree Gutierrez. I think there is only one title, but it is juicy one especially if you feel like geeking out on his use of a colon and backslash. He also mentioned some dance theory, which I appreciated because I am a geek about that too. But I think he was right, you didn’t need to know the theory in order to get something out of the performance.
The piece began with two men – one in a women’s pink bathing suit, stocky build – the other a skinny white boy dressed in baggy white workout clothes. They danced the same movement for about 15 minutes to Silvio Ecomo & Chuckie. It was oddly superb. There was nothing to focus on except the juxtaposition between these two different bodies. It could’ve been longer; I wanted it to be longer. In fact, this section of the dance is the only part that really stuck with me (yes, even more than when Miguel’s face was in Mickey’s balls). It might be due to the fact that I found the later part of the piece a little too self-indulgent. So I choose to stay connected to what resonated. I appreciated the commitment to that level of technical repetition and how it directed my attention toward the sameness and difference of these two (moving) bodies. How could it be that a skinny white boy moved “the same” as a chunky latino? What does this say about bodies and how we see them? Why don’t we see sameness in difference? I enjoyed being led to these questions and would be keen for more.
Abraham doesn’t let us off that easy and I’m glad.
I was captivated. The technical precision and freshness of form was divine. And then there was the music, Bach and Vivaldi – I didn’t see that coming and it was treat. I felt a sense of deep satisfaction in the bringing together of classical rhythm and Abraham’s hip hop aesthetic. The dance told a history and asked questions about our present moment. This is a present struggling to make sense of what has happened to our streets and the “law and order” that keeps repeating.
“mimesis is how we dance”
The embodiment of word play.
Artful partnering.
A game of telephone.
But what really got me was hearing the word mimesis – this was a dance about mimesis and the play that is often a result of that kind of copying/repetition. It was a thoughtful delight/a reflection on the beauty of dance to keep us repeating differently.
Rich went with me; he fell asleep.
“It’s ok to sit in front”
I didn’t know that Hennessy’s previous show included urinating on the stage. So, we sat in front. On cushions. I sat next to Guillermo Gómez-Peña; it seemed the place to be.
The best part of this dance was the speech at the beginning. The rest was oddly interesting as a study on The Rite of Spring and the act/action of sacrifice. It was at times strikingly personal and at other times strangely unrefined. Space blankets! I didn’t “get” the piece in its totality, but I don’t think that was the point. I was happy to be left with questions:
Why do we keep returning to the The Rite of Spring ? Sacrifice? The unknown (and hence a filling in or creating in). Why do we want to fill in the gaps? What does it matter to recover a lost dance? What does this kind of repetition say about dance, culture, history?
dance matters 