Uptown Dance Company threw its hat into the Houston ring of contemporary dance ensembles not much more than a year ago, becoming an all-professional troupe after focusing for several years on providing pre-professionals at Uptown Dance Centre (the company’s affiliated school) an outlet to hone their performance skills. Their latest project, Dance Infusion, staged October 18th at Zilkha Hall, displayed a capable cast of dancers performing entertaining and tasteful choreography. Though the repertoire was eclectic in mood and theme, the mix of contemporary styles lacked innovation and occasionally charisma. However, with support from another of Houston’s mixed-rep ensembles, Revolve Dance Company, as well as guest artists on loan from Houston Ballet, Uptown Dance Company presented a classy show.

The core ensemble consists of five primary members, Adrian Ciobanu, Phoebe Waggoner, Lindsay Cortner, Martha Perdomo, and Ray Dones, along with three apprentices rounding out the group. Many not only have a history of training with Artistic Director Beth Gulledge-Brown, but also do double duty as teachers at Uptown Dance Centre. On the whole, these accomplished professionals consistently dance well together and display technical finesse. Dones has an electric energy on stage, his high level of attack often draws the eye. Waggoner is another standout, exuding a mature confidence in her approach to each work.

Chano, by Chet Walker (most famous for his work on the award-winning musical FOSSE) was a lively end to Act I and a choreographic high point of the evening. The work, set to Lalo Schrifrin’s spirited Afro-Cuban jazz composition of the same name, is a fun and provocative frolic. The dancers executed the broad and energetic movement with clarity. They looked hot, they moved with conviction, but missing was the go-for-broke personality and flirtatious spark (dancer to dancer, and dancer to audience) that would have made this piece a show-stopper.

A similar problem occurred in the production’s finale, Gulledge-Brown’s Dancing Days, which was set to selected tunes from the Led Zeppelin catalog. Ciobanu and Waggoner kicked off the work with a dramatic duet that was suitably rock and roll. Lighting designer Jeremy Choate makes the color green sexy, silhouetting the pair against an emerald backdrop. Later, the entire cast engages in some playful shirt exchanges which are delightful surprises but are not enough to fill the expansive accompaniment. Though a robust passage of unison choreography comes close to hitting the runway, the piece never manages liftoff.

Paola Georgudis’ more tranquil contemporary dance piece Orbita successfully integrated young student, Emily Healey, who showed great poise throughout her appearance. Orbita seemed innately suited to this small band of dancers. An introspective expression of relationships and the expanding circle of family, the choreography is imbued with cultural dance traditions and shows clear development. It was also the one piece I would have liked to see Ray Dones approach with more subtlety and nuance. His own work, The Beauty of Being Numb, was a better vehicle for his supercharged fluidity. A clanging industrial score (in this case, by electronic musician, Richard Devine) as a metaphor for detachment is not a new idea. However, as an opening number, it highlighted the polished dexterity of the five-member company.

As always, the talented dancers of Revolve Dance Company performed with passion. A series of solos and duets, their work Everyone has a Story features some gorgeous phrasing within the context of a collection of moody love songs. However, there is little else tying each section together. Watching these dancers, it is easy to sit back and just enjoy the aesthetics. When the work ends, however, questions linger. “Who are these people?” “What brought this mismatched group together?” “Why were they huddled around a trash can fire?”

Gulledge-Brown’s In The Moment, performed by Houston Ballet corps members, Lauren Ciobanu and Alex Pandiscio was a beguiling addition to the production. Gulledge-Brown’s sensitive and melodic composition was  befitting this well-matched duo. Free of narrative, the contemporary ballet piece had a mesmerizing affect, as did Ciobanu’s stunning line which was fortunately unconcealed by Laura Phillips Hampton’s graceful costume design.

Overall, Gulledge-Brown has chosen quality and sophisticated material for her company to perform. Good dancing is the core and strength of this fusion (or infusion) of artists. It will be interesting to see how Uptown Dance Company take things to the next level as they strive to distinguish and promulgate their voice and vision within the Houston dance community.

Reprinted from Dance Source Houston

Throughout the year, venues and dance companies all over the world have been staging tributes to The Ballets Russes and its impresario, Serge Diaghilev. Honoring the centenary of the influential ballet company’s formation with re-imaginings of four of its most noted works, Dominic Walsh Dance Theater recently presented its own salute, 1909-2009: The Great Collaborators of The Ballets Russes.

The bill included three world premiere performances. Each stamped by Walsh’s innovative approach to movement and partnering, The Firebird, The Afternoon of a Faun, and The Dying Swan are delivered to the audience with their original titles and musical accompaniment in tact. However, aside from the program’s one previously mounted work, Le Spectre de la Rose, Walsh submitted compositions increasingly divergent in context and atmosphere from their inspirations.

Bakst's Firebird

The focal point of the evening was the company’s adaptation of The Firebird. Gone are the traditionally lavish costumes, sets, and exotic tale of good versus evil. Alternatively, this version’s characters, The Woman and Her Husband,  are at war with each other within a stark and uninviting prison of despair and disenchantment. Stravinsky’s brooding and vigorous score is fitting support for the cerebral crisis that unfolds between the two lovers.

Though not a crime drama (unless murderous reverie counts), the one-act ballet is reminiscent of the film noir style. Frederique de Montblanc’s scenic design has a dark and dingy realism. Everything seems slightly off-kilter, from the crimson chandelier recalling Leon Bakst’s original Firebird costume designs, to sadistic shadow plays, to the moody contour cast by gooseneck lamps. Robert Eubanks’ expressionistic lighting evokes the frequently black and white world of this dark genre of cinema.

Walsh’s program notes describe a “contemporary and adult relationship,” one that has “lasted for a while” and for which the added stresses of kids, work, money, a secret, and a “general sense of disillusion” may have led to a lost sense of self. Frankly, having been married for over 12 years, I thought I might sense that familiar wrench of isolation that can occasionally develop between two united souls, or breathe relief when the couple resolve to move forward together. Despite strong collaboration and solid rendering, the work didn’t have the emotional impact I expected. Walsh’s choreography, however, is distortedly beautiful, sardonically sexual, and consistently bold. The one-act ballet features exquisite performances by company member, Domenico Luciano and guest artist, Marie-Agnès Gillot, the statuesque Étoile of the Paris Opera Ballet. Whether sparring, insidiously attacking, or destructively sulking the pair are captivating.

DWDT’s interpretation of Le Spectre de la Rose remains relatively faithful to the original. Domenico Luciano, as The Spirit of the Rose, is fluid and sinewy. He does not leap through an open window, but believably winds his way into the fantasies and dreams of The Young Woman, played in the closing night performance by Felicia McBride, who projects sleepy-eyed innocence even in her ecstasy.

The Anna Pavlova vehicle, The Dying Swan, was originally choreographed by Mikhail Fokine. Though both were Ballets Russes collaborators, the impassioned, and often parodied, solo was created before the origination of the ballet company. Walsh’s swan appears at first as a glamorous and stoic figure. She sips from a cocktail glass while smoke from her cigarette creates a circlet for her blonde crown. Left alone at a crowded party, her vulnerabilities are revealed. Dancer Rachel Meyer’s intermittent tremble and angular form are subtly bird-like but the solo is too understated and remote to be deeply moving. Dispossessed of the spirited avian beauty which is its signature, The Dying Swan, emerges lifeless.

Rodin's Nijinsky

In Walsh’s satisfying Afternoon of a Faun, the mythical beasts of Nijinsky’s notoriously controversial (in its time) ballet mingle in a garden of reverence for Nijinsky, a being of legend in his own right, and homage to the artist Rodin. The cast of dancers are miraculously lithe and supple. Ty Parmenter and Randolph Ward, both in their first season with the company and playing The Faun and Orefaun, respectively, are especially dazzling when paired for Walsh’s complex partnering. Marissa Gomer, Felicia McBride, and Rachel Meyer stride across stage en pointe as The Nymphs. The illusion of increased length on already leggy bodies is staggering. Walsh, making a cameo appearance as The Creator grants awareness to his creation with skillful authority. Choreographically, he utilizes Rodin’s familiar sculpture of Nijinsky as an inception point and from there Afternoon of a Faun blossoms. It was a high point on the assorted program which most certainly represented a milestone of growth and maturity for Dominic Walsh Dance Theater.

Reprinted from Dance Source Houston

Members of a large Catholic family who experienced childhood in southern Louisiana during the 1950s, sisters Becky Beaullieu Valls and Babette Beaullieu build upon a rich soil of memory for their dance theatre collaboration, Memoirs of the Sistahood. Nearly two years after the debut of Chapter One, the duo has delivered their second installment, Chapter Two: House. A video recap opens the show. Even to the uninitiated, however, the visual prologue is nonessential. This production is sufficiently distinct. Like a house, it is intelligently designed with pattern, substance, and mortar structured around a supportive framework.

Of course, every house needs a hostess. In a vintage cinch-waist dress, narrator Kathy Hallmark delivers an introduction with the saccharine, matter-of-fact tone of a 1950’s television housewife. “All houses are dwellings,” she quotes Paul Oliver’s reference book on vernacular homes throughout the world, “but not all dwellings are houses. To dwell is to make one’s abode: to live in, or at or on, or about a place.” Like Oliver’s book, Chapter Two: House, examines different types and ways to dwell.

Valls glides between choreographic modes as easily as one might move from room to room. She begins with a minimalist, pure movement approach, then displays skillful confidence as the work shifts to burlesque. In Act I, which examines dwellings as structure, Valls shows restraint, choosing not to hide or overdress the circles, lines, and spatial devices that form the skeleton of her choreography. Later, Busby Berkley inspired formations give way to a lively mambo, danced by sepia-toned housewives armed with cornflake boxes and kitchen gadgetry.

Veteran performers, including Valls herself, anchor the company. Dancers, Toni Leago Valle, Jenny Dodson (formerly Magill), and Joani Trevino are consistent in their actualization of Valls’ smooth, expansive movement style, and they transition easily to comedic and presentational delivery.

Clearly, the collaborators are all on the same page with House. Deborah Schlidt’s dreamy film collage weaves in and out of the action as naturally as any performer making an entrance. Images of various types of dwellings, from hovels to tract houses, segue to demolished and water-logged homes. Reclaimed by nature with the brute force of Hurricane Katrina, these homes (or ones like them) may have given up parts of themselves for repurposing in Babette Beaullieu’s found object sculpture and set pieces. Dancers first appear in costumes the color of clay and mud. Attentively designed by Cherie Acosta, these basics are detailed with netting and natural fabrics that echo the weathered patina of the doors, windows, and boxes Beaullieu has fashioned to represent the family homestead. Among these pieces, a playful dinner scene and a bed of sleeping children are given a hazy luminescence by lighting designer Kris Phelps that recalls precious home movie footage of the Beaullieu family.

It all works together, even as these collaborators rather craftily bring their 1950s backdrop to the forefront. I Love Lucy clips play dreamily as the childhood game of playing house transitions effortlessly to a satiric portrayal of real life domesticity. Text from Housekeeping Monthly’s “The Good Wife’s Guide” illustrates the expectations and constraints placed on women saddled with running a home. Fifties era musical selections such as the Dean Martin classic, Sway, fuel the wry comedy which culminates in a kitschy “mobile home” show. The dancers flaunt their best runway sashay in a segment that in lesser hands could have capsized the production.

The milieu of 1950’s iconography remains upright however because Valls and Beaullieu, with their collaborators, thoughtfully maintain a through line. It is no small feat to coalesce this array of concepts. Chapter Two: House reaches coherence because the team has built a solid framework and follows-through with strong images and clear ideas. The enchanting and harmonious collaboration brought the audience to their feet on opening night.

Memoirs of the Sistahood, Chapter Two: House continues next weekend, Oct. 23 & 24 at Barnevelder Movement Arts. Click here for ticket info.

Reprinted from Dance Source Houston

Have you heard of Fieldwork?

In a nutshell, it is a 10-week workshop in which performing artists of various disciplines (dance, theatre, music, writing) gather weekly to share work which they are developing and receive feedback from other participants.

In more detail, Fieldwork is a core program of The Field, which is an organization dedicated to serving “independent performing artists on a completely non-exclusive basis.” (meaning everything is open to artists from all aesthetic viewpoints, cultural backgrounds, and levels of development). Fieldwork participants meet each week to share their work and receive feedback in accordance with a particular system which was developed in the 80s by Steve Gross and other emerging artists. The system involves an experienced facilitator, who guides participants in providing feedback which is thoughtful, honest, and direct. This allows the artist (at any experience level) to feel safe in sharing work that is in development and provides him/her with a response to the work which is meaningful and useful to the process.

for all artists who would like to break through the isolations of working alone, would like to expose their work to a larger circle of artists from other disciplines, and would enjoy getting to know and work with a larger community. Also for people who work better under a deadline, these workshops are an incentive to keep working and producing material. – from The Field Chicago website

If you want to learn more visit www.thefield.org.

My Involvement

Though founded in New York City, The Field has extended its reach through association with other organizations throughout the United States and even into other parts of the world. Fieldwork is made available to artists via members of The Field Network. This is how I’ve come to experience the workshop!

Several Dancers Core, a company founded in Houston and based in both H-town and Atlanta, (I’ve written about them here) initiated The Field Forward Network in 1992. They offer Fieldwork workshops in both cities and I am currently a participant in their Fall Fieldwork session.

My Experience… so far

I’ve completed Week 3 of the 10 weeks. Of Week One, I can say that I didn’t really know what to expect. I came with a loose idea and a phrase of movement. I wasn’t sure how much I would be sharing about my work/process and I’ll admit it made me nervous. I soon discovered that part of the Fieldwork system is for the artist to say very little about their own work, which can be difficult. When presenting something raw and untested, the tendency is to want to explain and defend what you’ve done so far. However it seems the object for the artist in this structure is to show and let the work speak for itself.

It was a bit intimidating to put a single phrase of movement before an audience of other artists without explaining where it was coming from or headed toward. However, a few things comforted me – 1. it was evident that others were in the same predicament, and 2. we were briefed that responses were to focus on non-evaluative statements (not I like/dislike, but I feel/I saw).

By Week Two, some additional work and thoughts were still brewing so I chose not to show, participating as a viewer only. There is value for an artist in this part of the process too. I write about dance and performance. Of course, it hones my skills to talk about what I’ve seen and felt. But, I’ve found I learn about my own artistry and process by reflecting on the work of others. This reflection better equips me to occasionally step away, even from my own work, to “see” it as others might.

In the last session (Week Three), I did have material to show and felt much more relaxed in presenting. What I have appreciated most each time I’ve received feedback is that not everyone in the group has the same level of experience with dance. It provides a richer and truer reflection than I could ever hope to get from a group of other dancers or choreographers. And, though the group is positive and friendly, I am not surrounded by friends but by individuals who are putting the work first.

I want to continue writing a bit about my experiences in the workshop as I go along. This introduction has been quite long and if you are still reading, I appreciate it. I’m going to aim for weekly updates from here out.

Have you been involved in Fieldwork? Whether you have or have not, feel free to share your thoughts below!

Joseph Walsh in Stanton Welch's Swan Lake // Photo: Amitava Sarkar

Houston Ballet corps de ballet member Joseph Walsh is having a great season so far.

This summer it was announced that he had been recognized as an emerging talent in dance with a Princess Grace Award. As a recipient he’ll be joining the esteemed company of past winners such as Ethan Steifel, Robert Battle, Gillian Murphy, as well as five previous winners from Houston Ballet (Yin Le, Carlos Acosta, Tiekka Schofield, Li Cunxin, and Martha Butler).

Now, hot on the heels of a performance in Manon which kicked off Houston Ballet’s 40th Anniversary season, Walsh will perform this weekend as the company unveils Without Boundaries. The program features three works that traverse that sometimes tenuous line between classical ballet and modern dance and will include the world premiere of Artistic Director Stanton Welch’s Elements, as well as company premieres of Twyla Tharp’s In The Upper Room and Jiří Kylián’s Falling Angels. Despite his busy schedule, Walsh took a moment to speak with me about developing as an artist, performing classical versus contemporary works, and attracting young audiences to ballet.

Dance Advantage: First of all, congratulations on being honored with a Princess Grace Award.

Joseph Walsh: Thank you so much! This has been quite the whirlwind start to the season. I cannot say enough about how honored I feel to have even been nominated for this award by our artistic director, much less how amazing it feels to receive it! I will be attending the award ceremony in New York City next month, which is extremely exciting.

Joe Walsh in rehearsal // Photo: Amitava Sarkar

DA: I read your essay which was part of the application process for this award and was impressed with your candor. You describe the feeling that the stage sometimes feels safer than the studio. It is said that we are our own worst critics, do you think that is particularly true for dancers?

JW: Absolutely! Dancing professionally, there is not as much instruction or coaching on a daily basis as there might be in the school in terms of really showing the dancers exactly what to do. In that respect, self-critique is important because there are so many company members and our instructors can’t possibly focus on every individual as much as they would like. As a student we become accustomed to getting critique in class, but in a company you are in charge of your development; it is up to the dancer to understand how their body is working, what he or she needs to work on. The mirror is sometimes the tool that helps us to understand that.

“The lesson for me to learn is how to bring the stage to the studio. It is finding the same level of confidence that I have on stage even with all of those “faces” in the studio standing before me, including the one I see in the mirror.” — To view Walsh’s essay visit Houston Ballet’s blog.

DA: You give examples of lessons you are working to internalize so that you can more fully trust your instincts as an artist. Are there steps you take or things you say to yourself to stay focused and confident when doubts creep in?

JW: Although I am still figuring out better ways to keep my focus throughout the process of rehearsing and performing in roles, something like the Princess Grace Award has really shown me that I can have confidence in myself and in the choices I make in classical or contemporary roles, so long as I deliver them in a way that I understand. Also trying to really open myself up to feedback from the artistic staff and other dancers from Houston Ballet has helped tremendously.

DA: In your essay you also mentioned overcoming a fear of leaving home to attend a boarding school for the arts in Massachusetts. I’m a Pennsylvania native and to my younger self, I might well have gone to school on the moon as to leave home for Boston. How old were you?

JW: I was 15 at the time. I knew ballet was what I wanted to do. I also knew I had to leave home to achieve my goals in dance by getting exposure to the best training I could. The initial fear was really a perceived fear. Once I became fully involved in the program there was no time for fear, only hard but exciting work and a chance to perform in a significant way.

DA: Where did your interest in ballet originate?

JW: I have been attached to ballet for virtually my whole life, starting at age three when I was exposed to it while my sister was dancing. It is actually hard for me to think that there was a time in my life when I did not dance. My interest in dance flourished over the years through intense training and exposure to amazing instructors and great people in the profession.

DA: You are certainly flourishing at Houston Ballet, this weekend you’ll be dancing in two of the three works on the Without Boundaries program; Stanton Welch’s world premiere of Elements and Twyla Tharp’s acclaimed In the Upper Room. Can you tell me a bit about your role in Elements and how it differs from the more classical works you’ve performed?

JW: I am the Element “Air.” As Stanton Welch recently explained to us, Elements is a minimalist ballet piece, where character is not conveyed so much through acting, but through dancing. When I contrast that to classical ballet pieces where there is a story line, the dancer thinks of giving more in terms of acting. In Elements we are trying to give exactly what the choreographer wants. If we give any less or any more, it will lessen the integrity of the piece.

Elements — Choreography by Stanton Welch

Dancer: Ian Casady // Photo: Pam Francis

Dancer: Jonathan Davidsson // Photo: Pam Francis

Dancer: Peter Franc // Photo: Pam Francis

DA: In the Upper Room was originally premiered in 1986 and is one of Tharp’s signature works. Why is it significant for Houston Ballet to finally have a Tharp piece in the repertory? And how is this opportunity significant for you personally?

JW: In my view, the introduction of Tharp’s work continues the efforts to bring to Houston Ballet world-class choreography. Tharp is in that category and it is great to have her work as part of the resume of the company. For the same reason, it is just as important for a dancer personally, to dance in pieces of as many great choreographers as possible.

DA: The work can be pretty fast and furious, driven by the Philip Glass score. What has been the biggest challenge in learning and executing the choreography?

JW: As in most Philip Glass scores it is minimalist, but with much repetition. Tharp also went along those lines In the Upper Room by introducing a lot of repetition and speed to go along with the score. There are many moments throughout when I will almost lose my place in either the choreography or the music purely because of the repetition in both. It can be a little disconcerting at points, but as we have started to put the piece on stage it has become much easier to handle. It is an exciting and challenging piece.

DA: Do you think works like those being premiered in Without Boundaries can serve as a gateway for younger audiences to discover and delve deeper into the art of ballet?

I think what you are saying is really the basis of our company at this point; keeping the integrity of the art form while improving on it by bringing new life and energy through these types of pieces.

DA: Offering a little incentive doesn’t hurt either. In fact, Houston Ballet has been trying some new things lately to reach out to a younger audience. They recently launched their Young Professionals program for the “under 40″ crowd. And they have Under 25 Friday night performances for which 18 to 25 year-olds get a steal on tickets – $15 for one or $25 for two. I don’t think it is a secret that patrons of ballet and often dance in general are a more “mature” crowd. Why do you think it is harder to get younger “butts in the seats?”

JW: Young people are simply not as exposed to ballet as they are to popular sports and other forms of entertainment. There is not the same level of cultural awareness of ballet. Many younger people still see ballet as a stale art form. This is one reason Houston Ballet is doing exciting and fast paced ballet pieces like the triple bill next weekend. And of course, approaches like the Under 25 program are helping to make it much more affordable.

Walsh in William Forsythe's The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude // Photo: Amitava Sarkar

Originally from Pennsylvania, Joseph Walsh trained at Walnut Hill School for the Performing Arts near Boston, American Ballet Theatre and Houston Ballet’s Ben Stevenson Academy. He was a member of Houston Ballet II prior to joining the professional company in 2007, and since then has been featured in a variety of contemporary and classical roles including Lensky in John Cranko’s Onegin, Charles d’Artoise in Stanton Welch’s Marie, and William Forsythe’s The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude.

Houston Ballet will give six performances of Without Boundaries at Wortham Theater Center in downtown Houston. Tickets may be purchased by calling 713 227 2787 or by visiting www.houstonballet.org

All you need is love… right?

Perhaps, but in their new work Squeeze, which was presented at Barnevelder last weekend, Psophonia Dance Company articulates we are under pressure to “need” a lot more. A big house, more stuff, the latest, greatest, and… a ShamWow? No wait, that’s the rug that is being yanked out from under our feet as poor spending habits finally catch up with us.

The show has visual and auditory appeal. Black, white, and red all over, the costuming pops with graphic prints and bright solids. Lighting designer, Jaime Melendez supports this motif with splashes of warm hues, choosing appropriate moments to cast deep shadows with stark white lighting. And the score, featuring everything from Beatles tunes to Soujla Boy and mixed by Jeremiah DiMatteo, is equally playful and fetching.

During portions of Squeeze, co-directors/choreographers Sophia Torres and Sonia Noriega are gently wagging their fingers but in a non-discriminatory way toward themselves, the powers that be, the audience. In a swipe at creditors, the evening’s ringmaster/narrator played by Toni Valle, describes the convoluted conditions upon which the audience can secure the return of their money, should they wish to do so following the performance.

But, Squeeze isn’t all about finances. There’s a smidgen of sensuality as the dancers parade onto and across the stage in a Vegasy opener. And, a touch of technology — the audience is invited to text or, for the tragically hip, “tweet” during a brief intermission. Also there’s a “healthy” dose of paranoia as a few sneezes and the threat of swinish germs undermine the dancers’ ability to connect with one another.

These big ideas, however, seem to appear and then fizzle as metaphors. There’s the tantalizing proposition that we’ve been invited to a three-ring circus, but the references disappear by Act II. There is an underutilized set piece shaped like a house. There are tomatoes begging to be squashed that remain untouched until the finale, where they meet their fate without even a squish. Torres and Noriega are tossing concepts at the audience without follow through. By the conclusion, I am not certain if they are commenting or simply caving to a deficit in attention by squeezing this many hot topics into a one-hour show.

Guest artist, Valle, well-known for her own dancing and choreography is more actor than dancer in Squeeze. She delivers convincing monologues, her strong stage presence a plus. The theatrics, however, dominate the production, sometimes eclipsing the choreography. Exceptions include a clever section in which the dancers partner orange bathmats, sliding them from place to place with their hands, feet, and other body parts, as well as the aforementioned sneeze segment. A moment, featuring  dancer Stephanie Beall, also stands out. She is revealed on a stool, pulls an imaginary chord, alters her position in darkness, and is revealed again. It is simple but effective. Torres, herself, is a welcome addition in the small ensemble. She carves broad strokes with her movement, distinctive when she appears as a soloist, but blending well with performers, Scarlett Barnes, Stephanie Beall, Naphtali  Beyleveld, and Tapley Whaley otherwise.

On opening night more than one group of late-arriving patrons was allowed to cross in front of the performers throughout the evening, even with only 5 minutes remaining in the production. This is disappointing because one would hope that on the lips of audience members, as they filter from the theatre, would be the performance itself.

Though Squeeze is inconsistent in shape and direction, it succeeds as an entertaining portrayal of current events. It does not enlighten with answers, nor does it cause deep introspection or questioning. Rather, it holds up a mirror. I recognized the image and walked away nodding.

Reprinted from Dance Source Houston

Posted in News and Reviews Tagged: houston, psophonia, review, squeeze ]]> http://nichelledances.wordpress.com/2009/06/28/squeeze-psophonia-dance-company/feed/ 0 dancingbarefoot http://nichelledances.wordpress.com/2009/06/27/memories-of-spain/ http://nichelledances.wordpress.com/2009/06/27/memories-of-spain/#comments Sun, 28 Jun 2009 05:12:09 +0000 Nichelle http://nichelledances.wordpress.com/?p=433 ]]>

Dancemakers Katherine Dunham and Pearl Primus, have notably and characteristically synthesized their investigations in movement with their study of culture and humankind. As a graduate of anthropology, Sara Draper, the artistic director of Dancepatheatre, has taken a similar approach. In her one-night-only, June 20 repertory concert, Memories of Spain, she traversed the Iberian Peninsula with postcard precision. A glimpse of the region’s ancient history, a peek at its rhythmical underpinning, a gander at its cultural temperament. Including revisited work, dance in development, and a premiere performance, the evening managed to coalesce into an enticing mosaic, depicting not only Spanish culture, but Draper’s own creative sojourns.

Leading with two recovered works, Draper gave the audience a taste of her past in El Cerrojo and The Back, a self-choreographed solo work lifted from her 2003 Life Museum series. El Cerrojo (The Door Latch) is a duet for two women set to both English and Spanish translations of the Bible’s fifth chapter of Song of Songs. The text is punctuated by compass seco (pure percussion) clapping rhythms. On this evening, dancers Lydia Hance and Joani Trevino gave strong performances, fervor rising to the surface in waves as they waited and searched together for their lover.

Sheathed in a classic but simple gown and deftly concealing her face throughout The Back, Draper’s envious dorsal musculature is on display. The Back quivers in what we might imagine is a fit of tears. Like Atlas, it bears the weight of the world. In a final, climactic image, The Back supports the wingspan of a free and ascending spirit. At first glance, the Chopin score (a sparkling rendition of Nocturne No. 2 played live onstage by Timothy Hester), and the work’s focus on physique seemed an uncertain fit for the program. However, Draper’s introspective look at the hardships and joys of womanhood, and her sensual, feminine, and unpretentious treatment of this body part was, unexpectedly, a complimentary prologue.

A tonadilla, I discovered, is literally a little ditty that was originally inserted during the entr’acte of theatrical productions in 18th century Spain.  Satirical and gossipy commentaries on Spanish life, these interludes featured singers that rose to a level of fame that would rival today’s pop stars. A collection of five short pieces in this style were utilized in a premiere work, aptly titled Five Tonadilla with Elementals. Though I had none of the above frame of reference and understood none of the Spanish lyric, these melodramatic vignettes nevertheless emerged as a charming collection.

For Draper, this was a first attempt to incorporate a classical vocalist into her choreography. Overall the blending worked. It is a challenge to put non-dancers on stage beside trained movers. For the most part soloist Shannon Langman, seemed at home with the subtle gestures and more pedestrian adaptations of the core choreography. She exhibited expert control of tone and breath even while moving toward or rising from the floor and as she fell backward in a maneuver of trust with the dancers. It was ultimately Langman that stole this performance as the symmetrical hovering of the two Elementals (again a pairing of Lydia Hance and Joani Trevino), often blended into the background.

Following an interjected flamenco suite featuring guitarist Valdemar Phoenix and dancer Ana de la Peza, were extracted solos and duets from Dancepatheatre’s ongoing project, Al Andalus! The Legend. Having feasted on a program of thumbnail dances thus far, I’ll admit I was ready to sink my teeth into something a bit meatier. I got more appetizers. Pushing this aside, however, the seven snapshots increased in their allure as the program progressed. Lydia Hance and Richard Hubscher were a technically beguiling pair. Missing, however, was the chemistry befitting two lovers. A male duet featuring Hubscher and Sterling Ramsey seemed tentative. However, standout performances concluded the program. Namely, a pre-flamenco gypsy solo performed by singer and dancer Lucia Rodriguez-Sanchez and two contrasting solos by dancer Kristina Koutsoudas. Shrouded in a black Moorish tunic revealing only her hands and eyes, and somberly illuminated according to Jeremy Choate’s design, Koutsoudas was mesmerizing as a mournful Berber princess whose tribe has been slaughtered. Equally captivating were the joyous and seductive gyrations of her hips and torso in a celebratory finale. I will be curious to see this epic work eventually complete with the transitions and continuity I craved.

Posted in News and Reviews Tagged: anthropology, dancepatheatre, houston, sara draper, Spain, Spanish ]]> http://nichelledances.wordpress.com/2009/06/27/memories-of-spain/feed/ 1 dancingbarefoot http://nichelledances.wordpress.com/2009/05/31/big-range-program-a/ http://nichelledances.wordpress.com/2009/05/31/big-range-program-a/#comments Mon, 01 Jun 2009 01:30:11 +0000 Nichelle http://nichelledances.wordpress.com/?p=420 ]]>

Big Range Dance Festival 2009 — Program A

Andee Scott / photo by Simon Gentry

On Big Range Dance Festival’s opening night, I Am Stranger was a stand-out. The piece, conceived and directed by Jeanine Durning, is one of five works commissioned by solo-performer, Andee Scott for her project Woman’s Work: Reconstructions of Self. Austin was treated to the performance in its entirety last year. However, with an amendable structure, I doubt any two stagings of this segment are exactly alike.

Kristen Frankiewicz’s self-choreographed I’m So Alone is as informal and youthful as the contraction in its title. She is charming and unassuming. And, though the dance seems trapped in its linear pathway across stage, rapid-fire articulations and floor work showcase Frankiewicz’s fluid strength.

Scatterplot presents Leslie Scates and four student performers in an improvisational score. Earnest and committed, the performers (with the exception of Scates herself) simply lack the improvisational experience and the technical mastery of the more experienced dancers on the bill, making the whole work feel out-of-place. Jeremy Choate’s skill at lighting wasn’t enough to hold the scattered arrangement together.

Toni Leago Valle’s Baptism exhibits a trio of strong female performers, Lindsey McGill, Nicole McNeil, and Brittany Wallis. Valle always surprises with inventive devices. Water flings from the dancers limbs and hair after they’ve doused themselves onstage. It’s cool but treacherous. After two slippery missteps by the dancers, who recovered well despite conditions, my attention wandered from choreography to casualty.

Philip, Philip Glass, Philip Glass Glass Glass, Philip Philip Glass. The minimalist composer is a favorite of choreographers but Becky Valls crafts a kinetic equivalent in Territory. The dancers, including Valls herself, draw circular lines and boundaries which are crossed, entered, and over-stepped. As the perimeters become more linear, we see Valls take the reins as border control, literally painting her dancers into a corner. An excerpt of Valls’ Memoirs of the Sistahood: Chapter Two, this study on defining space satisfyingly completes a thought.

Reprinted from Dance Source Houston

Last Friday evening I had an early dinner with my little family, said goodnight to my toddler as he prepared for his nightly bath, and voyaged downtown to catch Aspen Santa Fe Ballet at the Wortham. The company, which closed out Houston’s Society of the Performing Arts season with three selections from their repertory, are unique in a number of ways… here are three of them:

1. They are a rare two-city organization, operating in both Aspen, Colorado and Santa Fe, New Mexico.
2. With only ten dancers, this group is small even for a small ballet company.
3. They have no resident choreographer, meaning that their entire repertory consists of acquired or commissioned work.

The trio of works on the program Friday night were excellent examples of ASFB’s eclecticism. Twyla Tharp’s “Sweet Fields,” “Red Sweet,” by choreographer-on-the-rise, Jorma Elo, and “Noir Blanc,” masterminded by Pilobolus co-founder and Momix Artistic Director, Moses Pendleton. Their two-word titles are just about all these three dances have in common.

1. 

   Photo by Rosalie O'Connor

   “Sweet Fields” – Featuring Sacred Harp music and other a cappella selections in the Shaker tradition, this work is an homage of sorts to Tharp’s Quaker origins. Light, streaming onto a dark stage, ritualistic gesture, and a tableau reminiscent of pallbearers at a funeral, set a somber tone. A moment which involves a male dancer being tossed in the air helicopter-style seems to initiate an ascent in mood, though. The dancers’ costumes, barely more than negligee have a classic look that matches the geometrically sculptured, yet lyrical, movement vocabulary that could perhaps feel truly joyous if it weren’t weighted by the work’s monotonous music. I wanted to connect to this work but I just didn’t, and I didn’t sense that the company of dancers did either.

2. “Red Sweet” – It was a pleasure to make acquaintance with Jorma Elo’s work. Turning traditional ballet partnering on its ear, he creates moments of charmingly silly situational humor. The ASFB dancers make the most of these sly and witty comedic “bits” and demonstrate their ability to harmonize as an ensemble. Though it took me a few minutes to suss out where Elo was taking me, it was clear that ASFB were enjoying this one. When I finally got into the rhythm and riffs of “Red Sweet,” I was captivated. There is a playfulness in this work that seems nearly spontaneous and I found it really intriguing that some of the most fun and witty gags were reserved for exits, a choreographic “space” that sometimes is neglected.
3. “Noir Blanc” – Let me preface this portion of my assessment by stating that I had quite a unique experience viewing the final work of the evening. Invited to watch from a top secret location within the theatre (no, I’m not making this up), I sat in a small room with a handful of other dance writers and promoters. And, as if that weren’t odd enough, we chattered away during the entire number in our little sound-proof pad, oohing and awing, as I imagine the rest of the audience did.”Noir Blanc” is a masterfully innovative little gem — not surprising, having been conceived by a choreographer known for delighting audiences. Though some write off this type of work as being little more than spectacle, it’s clear to me that not everyone can make work that thrills without being completely vacuous or pandering. This particular work has an other-worldly quality supported by projections of celestial bodies and a collage of New Age music. The dancers, wearing black and white unitards, are lit with black light. They are instruments, played for the veneration of the work which manipulates positive and negative space to reveal bodies floating horizontally in mid-air and balancing in impossibly precarious positions. Nothing is “black and white” in this choreography as the mind struggles to keep up with the illusion.

If it seems I’ve spent a lot of this review talking about choreography, you are probably right. Aspen Santa Fe Ballet, as an organization, distinguishes itself by putting the work at the forefront. They make absolutely no apologies for this, strategically collecting a wide variety of pieces by prominent contemporary choreographers that entertain and move audiences. What is delightful is that this little ballet company from the western mountains of the United States quite capably navigates such sundry terrain.