What do you go to dance for—and to what extent did this dance give you that?

And I’ll give a partial answer. One of the things I go to dance for is kinesthetic pleasure—the feeling of the imagined body, the mental map of the body, moving along with the performers on stage. You’d think after five years of being a dance critic, not to mention twenty-five years of dancing, my system would be jaded, responsive only to the most unusual or extreme movements. But as far as I can tell, the kinesthetic sense doesn’t work like that. It’s one of the basic, inexhaustible pleasures of life, like sex or eating. Any time I see an arm reaching to the sky, urge spreading out through the ribcage, I feel the same thrill. Even the minute, waving permutations of a hand are magic.

The Good Dance definitely gave me that—all those sweeps and reaches, plus tiny engines of fine-grained coordination. But the pleasure wasn’t unadulterated. Wilson and Ouamba intentionally (I believe) cut through that pleasure in order to find another aspect of the dance.

I’ll stop there. But what other aspects were you looking for? And what did you find?

Both the challenge and the appeal of any classical tradition—think Western classical music, or classical ballet—lie in its practitioners’ commitment to enacting (at its best) profound expression within a strictly circumscribed vocabulary.

This is true–but I want to add a little to it–which is that the language of a classical form makes up a world. Ideally you cross into that world at some point; you cease to see the vocabulary itself.

Photo by Cameron Wittig, courtesy Walker Art Center

The next scene is a circus-like flurry of dancers including Jim Dominick, Taylor Dreyling, Sarah Fifer, Penelope Freeh, Marisha Johnson, Anshul Paranjape, Kimberly Richardson, Sally Rousse, Dylan Skybrook, and Laurie van Weiren. They waltz with flexed feet and spiraling arms.  I see a bullfighter, Michael Jackson Thriller choreography, and a humorous moment when the dancers hit their foreheads with the heels of their hands.  Who are they? What are their roles?

“Paramount to my footage” covers a history of the life of Sally Rousse.  I see that Alek Keshishian, most known for Madonna’s Truth or Dare, was a creative consultant.  Will Sally be just as sexy yet emotionally disconnected as Madonna in revealing what lies behind the public image of an iconic figure?

A lot of territory was covered in 45 minutes.  Some poignant moments for me were seeing a projection of Sally’s father’s eye against the diagonal screen as if he were watching the performance from atop a mountain, Kimberly Richardson’s solo as Goddess of the Wind, a duet between Penelope Freeh and Sally in which they tap dance in their pointe shoes, LVW as an MC asking cliche celebrity questions, and when Sally finally mourned a loss- that of her first husband- and cried into a harmonica.  I wonder what it would be like to explore just one of the many facets of Sally’s life more in-depth for a production? Say focusing on just the story of her first husband? Or the birth of her first child? or just her childhood?  It’s challenging to face a time constraint of a shared evening.

An autobiography can be empowering because one can acknowledge that oneself has been through a lot to get where they are today.  It can be triumphant and a testament to one’s survival through the good and bad.  An autobiography can also be quite vulnerable.  I wonder if I hadn’t read the closing statement that shares the details of the creator’s life prior to the performance.  If I hadn’t, how might the experience been different? How can an artist transcend from personal to universal so that a viewer has a connection to the work? Let’s talk.

Photo by Cameron Wittig, courtesy Walker Art Center

Megan wrote in her artist statement that she wanted to “create distinctive solos for each of the performers inspired by their commanding presences both onstage and off.”  She was successful!   Here’s what I observed:

Greg Waletski’s solo was charming and playful as he reveled in exuberance shouting “Oh my God!” as he climbed the stairs into the house of the Southern Theater.  I’m reminded of joyful first experiences in my childhood- the thrill of the stage, pride in the small successes.

Kristin Van Loon performed an exquisite solo inverted against the wall to Louie Armstrong  lyrics “I put a spell on you…..”  I was intrigued by the manipulation of her face with her hands to create a caricature of someone devious and determined.  She stopped, took a sip of whiskey, sprayed down her mane with aerosol hairspray, then returned to the wall.  Oh yeah, we get a sneak peak at some striped underwear (a foreshadowing of the closing scene).  She is utterly captivating as a performer on stage with her authentic responses, intentional articulation and total body connection.

Charles Campbell, the performer who ate regurgitated green peas and urinated on the stage floor of Bryant Lake Bowl in a piece I saw back a few months ago (which by the way was unforgettable!), shared a triumphant piece with a trophy.  Napoleon Dynamite only wishes he could dance that well!

And now Megan Mayer, the creator.  Here we go……….. She struggles to find that picture perfect shape then beats the air with her limbs before crumbling to the floor. She’s up and bourres (spell?) offstage and returns with a bar stool to take a seat and sing Elvis’s heartbreaking lyrics “Were you lying when you said you loved me?”  She passes out from the drama? the exertion? the heartache?- we laugh.  She retreats to a hidden corner upstage against the shins.  We see her blue legs as the cast stays centerstage and improvises with crossed legs on chairs.

Drums kick in- a duple meter aerobics routine begins- the 4 performers create a rhythmic machine that rotates and they begin to talk about hmmmm, an inside joke?

Lights and sound out. I hear ventilation and rattling in the Southern. No one in the house moves or coughs.  Megan returns to the space with a light and she illuminates the walls, the grid, the house, and the dancers.  It’s very zen as we all become present to take a moment and examine this space with fresh eyes.

Theresa Madaus is the last to perform a solo.  She is the kid sister of the group, but she holds her own performing a little ditty with finger puppets, running, and finishes by flying home into the arms of her family. Dig the green high tops!

After a mambo routine, the cast takes their clothes off to reveal psychadelic undies.  They line up down centerstage and they synchronistically fall back – a unified group- to the upstage brick wall, pinned, poised, finished.

I’m curious about Megan’s process in relation to the spontaneity of the flow of the performance.  One thing is apparent, there was a strong sense of community and comradre amidst the performers.  They danced together, and respectfully complimented the soloist that took a turn in the spotlight.   I can only imagine that rehearsals were fun and playful. Nice.

2 silk screens unfold beneath the Southern Theater’s archway.  I experience a projection of grass with stone amidst a soundscore of wind.  I see elements of Earth, Air, Fire, and finally Water.  Sachiko slowly appears upstage- she is curled in all white and slowly unravels to the gorgeous music created by Ben Abrahamson and La Conja.

Photo by Cameron Wittig, courtesy Walker Art Center

Laura Horn as the Apple Tree comes to life and the two women dance together- spiraling and twisting in both unison and aunison phrases.  Precise shapeshifting unfolds- these Flamenco dancers have an ability to balance fluidity in the core and arms simultaneously with bold strength and rhythmic percussion in their feet.

Sachiko and Edwin meet for a duet.  She now garners a long mermaid tail-like skirt in bold orange, which she exquisitely maneuvers throughout their encounter.  Passion is tangible in the air for a dramatic courting.

3 guys shows up and distract Edwin from his life mission.  They circle him and tease with a 4-count meter of stomp-clap-clap-clap repeated over and over.  Laura and Sachiko twirl upstage behind the safety of the white transparent walls.  The men welcome Edwin back, but back to what?

All is silent and I see a balancing white light projected against the silk screen wall stage left.  I see moving dots in the globe reminiscent of birds.  The tree (Laura) and the girl (Sachiko) counterbalance with one another upstage.  There is tension in their breath.  The girl moves into the globe and then into a tunnel of light on the diagonal from downstage right to upstage left.  And now I am engaged………

Our female heroine moves on this diagonal of light- she is tormented by her past and by the future ahead.  Her eyes can’t stand to stay present- she only looks ahead and behind.  She shivers, lunges and whirls as she closes her eyes to the passion from time to time.  I see a silhouette of her spiraling fingers against her neck, torso and face.  She argues with the tree, and then the shimmering pool of blue light from the opening scene reappears center stage.  The girl is beckoned.  She pulls away and begins a rhythmic shuffling of her feet that is synchronistically executed with the beat of La Conga’s clapping hands.  She succumbs to the water and bends backwards as the tree regrows above her.

“The Apple Tree” closed with the young man (Edwin) back at the opening scene- he is haunted by images of the young girl, reminiscent of the previous scenes of her dancing.  He grabs for her in the air and pulls his fists into his core.  They are empty and the lights fade.

Photo by Cameron Wittig, courtesy Walker Art Center

Smart, intelligent, and ambitious to have 68 performers joining a Director on stage.  68 performers who may or may not have experience, and I happen to know a handful of them who are students of mine at Zenon Dance School.  Isn’t that the woman I see at the Wedge each week? And that guy- he’s around Dinkytown, perhaps he’s a student at the University of Minnesota?  These performers are proud to be acknowledged as they revel in their stage time at the Southern Theater.  I am proud of them too.  Program notes indicate that the recruitment took place over 2 months via flyers, emails, and posts.  Bringing dance to the masses. Ambitious.

Obviously, the house is sold out.  If each performer were to invite 2 guests- there you have it. Smart.

The indifference is halted as a member of “En Masse” leaves the group to introduce themselves in the microphone,  ”I am …., I’m from a small town named ………….., it’s that place not far from…………”  I am intrigued by the individuality and history behind the voice of each and every one of these members.  Some in suits, some in sweats, some decked out, others as if they just got off their bike.  There is a projection of the group against the walls of the Southern in a negative imposed image, circling in the same counter-clockwise direction in slow motion, a contrast between a gentle gait and a 90 degree bent angle jog.

The director moves to the center of the group and starts a trot and they join her.  Memories of Grand Central Station flood my mind as they run about, doing their daily business as an unforgettable face in a crowd.  I see a beautiful kaleidoscope of bodies- different sizes, shapes, colors, textures, aesthetics, and backgrounds.

Suddenly the group splits in half- like an atom and the projection is of atoms in space, dots on a map, as the Brian Eno-like soundscore turns way up, way up til I feel it in vibrating in my core.  Riot!!!!  Disease, infection, anger, violence, close proximity is no longer celebrated but becomes infectious.  I see b-boys striking inverted poses, Modern dance heiresses striking tender positions, and others running all over the aisles and house of the theater.  Light emits from 2 speaker-like light rigs that hang just behind the archway. I love it! Is it an alien invasion? Close encounters of the Third Kind? A rave? A concert? A celebration?  I dig those lights- I want more!

Lights out.  I’m afraid of the dark. I hear breathing, steps shuffling, and a frantic urgency to find the collective wholeness of the group.  There is safety in numbers, safety in numbers, safety in numbers…….

Lights up- they waltz.  I wonder what it would be like if in place of these very performers we had members of the diverse dance pools of the Twin Cities dance community pairing up and moving in harmony.

Vanessa emerges from the group- she is lost in the crowd- standing her significance- a duality of invisibility and conformity with individuality and ownership.

The collective evolves into a gesture- I am fascinated with the idea of the childhood game “telephone.” A word or gesture translated into a crowd of 68- the variations and slight imperfections are intriguing.   I find relief when they walk as pedestrians again, that familiar indifference feels satisfying. Stop! thump, thump, thump. A steady pulse that is reflected in beautiful projection against the proscenium, music that matches.   I want more, stop, wait, there it is again. Thump, thump, thump.  The group taps their fingers to their chest, their heart, in perfect synchronicity to the walls and the sound.  Home.

The stage is disassembled- those fabulous 2 speak-like light boards struck, the microphones dismantled. I hear celebration in their voices and steps and gestures.  A task has been accomplished with great efficiency and grace- the power of community effort.

Sherman was kind enough to send some of her thoughts about the Twin Cities dance scene for a story in the July-August issue of Walker magazine; below you can read them in full. John Munger and Carl Flink also shared their insights about the state of dance both locally and nationally: click here for John Munger’s interview; we’ll follow soon with Carl Flink.

“One quality that I feel really defines the dance scene in the Twin Cities is rigor. I think many dance artists here are truly pushing themselves, looking for ways to go deeper into their work and are asking questions about dance as a form in general. There is a desire to find one’s own voice but also to transcend it, or at least to use that voice to say something unexpected in each new project. Maybe the long winters facilitate that kind of concentration — I mean, what else are you going to do all winter? Plus, there have long been some excellent funding sources and fellowships available to Minnesota artists that encourage and make possible considered artistic exploration. Unfortunately, those sources have taken a hit over recent years and dramatically so in the last few months. That’s really a shame because those resources set us apart from other cities and have helped build a creative infrastructure that actually generates hundreds of jobs and millions of dollars in revenue.

Dance artists here are also very aware of what is going on nationally in a way that I don’t see in other cities. The Walker of course enables many local artists to see what’s going on by bringing in national and international artists, but I have many colleagues who fly all over the world to take classes, teach, see shows and so on. There is a real dedication and genuine desire to know what’s going on, to be inspired by other people’s work, and to further one’s own inquiries.

I’ve also been impressed by how artists from different forms of dance take interest in each other’s work. That seems partly due to the smaller size of the TC dance scene compared to New York, where the dance scene is so vast that you could choose one form of dance — ballet, contemporary, modern — and basically see only that all year long. We don’t have that kind of density in the Twin Cities, which is good and bad, but overall I find there is enough dance in general here that you can attend shows year-long, but not so much of one kind that that’s all you see. I almost never see anything but contemporary dance in New York so it’s been nice to branch out in my own viewing.

The Twin Cities could use more venues that present fully-produced work by local artists, venues with a less commercial bent, ones more akin to the Walker. There aren’t quite enough opportunities like this locally and artists who are making new, full-evening pieces every 1-2 years are limited as to where they can perform them — they tend to show at the same theater every time because the options are limited. At the same time, this has made a lot of us seek out touring opportunities, either on a DIY level or gigs that are commissioned and fully supported. That requires a lot more money and administration to make happen, but it means we get to go a lot of great places and meet so many other amazing artists. I think we have a reputation for this now. When I perform in other cities, artists often tell me that they hear great things are happening in Minneapolis or that they have seen some of my colleagues perform in their city or some other town. They have rarely been to Minneapolis themselves so this speaks to how Minneapolitans get around, but it also means we should figure out more ways we can bring them here to show us what they’re doing. But you kind of have to invite them to come in the summer or it’s just too cruel.”

First up is John Munger; we’ll follow with Karen Sherman and Carl Flink.

Munger is a locally based dancer who has, as he says, “been observing the field for 20 years or more, depending on how you look at my job descriptions.” One of those jobs is to create statistical portraits of dance – performers, companies, venues, performances, genres, etc. – both locally and nationally, in his role as director of research and information for Dance USA, a Washington, D.C.-based service organization. Click here for a full bio.

“When my first wife and I were dancing in Colorado and decided to move to a bigger pond, we looked around the country and thought the Twin Cities had a lot of promise. We moved here in 1978. So I’ve been here 31 years and part of the reason I stayed, aside from quality of life and things like that, is because as I’ve been here, the arts and dance communities have fulfilled that promise we saw when we were kids-it’s fulfilled it richly.

My succinct take on the evolution of the dance community here is: During the 1970s, there was an era of a handful of major companies. From about 1980 to 1995 or 1996, there was an era of enormous growth that was based on the efforts of individual choreographers here at home. And for the last 12 yrs or so, that model has grown into larger companies and greater national presence.

There are clearly two major dance centers in America, New York and San Francisco. After those, depending on whom you talk with, about 6 or 8 other cities are named as being among the four most significant, after those centers-including Chicago, the twin cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul, Seattle, Los Angeles, and greater Washington, D.C.

These cities are not necessarily in competition with each other; rather, they’re all different from each other — we’ve determined this through research. We can quantify ways in which best practices from one community will not translate to another, because these places are genuinely, uniquely different.

And while the Twin Cities are in that group, quite frankly, the hardest message I’ve had to communicate in my 30 years living here is to tell media and the general public that this is one of the key dance communities in the country. It is the most diverse among those secondary those cities, and compact as well-and that is a unique construction.

For example, Seattle has basically 3 categories of dance companies, including a ballet company of major size. We don’t have a $6-million budget flagship ballet company in the Cities, but we do have about 10 categories of dance among our more than 200 companies. There are about 14 companies with budgets over $100,000 (up to $1 million) — including James Sewell Ballet, Ragamala Dance Theater, Shapiro & Smith Dance, Ballet of the Dolls, Zenon Dance Company. There’s also percussive footwork companies, there’s Indian dance. There’s Ethnic Dance Theater. Eastern European/Western Russian dance, classical and contemporary ballet. All these companies have budgets over $100,000.

Not one other city in the country matches our per-capita distribution of companies that size. Chicago actually has about 17 such companies, but their total population is two-and-a-half times our size. We also have more solidly established mid-sized companies in this city, on a per-capita basis, than anywhere else in the U.S. except New York City, which has about 37 mid-sized companies.

That is part of what makes us compact yet varied. We also have variations in age, with highly visible choreographers in their 20s and 30s, 40s, 50s, and even a few in their 60s. We have companies that have been around for 30, 20, and 10 year, as well as those recently formed. We have major mid-level and small upstart organizations working in ballet, in modern, in culturally specific dance, in percussive forms, experimental forms-all of them. We have over 50 nationalities and cultures represented through dance in these cities, and all of this is compressed into a community of about 3.5 million people. If you know where everybody is, you can go see any of them. Whereas in, say, San Francisco, or Brooklyn, those numbers are overwhelming.

This whole picture in the Twin Cities — ages of choreographers, degrees of experience, sizes and duration of companies, dance genres — all of that is richly represented. And that is what brought me here. I’m still here, delighted to be here, it’s a terribly exciting place to be involved with dance.”

This year they set themselves the challenge of finding one streamlined concept that would still show the divergent visions of Sally Rousse, Megan Mayer, Vanessa Voskuil, and Sachiko Nishiuchi (all of whose work was still very much in-progress at the time of the shoot). It involved calling on a sizable group of Walker performing arts fans/volunteers to come to the McGuire Theater for a four-hour shoot one evening; more than a dozen obliged, bringing along their own wardrobe items to boot. The assembled group walked through the each shot, creating a blur of human action as a backdrop to the dancers, who struck stock-still poses.

Volunteers await their cue at one end of the stage. For Sachiko Nishiuchi's image they were asked to dress in colorful garb; for other images they changed into gray.

Here are outtakes from Nishiuchi’s shoot, taken by by performing arts assistant Emily Taylor. You can see Wittig’s final shots with all four choreographers in the July/August issue of Walker magazine, which will land in members’ mailboxes in mid-June (otherwise, pick up a copy at the Walker or at sites all around the Cities).

Posing and draping Sachiko and her partner.

Cameron shoots the procession