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Revealing the Space / Revealing the Dance: Penelope Freeh on Chris Schlichting’s Stripe Tease

To spark discussion, the Walker invites Twin Cities artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Penelope Freeh shares her perspective on the World Premiere […]

Photo: Gene Pittman.

Stripe Tease artists, left to right: JT Bates, Jennifer Davis, Max Wirsing, Dustin Maxwell, Jeremy Ylvisaker, Tristan Koepke, Laura Selle-Virtucio, Mary Ann Bradley, Krista Langberg, and Mike Lewis. Photo: Gene Pittman

To spark discussion, the Walker invites Twin Cities artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Penelope Freeh shares her perspective on the World Premiere of Chris Schlichting’s Stripe Tease. Agree or disagree? Feel free to share your thoughts in comments! 

From the beginning of Stripe Tease I feel as though I am in good hands. Two men enter in silence and commence a dance, opening the main drape in the process. It is an elegant and surprising gesture, the curtain billowing apart then slowly opening part way.

Silence continues as the duet takes the space. I remember that Chris’ last epic dance, Matching Drapes, ended with these very men, Max Wirsing and Dustin Maxwell, engaged in an elegant arm wrestle that resembles what I see here. I love this notion: start your new epic dance where your other one left off…

During the course of this hour-long work various parts of the space are revealed: the upstage curtain opens to display a striped backdrop in day-glo colors, side wings disappear, side balcony curtains move aside revealing drawings of tigers in the same palette, and the musicians are exposed upstage left with a vertical tiger lurking behind. These scenic elements, designed by Jennifer Davis, deftly support the stripe theme and the notion of tease/reveal.

The six dancers, at various times, occupy the entire theater. They use the stairs, the side balconies, the exit doors. The masterful lighting by Joe Levasseur sometimes shines on the audience, involving us and possibly implicating us.

And now to the dance, ah the dance and the dancing. Chris’ movement is highly gestural, arms often swishing, swiping, initiating. There is virtually no partnering and yet relationships abound. His choreographic sweet spot seems to reside in quartet work, pitting two dancers in contrast to the other pair then seamlessly swapping unison partners. The dancers track one another’s movements, rather like tigers, racing with them down a diagonal and tearing back. Often one dancer frames another’s movement, a sort of tracing with abstract gesture and physical intention.

The soundscape, played live by Alpha Consumer (Jeremy Ylvisaker, JT Bates, and Michael Lewis) perfectly accompanies the complex choreography. The music does not dictate the steps. It hovers alongside them, inspiring but not enforcing rhythms. The movement contains its own rhythmic impulses, likely based upon what works well with contrasting steps and also perhaps driven by an abstract dramaturgy of sorts. To my eye, the dancers groove on having the music there to support them. Laura Selle Virtucio in particular let her passion shine through, leveraging her exhaustion to dig deep.

The steps unto themselves are not particularly hard. The virtuosity resides in the craft of how the dancers move in relation to one another and in the duration of certain passages. A rapid-fire yet simple gestural arm and hand choreography becomes sublime in duplicate. Unison and relationship reveal rigor and intelligence.

The three other wonderful dancers are Dolo McComb, Krista Langberg and Tristan Koepke. All the dancers serve the overall vision while remaining utterly themselves, unusual to see amidst so much unison and the need for keeping an eye on one another.

The work was by turns mesmerizing and edge-of-my-seat inducing. There were quiet moments that apertured in, like in the opening arm dance, and full-throttle moving acrobatics that laced and spun and careened. There were beautiful, very feminine feeling gestures, fascinating to see on male bodies. Then later a double knocking gesture became a signature, ever so slightly more hard-edged.

Get your tickets, folks. There is an added show, Saturday at 2pm as the others are virtually sold out.

For a World Premiere, this work is well cooked. It has legs beyond this moment and may well be one of those occasions about which we can say we saw it when.

Stripe Tease continues in the Walker’s McGuire Theater tonight, Friday, February 20 at 8pm, and tomorrow, Saturday, February 21 at 2pm and 8pm. 

Talk Dance: Chris Schlichting on Stripe Tease

Talk Dance is a podcast series devoted to in-depth conversations with dance artists produced and hosted by local dancer, educator, and commentator Justin Jones. In this installment, Jones speaks with Minneapolis-based choreographer Chris Schlichting, whose Walker-commissioned piece Stripe Tease will premiere at the Walker February 19–21. You can find the podcast on the Walker Channel. Watching the first iteration […]

Jennifer Davis, Chris Schlichting, and Jeremy Ylvisaker. Photo: Gene Pittman

Jennifer Davis, Chris Schlichting, and Jeremy Ylvisaker. Photo: Gene Pittman

Talk Dance is a podcast series devoted to in-depth conversations with dance artists produced and hosted by local dancer, educator, and commentator Justin Jones. In this installment, Jones speaks with Minneapolis-based choreographer Chris Schlichting, whose Walker-commissioned piece Stripe Tease will premiere at the Walker February 19–21. You can find the podcast on the Walker Channel.

Watching the first iteration of Chris Schlichting’s Stripe Tease at MTM@10: Momentum in the Garden was magical.  As I drove up to the Walker on Hennepin Avenue, I caught a glimpse of something hanging from the trees—like someone had very artfully “teepeed” the sculpture garden.  When I got closer I saw how carefully Chris and visual artist Jennifer Davis had placed each hand-painted butcher-paper streamer.  I loved how the set invited me to dream up and away from the dance and  reminded me to look down at the stage and pay attention!  The weather was summery and amazing (think opposite of February) and the piece, Den Rags, was lush, soft, and at times hypnotic.  After it was over, I loved watching Chris and the cast carefully lower each streamer down from the trees with string.

That first impression of the set, which at first glance it reminded me of a banal high-school prank and then revealed itself as something beautiful, is indicative of my experience of Chris’ work.  As I watch his dances I feel something similar to a concept Chris brought up in our interview earlier this month.  He said, “Kristin Van Loon (of HIJACK) talks about this attraction/repulsion dynamic that really connects with my interests in the form…there are things you find yourself attracted to and then there are things that you’re attracted to but feel kind of gross, and so you’re negotiating those frictions. To me it stirs up questions and keeps me interested.”  Those frictions keep me interested too.

We covered a lot of ground when we spoke: the difficulties of transitioning his work from outdoor stage to proscenium theater; collaborations with Visual Artist Jen Davis and Guitarist/Composer Jeremy Ylvisaker (Alpha Consumer); connections between Chris’ interest in Food and Dance; and Chris’ longtime employment at the University of Minnesota’s Architecture Department.  However, the thing I was most curious to talk about was the sexual content of his work.  It comes to you first in the in the titles of his works (to name a few: Dirty (2006), Love Things (2009), Public Hair (2011), I’m Not Sure What This Wetness Is (2011), and Matching Drapes (2013)).  But it also comes in the slyly suggestive movement vocabulary and the evocative relationships and situations between performers onstage. I wanted to know where this comes from and how he’s thinking about it in the larger context of his work.  Chris spoke eloquently about his interest in “the power and the beauty of these things that we sometimes associate with being somehow dirty […] some people might consider this gross and grotesque but it’s contextualizing it.  These things are also beautiful and these are parts of the human experience.”

Listen to Jones’ entire conversation with Schlichting here

Stripe Tease will have its world premiere in the Walker’s McGuire Theater Thursday–Saturday, February 19–21, 2015 at 8 pm.

Get to Know the Artists Behind Chris Schlichting’s Stripe Tease

Ahead of next Thursday night’s world premiere performance of Minneapolis-based choreographer Chris Schlichting’s Walker-commissioned dance piece Stripe Tease, we asked his collaborators, including visual artist Jennifer Davis and art-rockers Alpha Consumer, to answer a few 8-ball-style questions. The artists discussed their histories with Schlichting, the other projects they’re working on, their favorite hidden spots in the Twin Cities, […]

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Stripe Tease; Photo by Gene Pittman

Ahead of next Thursday night’s world premiere performance of Minneapolis-based choreographer Chris Schlichting’s Walker-commissioned dance piece Stripe Tease, we asked his collaborators, including visual artist Jennifer Davis and art-rockers Alpha Consumer, to answer a few 8-ball-style questions. The artists discussed their histories with Schlichting, the other projects they’re working on, their favorite hidden spots in the Twin Cities, and much more.

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Krista Langberg, Photo: Erin Celeste Westover

Krista Langberg (Dancer)

When or how did you meet Chris ?

At the bus stop on the corner of 62nd and Lyndale

What’s your best kept Twin Cities secret that you don’t mind sharing?

The Lock Up mega self storage on American Blvd

What’s your most vivid memory from childhood?

The La Brea Tar Pits

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Honesty

What have you been reading lately?

The Haynes manual “so you own a volvo…”

What else are you working on?

SHORE with Emily Johnson/Catalyst

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Mike Lewis, Photo: Courtesy the Artist

Mike Lewis (Sound)

Describe Stripe Tease in one sentence or less.

Ever evolving.

When or how did you meet Chris?

Through Jeremy Ylvisaker, before Alpha Consumer performed as a part of his piece for the 25th anniversary of the Sculpture Garden.

What’s your best kept Twin Cities secret that you don’t mind sharing?

Succotash, a small vintage furniture shop in St. Paul.  The owners, Paul and Noreen, are beautiful and welcoming people with a learned and nuanced aesthetic, and prices always seem respectfully balanced between keeping the doors open and building a devoted clientele.

What global issue most excites or angers you?

The slow death of culture, thought, and individuality via corporate monopolization of food, media, and commerce as a whole.

What artist turned your world upside-down as a teenager?

Public Enemy. Mingus. Kubrick.  Rothko.  Jim Henson.

What have you been reading lately?

Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie and The Tao of Physics by Fritjof Capra.

What question do you wish we asked you?

Why do you wear that tape on your nose?

What else are you working on? 

Making time for solitary musical explorations and cooking eggs.

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Lion. Painting by Jennifer Davis

Jennifer Davis (Visual Design)

Describe Stripe Tease in one sentence or less.

I give up. I can’t do it. I just can’t!

When or how did you meet Chris?

I’ve known Chris for 24 years! We went to high school together. We briefly lost touch but were later reacquainted via mutual friends.

What artist turned your world upside-down as a teenager?

Axl Rose =0)

What is one of the most unexpected influences on your art?

Vintage carousel animals.

What’s your most vivid memory from childhood?

Playing for long hours in a weird, partially below-ground, playground built in the ruins of an old barn across the street from the house where I grew up in Jonathan (Chaska), MN. I have only my memories because I can’t find any photos of the place.

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Getting plenty of sleep.

What else are you working on? 

I’m currently working on a series of paintings inspired by an ad for vintage paper mache masks, but after Stripe Tease I’m taking a short break to work on my tan.

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Tristan Koepke, Photo: Steve Niedorf

Tristan Koepke (Dancer)

Describe Stripe Tease in one sentence or less.

Erratic, elegant, hysteric, compulsive, and exquisite hypnosis.

When or how did you meet Chris?

We met casually through the community in 2007, but our relationship became official in 2009 when he mentored a project I created at the University of Minnesota.  I quickly told him that if he was in need of any tall, blond, awkward dancers, I was his guy.

What’s one of your guilty pleasures? 

Writing on bananas with ball-point pens.

What have you been reading lately?

In Bed with Gore Vidal by Tim Teeman

What else are you working on?

I work full-time for Zenon Dance Company. Touring with luciana achugar’s Otro Teatro. I also begin my training at the Rolf Institute of Structural Integration in Boulder, CO in May, 2015!

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Dolo McComb, Photo: Bill Starr

Dolo McComb (Dancer)

Describe Stripe Tease in one sentence or less.

Calculating Cool Cats Coming Constantly Candy

When or how did you meet Chris ?

In June 2014 at the Bryant-Lake Bowl after I danced a little solo for 9×22 Dance/Lab!

What artist turned your world upside-down as a teenager?

John Maus. Still. Every day.

If you could throw a dinner party for anyone in the world, who would you invite?

Charlie Chaplin; my mother.

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

I can only think of patience.

What have you been reading lately?

Steppenwolf  by Herman Hesse

What else are you working on?

I am creating a piece for the Red Eye Theater’s Work-In-Progress Festival this May. Also, working with BodyCartography Project on their work called closer.

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Dustin Maxwell, Photo: Andy Richter

Dustin Maxwell (Dancer)

Describe Stripe Tease in one sentence or less.  

Stripe Tease is a meticulous dance of gestures and short stories.

What artist turned your world upside-down as a teenager?

Eiko and Koma changed my life

What’s one of your guilty pleasures? 

Chocolate…and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

What is one of the most unexpected influences on your art?

New Mexico.

Fill in the blank. What the world needs now is _________________.

Love. No, really, love.

What else are you working on?

I’m also working on Still Life with Morgan Thorson to be performed this summer at the Weisman Art Museum.

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Jeremy Ylvisaker, Photo: Ben Durrant

Jeremy Ylvisaker (Sound)

Describe Stripe Tease in one sentence or less.

Parallels

What is one of the most unexpected influences on your art?

Distraction. It seems if I skate on top of my ideas, I’m less likely to get lost. I have 2 kids and a dog. This helps.

What’s your favorite place to people-watch?

24 hour casino in the middle of the night. I’ve only done it once, but I recommend it.

What is your favorite place in the world?

My cousin’s farm in Norway.

If you could throw a dinner party for anyone in the world, who would you invite?

I think Louis C.K. and Brain May should hang out. I don’t need to be there, but I want credit if they hit it off.

What else are you working on? 

A bunch of solo recordings, Alpha ConsumerGuitar Party, The Suburbs.

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Laura Selle Virtucio, Photo: V. Paul Virtucio

Laura Selle Virtucio (Dancer)

Describe Stripe Tease in one sentence or less.

It is craft and candy.  It is meticulous and precarious. It is arithmetic and heart, clean and broken.

When or how did you meet Chris ? 

Chris and I had a class together at the University of Minnesota in the late 90s.  I remember seeing him swing dance and sing in a punk band around that time too…

What have you been reading lately?

Brown Bear, Brown Bear What Do You See (my son’s favorite book) and I just started Silas Marner by George Elliot

What’s one of your guilty pleasures?

I’ve recently binge watched The Killing and The Fall on Netflix.

What else are you working on? 

Shapiro & Smith Dance at The Cowles Center for Dance, April 2 – 4, 2015.

Max Wirsing

Max Wirsing, Photo: Courtesy the Artist

Max Wirsing (Dancer)

Describe Stripe Tease in one sentence or less.

It’s a dance piece that is almost fractal in its composition– the deeper you look into its details and nuance, the more it reveals.

When or how did you meet Chris?

Chris and I toured Heaven (by Morgan Thorson and Low) together– so many of my memories of Chris are in a long white skirt.

What artist turned your world upside-down as a teenager?

So many to choose from:  Robert Rauschenberg, Felix Gonzalez-Torres, Yayoi Kusama, John Cage, Meg Stuart, Sasha Waltz—though I guess many of those obsessions started in my 20s.  In high school I went through a jazz phase—so Miles Davis, Coltrane and Ella Fitzgerald….and Fauvist painters.

Who is your favorite villain of fiction? Of non-fiction?

Ronald Reagan

If you could throw a dinner party for anyone in the world, who would you invite?

Tilda Swinton, Jeff Koons, Dan Savage, Solange Knowles, my sister Liz, Bjork, Charlie Kaufman, Spike Jonze, Jean Nouvel, Bob Vila, Pema Chodron, Myra Kalman, Malia Obama, and someone who knows how to read tarot cards.  Holy cow, that’d be awesome.

What’s your most vivid memory from childhood?

I once swallowed the entire contents of my sister’s piggy bank.

What else are you working on?

Over the summer I’ll be a part of a performance installation at the Weisman Art Museum that Morgan Thorson is creating. And somewhere over the next year I’ll be working on a solo for the McKnight “Solo” show—choreographer TBD.  I’m also taking a math class right now.

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JT Bates, Photo: Bryan Aaker

JT Bates (Sound)

Describe Stripe Tease in one sentence or less.  

An honest search.

What artist turned your world upside-down as a teenager?

Max Roach.

What’s one of your guilty pleasures? 

Melted cheese.

What is your favorite place in the world?

Oh c’mon, it’s Minneapolis!

What is one of the most unexpected influences on your art?

The opposite of art/opposite of individuality.  Like, the brand new awful condo high rises everywhere.

What else are you working on?  

I’m always working on the Jazz Implosion series.

….

Stripe Tease will be performed in the Walker’s McGuire Theater Thursday–Saturday, February 19–21, 2015 at 8 pm. 

More than the Beat: Choreographers’ Evening 2014

To spark discussion, the Walker invites Twin Cities artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Rae Charles shares her perspective on Choreographers’ Evening 2014. Agree or disagree? Feel […]

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Top photo, left to right: Wealthy Phonseya (INC), Travis Johnson (INC), Blake Nellis, Deneane Richburg, Lisa Berman (INC), Madeline Howie (INC), Taja Will, and Darrius Strong (STRONGmovement). Bottom photo, left to right: Arturo Miles (INC), Renée Copeland (INC), Joseph Tran (INC), Tonya Williams, Cheng Xiong (INC), Deja Stowers, Junauda Petrus, and Canaan Mattson. Not pictured: Kendra Dennard, Aneka McMullen (INC), and Ashley R.T. Yergens. Photo: Gene Pittman

To spark discussion, the Walker invites Twin Cities artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Rae Charles shares her perspective on Choreographers’ Evening 2014. Agree or disagree? Feel free to share your thoughts in comments!

When I heard that beloved artist, educator, and community advocate Kenna-Camara Cottman would be curating this year’s Choreographers’ Evening at the Walker, I knew she had a daunting task ahead of her. For an artist of color to be asked to present their personal aesthetic in such a privileged space, the honor was not without immense responsibility and heavy baggage. I’m sure the curatorial process is never a cakewalk, but for Kenna, this journey had to come with the deep reckoning that any “minority” (POC, differently-abled, Trans, queer, female, etc.) artist has confronted at one time or another: How do I represent myself? How and with whom do I identify?

These questions of representation are in fact universal, but diverse artists will tell you that we pay a special tax. There is the burden of gatekeeping, of tokenism—being that one privileged voice asked to speak for all of your kind. Decision-making becomes bogged down when one honestly faces that they may be the example, the experiment. Will there be another black curator? Will diverse artists have another chance like this to be presented and aesthetically valued?

Let me put this another way:

As a young child growing up in the suburbs of Minneapolis, I was not only the sole black student, but often the only black girl in most of my classrooms and activities. I hated February and any discussion of U.S. history for without fail, the buck would be passed to me. What did I think about slavery? Was my grandmother in the Civil Rights movement? Do all black people laugh like that? What is up with black women and your hair?! And on and on. All heads would spin, eyes stare, and ears open as their inquiry suffocated me in its spotlight. Alternately innocent or offensive, always ignorant, these types of questions haunted me through my college years. The responsibility to be the one voice communicating the diversity of my entire race in white spaces was paralyzing.

You can imagine my relief when I saw that this was not so for Kenna and the artists she chose to present at this year’s Choreographers’ Evening. At the 9:30 pm Choreographer’s Evening performance on November 29, I witnessed 10 choreographers and countless supporting artists refusing to be frozen. Unlike most Choreographers’ Evenings, this year’s evening rode an arc of cohesion as it revealed themes of triumph and defiance. Gone was the disjointed variety show featuring the curator’s “Top 10,” instead was a unified vision making a bold and relevant statement—a feat I attribute to Cottman’s curatorial prowess.

The evening was as timely as it was clear in its statement, forcing the audience to acknowledge the zeitgeist seizing hold of our nation this past week. The grand jury’s failure to indict Darren Wilson for his shooting of unarmed black teen Michael Brown has ignited fervent rage and protesting beyond the city limits of Ferguson, Missouri. A new generation has awoken and arisen all over this country. We are no longer blinded by the promises of a  “post-racial society” or content with what our fore-parents accomplished. There is still work to be done, and we are determined to wail, and shout, and stand until it is finished. A clear takeaway from Saturday’s performance is the importance of artists’ role in this work and their willingness to do it.

Artists are often first responders, the canary in the mines, each singing their own song of alarm. The night’s shining star was a work by Darrius Strong of (Strong Movement) entitled Piece by Piece. Alongside four other dancers, including the powerful and captivating Ashley Akpaka, Strong charges through space summoning a collective spirit as he shows a community in breakdown. Religiously implicit motifs suggests a ceremony of induction as the group shifts between altruistic care for its members and almost cannibalistic violence upon itself, showcasing the best and worst of what happens when we all come together.

Less literal but equally relevant was Significant Nothings, choreographed and performed by Canaan Mattson. Mattson is an entrancing, gooey, and technical mover—able to organically shift through disciplines and seamlessly juggle maintaining the intimacy of his work while still inviting us in to witness the magnificent beauty of a young black man. For the work’s second section, Mattson forgoes recorded music and is joined by vocalist Eric Nordstrom onstage. Nordstrom happens to white, and as he steps on stage in his all black suit the contrast between himself and young Mattson donned in all white, is stark. The visual arithmetic is unavoidable if not intentional and for a moment, my breath caught as I watched these two young men share space and produce creativity rather than destroy life. To behold a young black man, as not dangerous, but beaming in his prime is a lesson our nation needs to learn.

TU Dance’s Kendra Dennard also hits literal high notes in her solo work Dancing With God. While the program notes aptly describe the work as an exploration of the fine line between love and hate, brilliance and calamity, it also resonated with my own experience of the Brown tragedy as young black woman. Brown’s and the countless other shootings in recent years are maddening and heart wrenching, not because I see myself in these men, but because I see my brother, my father, my partner, and I fear for my future sons. There is a loneliness in black women’s sorrow. We are secluded to ourselves but oh so affected. As we lose ourselves to grief, as we isolate ourselves for strength, the threads of ourselves start to fray. This is my own reading of Dennard’s work as she croons and morphs the melodies of Billie Holiday on a stage lit like a cell by a single overhead light. Dennard is beautiful yet tortured as she dances for composure, for relief, for hope—she dances for God to hear us.

From Ashley R.T. Yergens’ sassy Is this more ladylike? to Deneane Richburg’s Quiet As It’s Kept, all of the evening’s artists seemed to share a similar rebellious vision. Shucking cultural expectations, flipping the gaze, and honoring the artist’s civic duty to demand that culture face itself in the mirrors we hold up, this year’s choreographers delivered. An abundance of marginalized artists were given the opportunity to express themselves as so much more than our expectations. With metaphorical megaphones in hand, they spoke up and spoke out—not as tokens or tropes, but as authentic rich, lush, and complex individuals who truly see the world and demand to be seen. For that I say, Bravo! And thank you.

Meet the Artists of Choreographers’ Evening 2014

Curated by Twin Cities choreographer Kenna-Camara Cottman, this year’s edition of Choreographers’ Evening continues the tradition of providing an annual “crash course” on the local dance scene. In a recent interview with City Pages, Cottman expounds on the decision making process that whittled a long list of auditioned acts down to the program of ten choreographers selected for  two […]

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In New Company (INC). Photo: Bfresh Productions

Curated by Twin Cities choreographer Kenna-Camara Cottman, this year’s edition of Choreographers’ Evening continues the tradition of providing an annual “crash course” on the local dance scene. In a recent interview with City Pages, Cottman expounds on the decision making process that whittled a long list of auditioned acts down to the program of ten choreographers selected for  two shows on Saturday night in the McGuire Theater: “I like abstract and really physical things. Things that are clearly dance, but I’m also into weird stuff that has talking or text or different elements.” Noting a “preponderance of blackness” in this year’s program, Cottman emphasizes the importance of providing a platform to artists of color.

On Sunday afternoon, Cottman will also Hold Court in Theaster Gates’s See, Sit, Sup, Sip, Sing: Holding Court installation as a part of the Walker’s ongoing Radical Presence exhibition. She will lead a conversation with Choreographers’ Evening 2014 artists on contemporary dance and its role as an agent of sociopolitical change.

In advance of Saturday night’s performanceswe asked participating artists to share their thoughts on the questions their works pose, the vitality of performance, and the unique qualities of the Twin Cities dance community.

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Deja Stowers. Photo courtesy the artist

Deja Stowers

Original(Some)Body/Virgo

What questions/issues do you address in your work?

Original(Some)Body/Virgo will address the issue of body image and the unreasonable expectations we put on ourselves as Black full figured women. Our bodies are underrepresented on stage. So how are young Black full figured girls supposed to know what is possible? That their bodies can tell a story to the world? That there is sun and beauty radiating from their skin? This piece is also a Rite of Passage for my own body. Like everyone, I have to learn to love my body and everything it has to offer. This piece is one of the many chapters to helping myself heal and create. I am making myself available to be a reflection.

Why do you use performance as a platform for expression?

I use Dance and “performance” because it gives me the freedom to tell a story in my own language. I feel it is the only way to get an accurate view of what is going on in my mind. It’s liberating.

Tonya Williams. Photo courtesy the artist

Tonya Williams. Photo courtesy the artist

Tonya Williams

Slaveship

What questions/issues do you address in your work?

One of the primary issues that I tackle through my work is identity, lack of  triumph, and the absolute power of perseverance. When you consider the African American journey as a whole, it is an ever changing story that lives and thrives with the people. So often our voice goes unheard.  I have been given an amazing gift to allow the boarder public the chance to experiences that cultural voice through vibrant, organic art in motion.   My overall goal is  to increase the cultural and historical  acknowledgement for the African American Journey. I would like for people to take away from my pieces the absolute reality of our story.

What makes the Twin Cities dance scene unique?

It is artistically diverse and always evolving. It is creative place-making at its best.

Why do you use performance as a platform for expression?

At my very core I am a performing artist. There is an overwhelming need to express my artistic perspective.

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Kendra Dennard. Photo: Uchechukwu Iroegbu

Kendra Dennard

Dancing with God

What questions/issues do you address in your work?

This work addresses the dark and complex emotional spaces that we sometimes find ourselves in. Loneliness can be a beautiful gift of relief but it can also be a constricting space with the potential to swallow you whole. It is our freedom and our pain. It can be our space to come to recognize our true selves or run from our true selves. Dancing with God is a glimpse into one woman’s interaction with these ideas.

What makes the Twin Cities dance scene unique?

As a new member of this community I would have to say its vastness, accessibility, and stability are what make it unique. Other than Chicago, NY, and LA, most cities in the US have small communities that either aren’t well funded or don’t have anywhere near as many long-running, stable dance companies and dance centers. From TU Dance to MDT to James Sewell to Zenon, these companies have some of the strongest foundations I’ve ever seen all in one city (The Twins) remaining under the same leadership from their inception. This community is large enough to have its own award ceremony and multiple dance artists to be nominated in each category! I was humbled by the strength and vastness of the dance community at this year’s Sage Awards. All of these things and more make the Twin Cities dance scene very unique to me and very admirable.

Why do you use performance as a platform for expression?

Performing provides me a visceral connection to people. It is not enough for me to simply do a song and dance; I desire to reach people and share my knowledge, wisdom, and life experiences in hopes that someone can look at things a bit differently. Life can certainly become mundane and, these days, overwhelming with shock and sensationalism in ways that render our emotions and interactions with others very one-dimensional. Performance is my way of keeping myself aware and reminding others of the multidimensional nature of humanity.

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Canaan Mattson. Photo: David Melendez

Canaan Mattson

Significant Nothings

What questions/issues do you address in your work?

My piece originally started off as a story of self-refinement, determining ethics, or  finding out a way to better yourself. As the process went on I couldn’t help to know that the topic goes even deeper and it all simply comes down to the act of noticing these good and bad forces that take hold of our thoughts. The piece focuses on different perspectives of this awareness, and how different types of people deal with this refinement.

Why do you use performance as a platform for expression?

Humans have evolved to an oral being that can discern many feelings with the use of language. For me, performance breaks down that barrier of language causing your body  to ultimately say what your mouth cannot. This speech is an intense force as it reaches parts of the brain that deal with interpretation and focus. Movement can be just as strong as words in the articulation of feeling.

AshleyYergens'Cides Unseen (5)

‘cides Unseen (2013) by Ashley R.T. Yergens. Photo: Dean P. Neuburger

Ashley R.T. Yergens

Is this more ladylike?

What questions/issues do you address in your work?

During the fall semester of my senior year at St. Olaf, I conducted an independent study called “Queer Female Body in Dance” with Professor Heather Klopchin. As a movement study, I responded to Joe Goode’s 29 Effeminate Gestures as a way to explore the social construction of gender and sexuality in performance. The study developed into a piece that provides an illuminating, slightly sarcastic look at femininity through gestural material. The gestures aim to deconstruct our own preconceived notions of what it means to be “ladylike” in performance.

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Darrius Strong. Photo: Dani Werner

Darrius Strong

Piece by Piece

Why do you use performance as a platform for expression?

At a young age I was unable to find a way to express myself and speak about my feelings, but over time creating work and performing has given me the tools to physically speak my expressions. Everyday, I witness people who are living day-to-day without thoughts of how society is shaping them. Race, gender, and ethnicity have always been a concern. My question is: Why does it remain a problem? Finding something in common with every race, gender, and ethnicity is a segue into making a change toward this problem. Being born in a predominantly black community in the south side of Chicago, then moving to a mostly white community in the suburbs of Minnesota has helped me find my identity as an African American male in this society. It is hard for me to understand why as people we don’t realize the power within societal norms, and the way in which we as humans use this against one another. I feel that we as individuals need to wake up and realize that unity is the greatest power.

Deneane Richburg. Photo courtesy the artist

Deneane Richburg. Photo courtesy the artist

 Deneane Richburg

Quiet As It’s Kept

What questions/issues do you address in your work?

I am really interested in experiencing substantive connections to my ancestral and cultural history as a means to gain deeper insights into who I am and the present journeys I find myself taking. As a result, my work is centered around experiencing these histories and the narratives that characterize the histories.

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Junauda Petrus. Photo: Valerie Caesar

Junauda Petrus

Black Solitude/Autonomous Wildness

What questions/issues do you address in your work?

In my aerial/dance work I reflect on how black people can experience themselves in the absence of limitless investigation and the self-consciousness of oppression. To be embodied,  and sensually and transcendently so. My whole life, I have seen and psychically responded to black people’s bodies being invisibilized, adored, chewed up, mauled, rubbed, loved, experienced, confused, misrepresented, absorbed, mocked, edified, attacked, desired, politicized, and most essentially commodified in Westernized culture and society. And my whole life I wanted to fly. I explore this journey in Black Solitude/Autonomous Wildness, using corde lisse, aerial rope, an apparatus I choose in part because of the violent and murderous relationship of ropes and black people.  The rope is tough and capable and connects earth to limitlessness. I try not to be too philosophical or academic about it, but visceral and free when I work with the rope. I try to be something transcendent and whimsical. I just focus on the alchemy of letting go, into myself in ways untouchable and inconceivable to the constraints of this society for black people. Today is an interesting time to answer this question. Tamir Rice, 12 years old, was murdered this weekend by Cleveland Police and the Michael Brown verdict is hours from being announced. The weight of  this moment is fascinating and I am in my heart with it.  I think of them and all of the “black bodies swinging” that there have ever been , that need to be known and seen and loved and humanized.

What makes the Twin Cities dance scene unique?

I think people really show love and support. I think it is also experimental and free, in ways that keep me excited and studying. I have gotten to perform in so many amazing pieces and with so many powerful artists. This season alone, I have gotten to co-choreograph with Nicolas Collard an aerial piece for Barebones, performed in a piece by SuperGroup, did a collaboration with photographer and dancer Bill and Kenna Cottman, musician, Lewis Hill III and photographer Kevin Obsatz which we performed on huge screens. I look forward to seeing and learning more of what the dance scene has to offer by way of the performers at CE.

Why do you use performance as a platform for expression?

It assuages my ego, by making me vulnerable and open and bold. It is a beautiful ritual for me. I like to process my life’s journey and offer it to people to ponder with me and also make whatever sense of what I do for their own purposes and pleasure.

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Taja Will and Blake Nellis. Photo: Jim Smith

Taja Will 

Terpsichore Told Us To: 23 Gestures, 11 Poses, 2 Solos and a Duet 

What questions/issues do you address in your work?

We [Taja Will and Blake Nellis] are a collaborative team going on ten years old. Much of our work is rooted in exploring the moving relationships of intimacy and risk within our partnership. Our work is dedicated to exploring spontaneity, agency, instinctive choice-making, and instantaneous choreography. We are improvisers.

Why do you use performance as a platform for expression?

Performance is a means to share embodied research, which I believe facilitates a remembering of the human body’s ability, complexity, and magic.

….

Choreographers’ Evening 2014, curated by Kenna Camara-Cottman, takes place on Saturday, November 29th, at 7 pm and 9:30 pm in the Walker’s McGuire Theater.

Islands of Imagination: Steve Paxton and Lisa Nelson

To spark discussion, the Walker invites local artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Blake Nellis shares his perspective on Steve Paxton and Lisa Nelson’s performance of […]

Photo: Paula Court

Photo: Paula Court

To spark discussion, the Walker invites local artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Blake Nellis shares his perspective on Steve Paxton and Lisa Nelson’s performance of  Night Stand (2004), part of Composing Forward: The Art of Steve Paxton. Agree or disagree? Feel free to share your thoughts in comments!

SPOILER ALERT: This piece will never be the same.  If you saw it last night, you should go again. Keep in mind that what I am about to write happened last night between 7:50pm and 8:57pm (give or take an hour).  It was a time warp in a theatrical jungle filled with wise, old children, living props and movable obstructions for the imagination.  Oh, and they danced.

We line the staircase, buzzing with excitement.  The lobby seems full of people eager to witness something unknown.  What we do know is that we are here to watch Steve Paxton and Lisa Nelson inhabit the McGuire Theater for an eight o’clock show.  And it’s almost eight.  What they will do and how it will look is a mystery to us all, including the veterans of improvisation already on stage.

And so it begins… We enter the theater together, some carrying coats, others still wrapped up tightly to fend off the wintry air they carried in from outside.  We hang our coats and head to our seats.  There is a beautiful lightscape happening on stage.  It’s very dark, but there appears to be a moving constellation spiraling towards us.  The piece has been happening, before we came through the doors and long before we arrived here tonight.  The last few audience members trickle in and a few brave souls wander to the stage to sit (with great alignment) on a few pillows that have been placed in front of the first row.  “Oh cooooool,” I hear a woman next to me say.  I look at her and see that she has just realized that Paxton and Nelson have been on stage the entire time.  The lights fade and the second scene begins (or was that the prelude?)

Nelson is wearing a black and white striped t-shirt, dark pants, dark stocking cap and bright red socks.  She is almost comical, but holding a stick she becomes a serious sort of wizard.  Paxton sports a dark top and bottom with his signature slippers.  He looks a man who has been dancing for more than fifty years and understands how he works (he’s the same age as the Walker Art Center, 75).  The two dancers take in the space and move carefully.  Nelson is nimble, articulate, and spritely.  We ask ourselves, almost audibly, “and how old is she?”  Maybe we have traveled time and space.  They move these carpeted flats around stage, creating new rooms and do-si-do-ing smoothly while we watch and listen. The sound is spacious, even sweet at times.  The invitation to observe is clear and generous.  We see them building something and watching each other, as we watch them. This is a gift.

In this beautiful museum we are watching a living exhibit.  It has an exquisite light design by Carol Mullins which was highlighted during my favorite moment in the piece.  It’s what Nelson calls “an event.”  This is one of the few things that Paxton and Nelson expect to happen during the course of the evening.  Even though it may be apparent from the outside as well, its beauty and play allows us to get lost deeper inside their world.  The sound collage morphs and warps through moments of French, whispering and moaning.  It’s nostalgic and ephemeral but sometimes strange and emotional.  Paxton and Nelson never seem in a hurry to show us any one thing.  (Will they get to that box of tissue and five-gallon pail? Who knows.) Their consciousness shifts like a group of children deciding to play a game.

Night Stand transcends narrative.  It allows us to look in from afar or join them on their islands of imagination.  The demeanor of these two performers inspires exploration and curiosity.  They design playfulness, attention, and friendship.  They infuse just enough weird with the beauty.  Images linger in my mind, during and now.  As they are ending, I feel confident and content.  But how do we know this is the end?  They have taught us how to see again.

AFTERWORD: Nelson and Paxton joined the community for: drinks, questions, compliments, laughter, the usual.  I approached and asked for an autograph.  (What else could I do?!)  But instead of handing over the pen I proposed we make a 60-second drawing together.  They obliged.  Each of us with one hand on the pen, waiting, listening, wondering “what the heck is happening?”  In the end, I have two drawings, one by Steve & me, the other by Lisa & me.  They look like memories of the night I saw Night Stand.

Composing Forward: The Art of Steve Paxton continues tonight, November 22, 2014 with Steve Paxton and Lisa Nelson’s second performance of  Night Stand in the McGuire Theater.

Potential Energy is the Best Kind: Blake Nellis on Bound by Steve Paxton

  To spark discussion, the Walker invites local artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Blake Nellis shares his perspective on Jurij Konjar’s performance of Steve Paxton’s Bound (1982), […]

 

Jurij Konjar in Bound. Photo: Nada Žgank

Jurij Konjar in Bound. Photo: Nada Žgank

To spark discussion, the Walker invites local artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Blake Nellis shares his perspective on Jurij Konjar’s performance of Steve Paxton’s Bound (1982), part of Composing Forward: The Art of Steve Paxton. Agree or disagree? Feel free to share your thoughts in comments!

The piece begins with sound and darkness.  The lights take their time fading up.  And then we can better see the four 2×4’s strewn (or placed intentionally) about the edges of the black floor.  Against the upstage wall there appears to be a rectangular screen covered in camouflage material.  In walks Jurij Konjar, dressed in red tights, white t-shirt, and suspenders holding a cardboard box around his midsection.  He appears to be a tired a superhero from a lesser known comic book.  His face is expressionless, although intriguing and handsome, as he stands motionless for us to look at him.

Konjar begins to unfold his cardboard box revealing flaps covered with camouflage material.  He is careful in transforming his box, but not too careful.  To complete his persona he donnes a vintage pair of sunglasses and black swim cap.  Now, it appears, we are ready for take off.

I wonder “how would Steve dance this if the year was 1982?” as my eyes dart around the black stage finding wood, camo, and a projector being rolled to center stage.  The back wall becomes an optical illusion, almost.  Konjar places himself in front of the screen, virtually disappearing.  The movements here are accurate, specific, and spell-binding.  We know this is being made up.  We understand the power of improvisation.  We are waiting patiently as this dancer points, stretches, and carves the space without giving us too much to digest at once.  He faces away from us so we can see the projection on his white shirt and find his arms extending ever so slightly from those short sleeves.  It’s time for him to move the projector.  He gathers the chord, pushes it off to its resting place stage left and walks diagonally behind the curtain.  We will see the projector again.  And we will see this piece being composed in front of us.  Konjar takes his time, like Paxton always does, to let us guess what might come next.  The potential energy is palpable, even though in the back of our minds we know this could be the Bound climax.

The dancing flirts with gesture, repetition, and surprise.  The dancer searches the space for another place to almost do something.  It is a pleasure to watch him calculate and observe.  He finds a rocking chair and baby cradle, both wooden and slightly creaky.  This becomes a game of sound, rocking with a few swift pushes from his hand.  Audience members begin coughing, clearing throats, even melodious sneezes add to the sound score.  (My partner and I are distracted and shifting in our seats, hoping that the “coughers” will take a breath.) We see nothing fazes Konjar.  He rocks until his heart’s content.  We know he’s on to something.

My favorite part of the work felt like a dancing dream, complete with costume change (Konjar wears all white for the remainder of the show).  The “White Section” has what we hope every dance piece would have: a person on stage inspiring us, dancing in a way that we cannot, or at least we cannot fully predict.  We can follow the dance like we can follow jazz, best if we close our eyes.

Here I take the time to imagine the Paxton/Konjar journey:

shifting dynamics

energy ascending the spine

playing with gravity

being serious with gravity

listening for rests

[                       ]

looking for the end/beginning

Konjar navigates the stage like a firefly trapped in a man’s body.  He jerks and twists and slides across the floor.  I know these sensations.  His physical intelligence is gripping and still mostly filled with potential energy.  Like a young Steve Paxton, Jurij Konjar invites us to see each move for the first time.  His physical orientation is often mysterious and off-balance.  I enjoy watching as his head whips around to see what is behind him.  It seems to surprise him, too, and his body torques and recovers like a fish out of water for just a moment.  All the while, an expressionless face.  [Could his body possibly express even one more thing without his face finally breaking just a little to reveal some inner secret?]  But we keep watching as the sweat soaks through the white t-shirt.

The effort feels generous.  The spine and signature of Paxton, present just enough.  Konjar unravels a spool of twine as he walks backwards and then forwards.  With his swim cap he makes his way to the finish line.  It is beautiful and poetic.  We remember now the unfolding of the cardboard box as we realize we have seen the unfolding of a master’s piece.  A new piece has been made.  Bound (2014).

Composing Forward: The Art of Steve Paxton continues with Steve Paxton and Lisa Nelson’s performance of  Night Stand (2004), Friday–Saturday, November 21–22, 2014 in the McGuire Theater. Writer Blake Nellis is a Twin Cities based dancer, choreographer and educator. This year’s Choreographers’ Evening, curated by Kenna Cottman, will include an improvised work by Nellis and long-time collaborator Taja Will.

Steve Paxton and the Walker: A 50-Year History

Steve Paxton is one of the most radical and influential  American artistic innovators alive. His impact on the field of dance, stretching more than 50 years, has been felt around the world: as a principle dancer for Merce Cunningham in the 60s, a founding member of the legendary Judson Dance Theater (’62-65) and of the […]

Video project with Steve Paxton

Video project with Steve Paxton at MCAD, October 6, 1975, during a residency at the Walker. Courtesy Walker Art Center Archives.

Steve Paxton is one of the most radical and influential  American artistic innovators alive. His impact on the field of dance, stretching more than 50 years, has been felt around the world: as a principle dancer for Merce Cunningham in the 60s, a founding member of the legendary Judson Dance Theater (’62-65) and of the Grand Union collective (1970-76),  and as the inventor of Contact Improvisation (in 1972), a technique now practiced and taught globally. His influence on the current generation of dance and performance artists has been profound particularly in New York and across Europe.

–Philip Bither, Senior Curator of Performing Arts

2014 marks 50 years since Steve Paxton’s first visit to the Walker Art Center. Over the course of the past five decades (and beyond), his influence on and contribution to the postmodern and contemporary dance movements as a dancer, choreographer, and movement innovator runs undeniably deep. Paxton was part of José Limón’s company in 1960, and from 1961 to 1964, he danced for Merce Cunningham. His involvement in both Grand Union and Judson established him as a major figurehead in the dance world. These groups were arguably the most critical influences on the development of postmodern and contemporary dance in the latter half of the twentieth century, relentlessly shattering and reshaping expectations of dance creation and performance. That impact remains prevalent today.

Through residencies and visits to universities with Grand Union, Paxton began developing a technique that emphasized uncensored flow with another body where, as he wrote in an article in 1975, “[e]ach party of the duet freely improvises with an aim to working along the easiest pathways available to their mutually moving masses. These pathways are best perceived when the muscular tone is lightly stretched to extend the limbs, although not to a degree that obscures the sensations of momentum and inertia. Within this flexible framework, the shape, speed, orientation, and personal details of the relationship are left to the dancers who, however, hold to the ideal of active, reflexive, harmonic, spontaneous, mutual forms.”1 He named this technique Contact Improvisation and introduced it to New York in 1972.

Since the 1980s, Paxton has rarely performed, devoting his time to writing, teaching,and leading workshops. For this reason, his visit and performances for Composing Forward: The Art of Steve Paxton at the Walker over the next two weeks are a rare treat. To commemorate the momentous event of his return (after an absence of over sixteen years), I thought I’d share with you some Paxton-related material from the Walker’s archives (click on any image to get a closer look).

1964: Performance with Merce Cunningham Company

Paxton was first presented by the Walker on February 25th, 1964 when he performed with the Merce Cunningham Dance Company (MCDC) at the Guthrie Theatre. This was  MCDC’s second time performing for the Walker, and only a year after the company’s first visit. Most of the dancers who went on to form Grand Union studied with Cunningham. Three had previously danced in his company, including Paxton. In the 1964 performance at the Guthrie, Paxton danced in Story and Antic Meet:

MCDC1964ProgramMCDC1964Program_Reverse

1965: A Judson Residency that was not to be

On July 6th, 1962, Robert Dunn’s dance composition class (which included Yvonne Rainer and Paxton) performed a concert – it was out of this concert that Judson Dance Theater was born. Judson, which derived its name from the church in New York in which the collective performed, continued to produce work over the next two years that challenged the established modern dance tradition of the time. Plans were in place for Judson to complete a residency at the Walker in 1965 but the group dissolved in 1964, before the residency could happen.

1975: Grand Union Residency

The Grand Union collective existed and produced work from 1970 to 1976 and was comprised of experimental and improvisational dance artists. Grand Union evolved in part from Yvonne Rainer’s work Continuous Project-Altered Daily and included many of the dancers and performers who had worked together in the Judson days. Grand Union visited the Walker for a residency in 1971, but Paxton was unable to join because of prior commitments. However, from October 5-10, 1975, Grand Union returned with Paxton to complete another residency which included workshops, solo performances, and group performances at the Guthrie Theater and in the museum lobby. In addition to performances, Paxton led a video workshop with students from Minneapolis College of Art and Design.

GrandUnion1975Program

Below are some notes on possible residency activities with Paxton, also from the 1975 residency with Grand Union (the photo at the beginning of this blog post is from his video project with MCAD students):

PaxtonResidency(GU)notes

Here’s Paxton performing at the Walker, also in 1975:

Steve Paxton with Grand Union, 1975

Steve Paxton during a performance with Grand Union, Walker Art Center Auditorium, October 6, 1975. Courtesy Walker Art Center Archives

After the residency, Paxton wrote a letter to Sue Weil, the Performing Arts Coordinator at the time. Below is Paxton’s hand-written letter, along with Weil’s response:

LetterStevetoSueLetterSuetoSteve

 1980: Jeff Slayton, Lisa Nelson, & Steve Paxton

On June 20, 1980, Paxton, Jeff Slayton, and Lisa Nelson performed works choreographed by Slayton and Viola Farber. Farber was originally supposed to perform but was unable due to an injury. Lisa Nelson has long been an improvisational dancer and she and Paxton have been artistic collaborators since the 1970s. Though they come from different backgrounds in dance, their work together comes naturally. As Brian Seibert wrote in 2013 following the premiere of  Night Stand at Dia:Chelsea Gallery, “Their attunement was so fine that you felt it more when they avoided each other than when they joined in an awkward ballroom dance. A hand proffered and accepted might lead anywhere or nowhere.”

 

PaxtonSlaytonProgram1980

1998: Improvisation Project: Chris Aiken, Steve Paxton, and Friends

In October 1998, then-local Contact Improvisation artist Chris Aiken was joined by other artists in the field: Kirstie Simson (London/Boston), Ka Rustler (Berlin), and Ray Chung (Berkeley, California) for a series of performances at the Southern. This was Paxton’s last visit to the Walker, before his return this week.

Improv project 1980 inside

 

And a photo of Paxton during his 1998 performance:

Improvisation Project, October 24, 1998 with Chris Aiken and Steve Paxton

Steve Paxton in The Improvisation Project, Southern Theater, October 24, 1998. Courtesy Walker Art Center Archives.

2001: White Oak Dance Project

On September 27th, 2001, Paxton’s pieces Satisfyin Lover and Flat were performed as part of PASTforward, a project directed by Mikhail Baryshnikov and written by David Gordon that celebrated the work of some of the Judson Theater artists of the 1960s. Paxton didn’t make an appearance for this performance but Satisfyin Lover was performed by local dancers, and Flat was performed by Baryshnikov himself, making the project “counter-intuitive, even joyously subversive”, as Performing Arts Curator Philip Bither described it in the program notes.

White Oaks 2001

Composing Forward: The Art of Steve Paxton, a mini-festival celebrating the work of Paxton, begins Thursday, November 13, 2014 with Talking Dance with Steve Paxton, which will also include a performance of his piece Smiling (1967) by Kristin Van Loon and Lisa Nelson. Bound (1982) will be performed by Jurij Konjar on Friday, November 14, 2014 and Night Stand (2004) will be performed by Paxton and Nelson on Friday and Saturday, November 21 and 22, 2014. In addition, Paxton and Nelson will each teach a workshop at the Walker on Sunday, November 16, 2014.

Footnotes

1Paxton, Steve. “Contact Improvisation.” The Drama Review 19.1 (1975): 40-42. Print.

Listening Body: Penelope Freeh on Panaibra Gabriel Canda

To spark discussion, the Walker invites local artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Penelope Freeh shares her perspective on Saturday night’s performance of Time […]

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Panaibra Gabriel Canda and Jorge Domingos performing Time and Spaces: The Marrabenta Solos. Photo courtesy MAPP International Productions.

To spark discussion, the Walker invites local artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Penelope Freeh shares her perspective on Saturday night’s performance of Time and Spaces: The Marrabenta Solos by Panaibra Gabriel Candathe second evening of Tales of Home: Congo/Mozambique. Agree or disagree? Feel free to share your thoughts in comments! 

There are stations onstage: a chair and amp on center, three microphones on stands in three corners and costume elements near the middle wing stage right. As the lights fade moments before the piece formally begins, a guitar player lays down near his equipment. Lights up and Panaibra Gabriel Canda, his back to us, speaks Portuguese into a mic, translations projected onto the scrim upstage.

Identity is outlined as a major theme here. With a clever trajectory of verbiage we become entangled in the macro/micro crisscrosses and crosses to bear of Canda’s personal history. He comes from a musician father and dressmaker mother from Mozambique, a country colonized by Portugal, turned communist, turned democratic. It is a confusing story that seems to have forced this contemporary dance and performance artist inward. Out pour guttural stutterings and a body wrestling with itself.

Intimate dances occur, accompanied by the virtuosic musicianship of Jorge Domingos. The two performers are always in counterpoint. Very little needs to be communicated between them in order to be completely on the same page. For a work with a subtitle that contains the word “Solos”, this reads very much as a duet.

Canda’s intelligent body holds many qualities and dynamic ranges. Initially making well-muscled arm gestures that repeat with accompanying text, he moves into more sinuous musings, traversing space. The geography is specific and seems to jump from the stage onto Canda’s very skin. I begin to perceive his body as a map, zones, multi-locations with various topographies. Stomping and gentle tapping accompany flinging arms and tight-fists. Grooves are interrupted and swell into eruption again and again, like water lapping.

A slow and deliberate crawl from upstage to down is my favorite moment, executed with profound coordination. We see the body lower then upright, and it is significant in its changing of planes. The bone and muscle dances begin under the low mic. We are reminded of what’s under the skin (that cannot be rubbed off, no matter how hard he tries). We are left with sweat and breath, a silent musician and a darkening space as we listen hard.

The Boundless Journeys of Faustin Linyekula: Deneane Richburg on Le Cargo

To spark discussion, the Walker invites local artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Deneane Richburg shares her perspective on Friday night’s performance of Le Cargo […]

Faustin Linyekula performing Le Cargo. Photo: Agathe Poupeney

Faustin Linyekula performing Le Cargo. Photo: Agathe Poupeney

To spark discussion, the Walker invites local artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, dance artist Deneane Richburg shares her perspective on Friday night’s performance of Le Cargo by Faustin Linyekula, the first evening of Tales of Home: Congo/Mozambique. Agree or disagree? Feel free to share your thoughts in comments!

Entering carrying Sortir de la Grande Nuit by Achille Mbembe and what appeared to be a traditional Yoruban wooden carved stool/sculpture, Faustin Linyekula begins Le Cargo facing the audience at a microphone, contemplating the benefit (or perhaps lack thereof) his storytelling has on those about whom he tells stories. Also woven into this moment are questions surrounding whether or not he has actually ever danced and the politics of determining what is and is not dance according to the ideology that governs the spaces one inhabits. Considering the geographic spaces he has traversed throughout his life (born in Kisangani in the Democratic Republic of Congo, attending university in Kenya, and presenting his work all over the world including Europe and North America), the civil unrest that sometimes incited these journeys, and his desire to create work that speaks to the complexities of his upbringing and his experiences, as Dr. Brenda Dixon Gottschild comments: “Linyekula writes choreography […] his creations are chock full of compound movement ‘sentences’ that often end in ellipses, parentheses, or semicolons, rather than full stops[…] Linyekula makes sense of the complexities of his heritage by using his fierce intellect to interrogate those conditions onstage and in conversation.”

Linyekula invites the viewer on this boundless journey that has no mile markers and no specific end point. Woven into this experience are stories grappling with his identity, that of his Father, the internal journey that led him to return to the Democratic Republic of Congo, as well as the physical and ideological corners he was/is pressed to inhabit in Kisangani, throughout Africa, Europe, and the United States. Just as he observes the intricacies inherent in the process of defining/identifying, Le Cargo remarks on the complexities of being via Linyekula’s sophisticated and layered use of space, lighting, storytelling, and movement. The stage is divided into three “regions,” the first is a downstage center area where he places the wooden stool/sculpture, the Mbembe text, and a microphone. In this space he addresses the audience engaging in a very familiar proscenium, performer-audience relationship. This relationship is in contrast to those in the other spaces of the stage. Upstage left are two footlights that, when illuminated, create a corridor of light emanating on a downstage right diagonal. The presence of two footlights and a strong yet narrow path of light create the feeling of introspection and a solitary tension which is reflected in the frenetic feel of the movement he performs in this area. Finally, stage right are a grouping of footlights arranged in a circle; the circle representing a place of togetherness/community/not being alone. As a result of the circular placement of the lights (on the floor lining the circle) each time he enters into the circle, two shadows appear on the back scrim creating the feel and image of two additional ghostly bodies moving in the space together with him. Throughout the work he walks along the circle of these footlights making careful decisions of when to enter the circle and when to remain along its perimeter. The presence of the circle and the manner in which he moves outside and inside of it seem to illustrate the ideal this symbol represents while acknowledging its placement as simply an ideal; not necessarily a reality. Throughout the work it seems in some ways Linyekula’s physical, and perhaps intellectual and emotional travels mirror his journeys on stage between these three spaces.

My personal insights as a result of a question asked 

After sheepishly raising my hand to ask the first question of the post-performance discussion, I realized I’d been trying to find the overall narrative of his work. Soon after asking this question I realized Le Cargo invites witnesses to compile and organize the primary messaging of the work themselves. This is not a work characterized by a linear narrative; instead it invites viewers to uncover their own point of entry—one where they witness emotional/intellectual/spiritual challenges enshrouded in the beauty of a viscerally engaging movement experience.

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