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Talk Dance: Momentum 2015

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 Hiponymous, Angharad Davies, and Nic Lincoln, whose works will premiere in Momentum: New Dance Works July 9-18, 2015 at the Southern Theater.  You can find the podcasts […]

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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 Hiponymous, Angharad Davies, and Nic Lincoln, whose works will premiere in Momentum: New Dance Works July 9-18, 2015 at the Southern Theater.  You can find the podcasts on the Walker Channel 

Momentum: New Dance Works is a big deal.  Many emerging choreographers apply and a panel reviews and selects just 4 applicants to participate.  If your work is chosen, three major performance venues (Cowles Center for Dance/ Southern Theater/ Walker Art Center) and one major funding organization (Jerome Foundation) enthusiastically support your work with time, space, money, expertise, production, feedback, career development opportunities, and publicity.  Many choreographers who’ve come through Momentum have gone on to become major voices in the dance community locally and nationally.  When interviewing the Momentum choreographers about their upcoming shows I asked them what being a part of the program means to them.

Angharad Davies: “I just feel really so excited that I was invited to be a part of this, the support has been great. I’ve been making this work since I got here and to get Momentum was kind of a big deal because it felt like the support for my aesthetic or my artistic vision was there, and I feel really excited and proud that I’m part of this group.”

Hiponymous (Evie Muench and Renée Copeland):  “It means that we got a place to do this project idea that we had in our brains, that I don’t think would have been produced at the scale that it is going to be produced for this show…I was really trying to figure out how we would have done this piece had we not gotten this grant. It’s an incredible opportunity… and we took it!”

Nic Lincoln:  “I view Momentum as being a stepping stone. I really like the idea of being pushed forward.  This process, with all the feedback, has pushed me.  In the last couple years, I’ve been able to work on shedding any kind of ego that has to relate to my work so I can actually take in the corrections or feedback I’m getting.  I believe that because of that process, that’s part of the reason why the work is so strong.”

Interviewing these artists about their upcoming shows at the Southern Theater was great fun.  What was most exciting to me was learning that each of the artists are exploring new territory in their work.  Hiponymous expanded their collaboration to include two composers, a costume designer and a host of voice actors.  Nic Lincoln is creating his first choreography for an all male cast, and Angharad Davies is making a dance that is more, “internally driven and focused” than her previous work.

Making new work for an opportunity that is as big a deal as Momentum is, it might be easy to “do what you know.”  I commend the choreographers for going beyond and taking the generous support of the Cowles, Jerome, the Southern, and the Walker to explore new territory.   If you missed the first weekend, go now and get your tickets for week two.

Momentum: New Dance Works 2015 continues this Thursday through Saturday, July 16-18, at the Southern Theater.

In the Dark in 5… Megan Mayer on Momentum Week 1

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, choreographer Megan Mayer shares her perspective on State of the […]

Hiponymous (Renée Copeland and Genevieve Muench). Photo: Gene Pittman

Hiponymous (Renée Copeland and Genevieve Muench). 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, choreographer Megan Mayer shares her perspective on State of the Moon Address by Hiponymous and Broken by Luke Olson-Elm. Agree or disagree? Feel free to share your thoughts in comments!

Momentum: New Dance Works Festival! This series is one of my favorites, as it generously funds dancemakers venturing into new territories, cushioned by institutional support and a whole team of folks rooting for them and their work. I was thinking about how related yet distinct the skill sets of choreography and dance are; so I feel it’s important to note that in addition to directing these original dances, the choreographers featured in the first weekend of the festival gave stellar performances as dancers in their own work. If you don’t already know how challenging it is to be at once inside a work while keeping a fresh outside eye on its development, please trust that it requires extreme rigor and selflessness. Congratulations to these artists on multiple jobs well done.

Hiponymous’ set consisted of a green astroturf mound (reminding me simultaneously of the Nutcracker’s Mother Ginger, a golf course, Teletubbies, and the construction of the new I-can’t-see-downtown-anymore Minneapolis stadium), set up against one side of the Southern Theater’s arch. A lichen mini-mound adhered itself to the opposite side.

State of the Moon Address begins with a brief applause loop, serving as a preemptive favor on the audience’s behalf (more on this bit later). Evy Muench emerges on the side of the stage, shivering off a silvery tether as Renee Copeland shoots out from under the mound, and the two tilt-a-whirl and frantically spin around one another until connecting, and soften into a koala embrace. The pair scouted and explored their apparently new, foreign surroundings, working well as a team, using each other’s limbs, joints and kneepads as legos to build and compound strength and range. They seemed to be researching and building a language using the body and movement phrases to interpret their findings. The choreography was dense with clever, gestural material: a quick listening to the ground, scratching twitches, precise hands near the face, forearms sticking to the ground as if they were magnetized in a curious manner, bent forward at the waist and traversing backwards on deliberately placed hands and feet in unison, laying on their sides with their backs to us in quivering lumps.

The work’s tone fluctuated in and out of concern and anxiety. At times the choreography seemed too buoyant to be troubling in the way that seemed to interest them; leaps were at odds with the implied danger that was supposedly tethering them. The intriguing way they hung their heads, revealing only the crown to the audience, while slowly wheeling the light stands across the space, as a janitor pushes a mop bucket down a deserted hallway at night, was in stark contrast to the frontal eye contact held at other times. Their faces, side-lit by Heidi Eckwall’s evocative design during a stationary section, echoed the solitary, vulnerable time one waits in a doctor’s office on the exam table. During a slick commercial portion of the soundscore, they were able to morph their expressions in a matter of seconds: I saw Jane Fonda’s Barbarella’s confident stare, the spasmic grin of Max Headroom, Betty Boop’s smooshy pout and, Wile E Coyote’s predatory sideways glance.

After a quick blackout, the lights came up to reveal them holding large, shiny, silver gardening tools. They didn’t so much use the tools as animate them; Evy reluctantly overextended her arms and pretended to groom the astroturf mound and Renee slowly grazed the rake along her leg without actually touching the skin. Was this commentary on our culture’s disdain for women’s body hair? Or a reference to Bruce Dern’s gardener in Silent Running? The tools’ performance was short-lived.

The dominating soundscore overpowered the dance at times. There were moments when cacophony was the clear intention; there were others when the vibration was so loud I couldn’t distinguish the words and I missed hearing key clues. A few times the sound cues were late for the movement (the antennae section in particular). I questioned the choice of an initial authoritative male voiceover; it seemed to undercut the specific female strength that the performers had established with their movement. Overall I wanted more stillness, more time to settle in with these strong performers.

The piece “ended” when the stage crew walked on stiffly and immediately began dismantling the astroturf mound as Renee and Evy began a fast, tightly woven partnering section of winding torsos and furious legwork, twisting and careening their way upstage. The house lights came up and the audience shuffled in their seats. The sound bumped off early which was odd but that’s when the stage action of the strike crew got more interesting: I felt they dropped their “we had to be talked into this surprise fake ending but now that’s over and we’re really getting some shit done” personae and seemed less self-conscious, their bodies calmer and more at ease. I could also hear the drill, which helped me appreciate the work that went into the set. We didn’t get to applaud for the performers, but I grinned, remembering how they’d already snuck that in for us back at the beginning. After the mound had been completely removed I was hoping to catch one more glimpse of Hiponymous to know that they’d been just out of our sight this entire time, still spinning wildly and intricately working their way into the ether, but they were gone.

Luke Olson-Elm. Photo: Gene Pittman

Luke Olson-Elm. Photo: Gene Pittman

Luke Olson-Elm’s Broken started before it began by filling the space with a golden haze that accentuated the brick and rough texture of the Southern’s walls and invited my eye upwards. The lighting by Heidi Eckwall was gorgeous: expansive, raw, intimate with a dusty, dystopian edge and served the choreography well. The dance began with a row of downstage spotlights. The dancers walked dramatically in and out of the delineations on the floor and took turns showcasing in the spots. The movement material was a mostly frontal, aggressive mix of isolations, supple torsos, and articulate limbs with a hard edge. The choreography moved the dancers in diagonal pathways, fluidly finding the floor, falling in and out of unison to reveal solos and forming trios and duets.

The dancers were all tenacious and accomplished but I felt little connection among them as a group and didn’t learn much of anything about them as individual dancers. I’m not sure if this was a directorial choice or a missed opportunity. My eyes kept landing on Luke. You can always pick out the choreographer if they are one of the dancers because the material reads more clearly on their body. He owns this movement, it’s from within, and it pours out of him like water. I noticed his humility, his choice to not put himself center stage, to generously give the limelight to the other dancers, but he was ultimately the reluctant star of this piece. His performance was imbued with a grief not shared by the others and internalized in an intriguing way. His head bobbed at the neck, his hands reaching but never quite grasping, his eyes cast downward for much of the piece. Leaning against the archway under a light, his head hanging, I thought of Robert DeNiro’s Travis Bickle, broken in his own way. Luke has a curious, evocative way of articulating his hands, implying that whatever he tries to touch has already dissolved.

The soundscore was percussive, aggressive, repetitive, electronic, machinic. A factory with bits similar to the Six Million Dollar Man bionic jumping sound peppered throughout. Audible breath cues among the dancers were superfluous when the music provided a structure. At times the partnered lifts with pointed toes and outstretched limbs seemed incongruous with the rest of the material and the soundscore; virtuosity for virtuosity’s sake was not a viable currency in the world he had created.

Towards the end Luke used the spotlights in a clever way by walking straight across and through all of the spots. I then thought of him as a sort of ghost, someone who lives in-between alongside the grief and fading memories which broke my heart a little as it was such a successful way to express displacement/isolation/loss. This was a delicate, haunting image and I thought the piece could have ended there. 2 other dancers eventually walked through the spots in the same way which lessened the impact of the image for me. In the program notes Luke mentions that he’s not sure why he’s inspired by themes of community and identity. I don’t know if his intention was to isolate himself from the rest of the cast, but I found that to be the most interesting aspect.

Megan Mayer is performing this weekend in The Scraps by Angharad Davies as part of Momentum: New Dance Works 2015, Thursday through Saturday, July 16-18, at the Southern Theater.

Choreographers’ Evening 2015 Auditions Announcement!

The Walker Art Center and Guest Curator Justin Jones are seeking choreographers to be presented as part of the 43rd Annual Choreographers’ Evening. All forms of dance are welcome! Justin Jones is a widely respected local dancer/choreographer/sound designer/teacher and all-around innovator. For this year’s showcase, Jones is drawing on his experience working with dancers of […]

Photo: Gene Pittman

Photo: Gene Pittman

The Walker Art Center and Guest Curator Justin Jones are seeking choreographers to be presented as part of the 43rd Annual Choreographers’ Evening. All forms of dance are welcome!

Justin Jones is a widely respected local dancer/choreographer/sound designer/teacher and all-around innovator. For this year’s showcase, Jones is drawing on his experience working with dancers of all ages and all abilities. Auditions are open to all artists utilizing the performance medium, trained and untrained, who use space, time, and the body to take risks and explore their ideas. Jones elaborates:

I believe that the infinite complexities of physical expression belong not just to the specially trained and professionally experienced. In my work with young people, I have seen incredible dances made and performed by 7 year old students. So, my curatorial position is, everyone is welcome, Every Body is welcome. If it’s your first dance, or your 100th, please come and share it, I can’t wait to see it.

Choreographers’ Evening will take place on Saturday, November 28, 2015 at 7:00pm and 9:30pm. If your piece is selected, you must be available the week of November 23rd (excluding Thanksgiving), as well as from noon through the performances on Saturday, November 28, 2015.

Audition Information:

WHERE:    The Walker’s McGuire Theater, 1750 Hennepin Ave, Mpls 55403

WHEN:      Wednesday, August 5 from 6–10pm

     Friday, August 7 from 2–6pm

     Saturday, August 8 from 12noon–4pm.

– You will receive a call or email confirming your time slot

– Auditions are in 10 minute intervals

– Pieces are usually 3-6 minutes in length and may not exceed 7 minutes

– DVD submissions are accepted, although live performance is preferred

– Works in progress are accepted

– Choreographers must live in Minnesota

For more information and to schedule an audition, please email performingarts@walkerart.org or call the Walker at 612.375.7550.

Additional questions may be directed to Anat Shinar at anat.shinar@walkerart.org

Dance in the Future: Emmanuel Iduma on Danspace Project’s Platform 2015

As the Walker’s senior curator of Performing Arts, I have followed with great interest Danspace Project’s distinctive curatorial approach to building dance/research Platforms. These rich—and, at times, provocative—multi-week guest-curated structures mix dance presentations, discussions, and related events centered around a single curatorial inquiry and accompanied by a print catalogue. In a few short years, the Platform […]

Emily Coates, Yvonne Rainer's Trio A, Part 1 Workshop. Danspace Project, March 13, 2015. Photo: Ian Douglas

Emily Coates, Yvonne Rainer’s Trio A, Part 1 Workshop. Danspace Project, March 13, 2015. Photo: Ian Douglas

As the Walker’s senior curator of Performing Arts, I have followed with great interest Danspace Project’s distinctive curatorial approach to building dance/research Platforms. These rich—and, at times, provocative—multi-week guest-curated structures mix dance presentations, discussions, and related events centered around a single curatorial inquiry and accompanied by a print catalogue. In a few short years, the Platform series has added such vitality and spirit, scholarship and debate to the dance scene of New York City, which despite its challenges, continues to be the urban nexus of movement art and critical discourse in the United States. Two longtime colleagues I respect greatly, Judy Hussie-Taylor (Danspace’s executive director and instigator of its Platform structure) and poet, critic, and now curator Claudia La Rocco, teamed up to create the ninth installment of the series, Platform 2015: Dancers, Buildings and People in the Streets, which ran from February 14 to March 28, 2015. La Rocco’s sources of inspiration for her Platform were the writings of Edwin Denby and the poet-as-critic tradition; the overlapping dance lineages of George Balanchine, Merce Cunningham, and Judson Dance Theater; and the ways these traditions are relevant today. While I was so pleased to attend the kick-off event—a memorable evening of Denby-inspired readings, hosted by La Rocco and featuring a number of great poets (and a few dancers)—I was not able to return for the rest of the series.  Instead, I got the next best thing: written reflections from this Platform’s writer–in-residence, Emmanuel Iduma, one of which we are lucky enough (thanks to Claudia and our friends at Danspace Project), to share with you below, in a post exclusive to the Walker website.

—Philip Bither, Senior Curator of Performing Arts

. . . . .

I remember glancing repeatedly at Yvonne Rainer while she watched one of the Dance Dialogues at Danspace Project’s ongoing Platform. She had a notebook open on her lap, which she occasionally wrote in, leaving what seemed to me like giant scrawls. It struck me that each note-taking was preceded by a confirmatory nod. But since I could only see her through the corner of my eyes, her notes might have contradicted her gestures. I do not recall seeing her smile, although audience members were sometimes upbeat and sanguine—she might have, when I wasn’t watching. She seemed at once serious and dedicated to her seriousness. In her manner of observation, in the repeated nods and scribbling, she became one who scrutinized appearances within a stage or outside it.

I imagine from afar. I reflect on the workshops I have observed—Adrian Daching-Waring on Cunningham technique and composition, Kaitlyn Gilliland on Balanchine’s Serenade, and Emily Coates on Yvonne Rainer’s Trio A—aware of a distance created by non-participation. Amateurs (like me) could benefit from an opportunity to be taught a dance that would never be presented before a live audience. Yet I maintain a distance in order to write about what I observe. It’s a posture of criticality: but this could fail me. Is the mind put to work by the body? Are there insights I have missed by the stiffness of my muscle?

Each workshop, like a story without plot, could unfold as an occurrence with manifold motions. While Emily Coates taught hers, she said, “I’m going to talk you through the dance.” But the responses to this, during the course of three hours, were various attempts to subvert the difficulty and rigor of Trio A. I remember a black woman. When she spoke, her accent was as thick as mine. When there was a pause, I noticed she was dancing to something else, perhaps a song she recalled suddenly. She saw me looking, and then we smiled as if we had shared the same thoughts: the workshop brought to mind extraneous rhythms, other forms of grace.

One woman complained of dizziness. Coates responded, “It will start to get better as it gets into your body.” “Maybe,” the woman replied. Echoing Rainer, Coates emphasized a rigor of minds as well as bodies. In 1966, The Mind is a Muscle was the title of the series of dances Trio A was included in. “If you stare at anyone watching,” the dancers were told, “you are wrong. It is important to know where your gaze is at every moment.” As they progressed in learning the dance, they were asked to stand with their sides to the audience, and were taught moves that required gazing to the ceiling, towards clasped palms, and with closed eyes.

These motions, with certain variations, have been repeated since 1966 by dancers and non-dancers alike. There were up to 22 dancers being taught by Coates at St. Mark’s Church. They had been asked to sign waivers, following an instruction by Rainer, in order to control the proliferation of Trio A. On many occasions, we were told, she had the videos of the performance taken down from YouTube. In the intervening time between its first and subsequent iterations, certain motions might have been altered. The present form of the dance is one chiseled to specificity. New dancers would learn to add their individual flourishes, building on their instructor’s muscle memory. I am not inclined to believe Rainer gives a handful of people license to teach Trio A because of an overprotective instinct, nor from an obsession with a scrupulous performance. But a question: how does the passage of time affect the marriage of mind and muscle?

Each workshop in Platform 2015 wrestled with the evolution of the dance being taught. A performance, unlike a photograph, has a less tenuous relationship with its original. Those who argue, for instance, that today’s Serenade is infused with newer variations, hold on to a vision of how the ballet was performed before Balanchine’s death. Yet a performance is not a reproducible object. It has a being, and this suggests a movement toward mastery, as well as meaning. The three workshop tutors confessed to a renewed love for the dances they taught.

One of the first things Emily Coates said to the workshop class was: “I’m expecting.” A congratulatory cheer followed, her pregnancy already beginning to show. When Trio A required the dancer to lie with the belly on the floor, she simply sat, talking others through the motion. There was an unborn child in the room, feeling its mother teach a dance, dancing in the future.

Read more of Emmanuel Iduma’s reflections on Platform 2015 on Danspace Project’s Tumblr.

Conceptual People-Dance: Penelope Freeh on Tere O’Connor’s BLEED

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 Tere O’Connor’s BLEED. Agree or […]

Photo: Paula Court

Photo: Paula Court

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 Tere O’Connor’s BLEED. Agree or disagree? Feel free to share your thoughts in comments! 

BLEED, Tere O’Connor’s newest work, an amalgamation of sorts of three other dances, sits well with me. About halfway through the work I remembered that this was the concept and then several mysteries were solved, for example, the austerity and import of many of the transitions. They seemed particularly loaded: introducing new dancers, breaking with the action and walking to a new location, building to a sentimental embrace, then journeying away into another choreographic land. Some of the costumes felt initially incongruous but then strangely cogent as the dance transpired. Remembering this notion of bleeding three dances into a fourth makes sense (not that I need it to make sense, but it’s satisfying to solve a mystery) and I dive deeper as a result.

BLEED begins with a woman in a green dress undulating, swirling almost, but not quite. Her balance is caught then abandoned, a constancy of the body catching up with itself. There is a quartet of onlookers who soon move into the frame. A quintet commences and I am reminded of court dancing, the roots of ballet, with handholds and tippy contortions that remain just upright enough to prioritize the vertical. Certainly the soundscape influences me here, composed and designed by James Baker, evoking the baroque.

More dancers enter and I am surprised. This is one of those previously alluded to mysteries that unto itself is jarring, but in the context of the concept makes perfect sense. There are eleven dancers total, a satisfying number. The stage feels very populated, and it is fascinating to see the many and varied stage pictures evolve with so many bodies.

There are many classical values amid the post modern: symmetry, awareness of front, a formal quality to much of the movement, all of which render outlier moments, like when all the dancers verbally shudder and stagger apart, more potent.

O’Connor is a dance-maker on the edge of discovery, investigating his own dances and previous choices to unearth something new. In the new are movements from those previous works but also subtle evocations, loaded embraces, powerful stillnesses (near the end, the dancers were in dynamic yet grounded poses holding hands in a giant s curve), and especially deliberate transitions. He is trying to reveal the negative and I see it in the mist, like Brigadoon.

The investment of these dancers is profound. They seem to reside simultaneously in the worlds of the previous dances and in this new terrain. Meaning is carried through, gathering mass like a snowball rolling downhill. This particular dance seems to be less about investigative movement than process. The vocabulary feels spare, complicating in terms of many bodies rather than in one individual. It is readable, then blurry, then discernible again.

The concept is a rich one and O’Connor’s touch is just right, just Midas enough. For me, it could have gone on longer. It takes awhile to get to know these wonderful people dancing, and just when I had my bearings, blackout.

BLEED continues in the Walker’s McGuire Theater tonight (Friday, March 20, 8 pm) and tomorrow (Saturday, March 20, 8 pm). Tere O’Connor will also teach a Master Class at the Walker on March 21 at 11 am. 

Meet the Dancers of Tere O’Connor’s BLEED

BLEED, an innovate work by Tere O’Connor, features eleven dancers at the forefront of New York’s contemporary dance scene. All are esteemed choreographers in their own right and involved in cross-disciplinary collaborations with visual artists, photographers, musicians, and other performing artists. Foregrounding the unique contributions of each artist provides a glimpse into the playful synchronicity that O’Connor achieves in BLEED. […]

Tere O'Connor's BLEED Photo: Paula Court

Tere O’Connor’s BLEED. Photo: Paula Court

BLEED, an innovate work by Tere O’Connor, features eleven dancers at the forefront of New York’s contemporary dance scene. All are esteemed choreographers in their own right and involved in cross-disciplinary collaborations with visual artists, photographers, musicians, and other performing artists. Foregrounding the unique contributions of each artist provides a glimpse into the playful synchronicity that O’Connor achieves in BLEED. Read on to learn more about each of the dancers in advance of seeing the performance at the Walker (Thursday-Saturday, March 19-21, 2015 at 8pm in the McGuire Theater).

Tess Dworman

Tess Dworman Photo: Simon Courchel

Tess Dworman. Photo: Simon Courchel

Tess Dworman is a Brooklyn-based choreographer who has produced work and performed in both traditional theaters and non-traditional venues, including galleries and apartments in Chicago and New York. Movement Research presented her recent choreographic collaboration with Laura Atwell, Stay at Home Prism, in September 2014.

As with many of Dworman’s dances, props are a key element in this piece. Dworman and Atwell begin by running around the stage with long wooden planks extending out of their sleeves as arms. They kick a transparent, inflatable sofa back and forth to each other. The two dancers sit together on the sofa and have a conversation using only their hands. Dworman’s interpretation of everyday gestures in her own work resonates with Tere O’Connor’s continued exploration of gesture through movement.

devynn emory

devynnemoryByTHEYbklyn

devynn emory. Photo: THEY bklyn

devynn emory’s company, devynnemory/beastproductions, has presented performance work at venues such as Danspace Project, Movement Research, and Philadelphia Live Arts Festival. emory has received grants and residencies and spoken on panels about their dance-making process and how it is influenced by cultural and gender identity. In emory’s own words: “i want performance to insist on another version of reality. i want to contribute to a queering of a performance aesthetic that invites a closer relationship to the ways we actually see and experience the world. i want to not only move from a queer lineage of resistance and outrage–i also want to, as a mixed-race native american person, welcome this queer movement on staged ground with peace and persistence.”

The artist recently presented an evening-length work, This room this braid, at the Actors Fund in Brooklyn, a project that developed from a year-long residency at Issue Project Room and received funding from a successful Kickstarter campaign. emory, who overcame severe dyslexia, creates works that playfully navigate issues of order, perfection, and formalism. This willingness to take creative risks makes emory a natural fit for Tere O’Connor’s ensemble.

Natalie Green

Natalie Green Photo: Courtesy the Artist

Natalie Green. Photo: Courtesy the Artist

Natalie Green’s work has been presented by Dance Theater Workshop, Danspace Workshop, and Movement Research at the Judson Church, among others. Her first evening-length work, I’m building a shrine., was created as the result of personal research and a collaborative rehearsal process with the dancers, performed at the Chocolate Factory Theater in 2013.

Describing how the dance came out of her recent life experience, Green said, “I started to feel like all I wanted to do was bury objects in the earth to try to make peace, to let go. More recently I’ve realized I want to build a shrine, abstractly and kinetically. I want to honor, adorn, love, and then burn a version of my life. This dance is a way to both build and shed, harness and destroy.” In the work, she invited audience members to select from a host of occult items, among them bone fragments and voodoo dolls, for use in her shrine. This attention to ritual finds resonance with O’Connor’s vocabulary, one comprised of “gestures both ordinary and obsessive” (The New York Times).

Ryan Kelly

Ryan Kelly Photo: Courtesy the Artist

Ryan Kelly. Photo: Courtesy the Artist

Ryan Kelly has been working collaboratively with Brennan Gerard for the past decade within their interdisciplinary visual and performing arts organization, Moving Theater. Their most recent project, P.O.L.E. (People, Objects, Language, Exchange), created in residency at the New Museum, transformed the museum’s fifth floor into a laboratory for movement research about cultures and pole dancing.

Hyperallergic called Gerard and Kelly’s project “politicized pole dancing,” discussing the artists’ goal of providing a space for both experienced and inexperienced dancers to play and explore. They worked with two dance crews that had frequented their open, pay-by-donation sessions at the New Museum to incorporate the political language of the Black Lives Matter movement. As Vic Vaiana explained, “many members of the participating dance crews have had run-ins with the police while performing on the subway, influencing the narratives told during their performances”.

Michael Ingle

Michael Ingle Photo: Courtesy the Artist

Michael Ingle. Photo: Courtesy the Artist

New York-based performer and choreographer Michael Ingle focuses on creating site-specific works in and around the community with his company, Michael and the Go-Getters. Ingle says he is drawn to “challenges, contradictions, wide-open spaces, and also trees.”

In addition to performing in Tere O’Connor’s BLEED, Ingle performed in O’Connor’s Cover Boy (2011) and Undersweet (2014), a duet performed by Ingle and Silas Reiner, most recently at American Realness. Ingle also collaborates with Megan Sprenger and performs with other nationally-renowned companies.

Oisín Monaghan

Oisin Monaghan Photo: Courtesy the Artist

Oisin Monaghan. Photo: Courtesy the Artist

Oisín Monaghan’s recent collaborations with visual and performing artists have included performing in Xavier Le Roy’s Retrospective exhibition at MoMA PS1. He has been featured in the photography of Job Piston as well as in fashion photographer Kenneth Willardt’s 2014 The Beauty Book. Monaghan performed in the cast of the film As Rosas Brancas, which premiered at the 2014 Berlin International Film Festival. He has presented work with visual artists at such venues as the Chelsea Hotel and Deitch Projects.

Cynthia Oliver

Cynthia Oliver Photo: Valerie Oliveros

Cynthia Oliver. Photo: Valerie Oliveros

Cynthia Oliver is a Professor of Dance at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign. Along with her teaching, she runs her own dance theatre company called Cynthia Oliver Co., which creates performances that incorporate spoken word, dance, and sound, infused with Caribbean, African, and American influences. Oliver’s book, Queen of the Virgins: Pageantry and Black Womanhood in the Caribbean, looks at the tradition of beauty pageants as a lens through which to understand the culture of the islands where she grew up.

Oliver finds inspiration in “the spaces between appropriate and inappropriate behaviors.” The New York Times reviewed her Ruptured Calypso performance, calling it a “riotously beautiful art of winding, powerful, erotically charged rhythmic dance.”

Heather Olson

Heather Olson Photo: Ian Douglas

Heather Olson. Photo: Ian Douglas

Heather Olson has won Bessie Awards for her performance of Tere O’Connor’s work in addition to her work in Yanira Castro’s video and performance installation at the Gershwin Hotel, Dark Horse/Black Forest. Olson’s own choreography has been commissioned by venues such as Dance Theater Workshop and The Chocolate Factory Theater, where she performed her much-lauded Shy Showoff.  As the New York Times said of Olson, “You could say she’s a deer caught in the stage lights, if the idiom connoted animal alertness rather than dumb paralysis. This deer has some De Niro in her: You lookin’ at me?”

One of Olson’s most personal and experimental works was her collaboration with Yanira Castro on a video installation project resulting from five years of work creating movement material. The movement in this solo was used as the basis for Castro’s The People to Come, during which the other performers created solo works based on Olson’s dance and contributions from the audience. The four-hour performance was comprised of new solo works that were created on stage using web-based responses from the audience and the general public to three requests (“give us a pattern; give us a portrait; give us a task”).” The website exists now as an archive of these audience contributions and the performances created from them.

Mary Read

Mary Read Photo: Courtesy the Artist

Mary Read. Photo: Courtesy the Artist

Mary Read’s diverse educational background – spanning dance, masked theater, and psychoanalysis – emanates from her performances. She connects deeply with the intention of a work, as demonstrated through the New York Times‘ assessment of her performance in O’Connor’s Secret Mary, “Her hands betrayed a slight tremor, her big eyes on the verge of welling with tears. As she fluttered a hand, or stretched one arm almost out of its socket, this effort to dominate with her own body evoked a great internal struggle.”

In addition to working with O’Connor, Read has performed with Vanessa Anspaugh, Hilary Clark, Lily Gold, Molly Poerstel, Katy Pyle, Jen Rosenblit, Jacob Slominski, Larissa Velez, and Enrico Wey.

Silas Riener

Silas Riener Photo: Ian Douglas

Silas Riener. Photo: Ian Douglas

Silas Riener’s accomplishments include a 2012 Bessie Award for his performance in Merce Cunningham’s Split Sides, a collaboration with Harrison Atelier design firm on an installation and performance featuring Riener’s choreography at the Storefront for Art and Architecture, and an ongoing creative partnership with former Merce Cunningham Dance Company dancer Rashaun Mitchell to make dances, site-specific installations, and immersive viewing experiences of performance.

The pair was featured in Dance Magazine’s “25 to Watch in 2013,” and a short video introducing their work was presented by Imagista. The New York Times wrote of Riener’s performance of a duet choreographed by Tere O’Connor: “Mr. Riener has spent several years now determinedly avoiding the technical bravura he displayed with Merce Cunningham’s troupe; still, when he straightened a leg or inclined his torso here, it registered with classic impact.”

David Thomson

David Thomson Photo: Sylvain Guenot

David Thomson. Photo: Sylvain Guenot

David Thomson has collaborated with artists in music, dance, and theater for over 30 years. He has received numerous artist residencies and fellowships, and has served on faculties and boards of some of the most recognized art and performance institutions in the country. Thomson’s list of artists he’s performed for and with is extensive and impressive, including Bebe Miller, Trisha Brown, Ralph Lemon, Sekou Sundiata, Meg Stuart, dean Moss/Layla Ali, Deborah Hay, Marina Abramović, and many more. Most recently, he served as Artist-in-Residence at The Invisible Dog in Brooklyn, developing a trilogy of site-specific performance works on freedom and surrender through voyeurism, to be performed this year.

A cursory survey of this all-star ensemble reveals the fantastic scope of O’Connor’s ambitions. Culled from across the contemporary dance world, these dancers share an orientation towards formal invention and interpersonal exploration. O’Connor’s resolute refusal to adhere to stylistic boundaries and conventions promises to push each of these artists in fascinating new directions, to the benefit of everyone in the room.

….

BLEED will be performed at the Walker’s McGuire Theater Thursday–Saturday, March 19-21, 2015 at 8 pm. Tere O’Connor will also teach a Master Class at 11 am on Saturday, March 21 in the McGuire Theater.

Talk Dance: Tere O’Connor on BLEED

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 New York choreographer Tere O’Connor, whose work BLEED will be performed at the Walker March 19-21. You can find the podcast on the Walker Channel.   The latest episode of Talk Dance is […]

Tere O'Connor Photo: Natalie Fiol

Tere O’Connor. Photo: Natalie Fiol

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 New York choreographer Tere O’Connor, whose work BLEED will be performed at the Walker March 19-21. You can find the podcast on the Walker Channel 

The latest episode of Talk Dance is built around an error. I was a bit flustered and nervous at the beginning of my interview with choreographer Tere O’ Connor and forgot to push the big, super-important, red RECORD button on my Skype recorder. Luckily, I had a second mode of recording going, just in case anything were to go wrong, which it did. However that recorder only captured Tere’s voice and not mine. So, rather than re-record myself asking the questions, I decided to edit the audio I had to sound like a monologue.

As I’ve listened and relistened to this podcast (about 12 minutes of very compelling thinking about dance, a life in dance and the making of BLEED) I’ve come to love the way it mirrors my experience of watching Tere’s dances. From the first moment, I find myself in a highly constructed world where ideas are born and disintegrate in heartbeats, where landscapes become seascapes become portraits become abstract expressionisms become cathedrals and I can’t quite get my footing and I can’t catch my breath and I’m loving every minute of it. Yes, I’m a huge fan. That’s why I forgot to press record. So, I wanted the listening to be like the watching, that from the get go, you were, as Tere said in our interview, “aswim in what’s already gone by … and sifting through that as it goes forward.”

Tere spoke brilliantly about a ton of stuff and I cut quite a bit of the interview (from 45 minutes to 12), so there’s a lot of great material on the cutting room floor. Three (of many) bits I decided not to include were discussions of cooking (and its relationship to dance-making), Tere’s long time collaborations with composer James Baker, and some thoughts about the evolution of his choreographic practice. Here’s a taste:

ON COOKING: “You know, pepper … has all this deep background, that I can both sense and have also read about. It’s the same way I look at history referenced in my work. I’m not doing a critique of that, they’re just all there blended together creating this other thing and that kind of alchemy is really interesting to me in both cooking and in choreography definitely. There are connections there for me. And they’re very deep.”

ON COLLABORATIONS: “It might be interesting for people to know that I make my dances in silence and then the music comes later. And James and I think a lot about what should be the tone what should be the instrumentation, what should be the chord progression over the whole piece, should it be resolved or not … the way that tone and quality of music kind of finish out the work, its really braided between us and he’s a huge part of my voice.

ON HIS PRACTICE: “…at this point it’s like trying to … use the things that are coming from my practice – all the instability that is inside of a practice and the kind of relationship of doubt to certainty that is inside of a practice. And I don’t want to have a practice that says, ‘I’m fixing that and denying that,’ I want to have a practice that says, ‘I’m including that.’… And since I’ve decided to stay in this form, and not go into a commercial area, I want to really be a commercial, I don’t want deal with product production.”

There’s so much more to chew on in the podcast, and it illuminates not just aspects of Tere’s work, but dance in general. Take a listen and make your friend who says “I don’t get dance” listen to it too–then take them to see BLEED. I truly enjoyed talking to Tere about his work, and I’m very much looking forward to seeing BLEED at the McGuire. And, as my end of the conversation evaporated into the ether, I’d like to personally/publicly thank Tere again for taking some time to talk with me.

Head over to the Walker Channel to listen to the podcast with Tere O’Connor.

BLEED will be performed at the Walker’s McGuire Theater Thursday–Saturday, March 19-21, 2015 at 8 pm. Tere O’Connor will also teach a Master Class at 11 am on Saturday, March 21 in the McGuire Theater.

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.

SMALLERKristaLangbergStripeTease

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

MikeLewisStripeTease

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.

      p

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.

SMALLERTristanKoepkeStripeTease

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!

CROPdolomccombStripeTease

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.

DustinMaxwellStripeTease

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.

JeremyYlvisakerStripeTease

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.

LauraStripeTease1

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. 

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