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Flash Review, 2-5: Wondrously Disparate
Triple Play Concept Exciting and Confusing
By Kate
Garroway
Copyright 2000 Kate Garroway
A hearty ditto
to Tom Patrick's exclamation of "welcome back" into the contemporary
dance scene extended to Symphony Space, which is currently presenting
Triple Play Dance. (Tom Flash Reviewed Thursday's opening of Program
A; I saw Program B bow Friday.) The three companies involved
illustrate the range of contemporary dance available in NY, and
the brevity of the program (about 90 minutes) makes it a lovely
introduction to dance for newcomers as well as providing a smattering
of ideas for the regular dance observer.
Creach/Company
opened the program with Terry Creach's 1998 "A Home for Boys," a
piece I found kinetically intriguing at several points although
I was not ruminating on the dance by the evening's end. The six-man
company begins as a wall of bodies facing stage left, from which
one dancer immediately emerges in a solo of rhythmic foot patterns
and sporadic lunges and leaps. The soloist uses the line of bodies
to stop or propel his body but the relation is vague. Before I could
determine if the relationship is antagonistic or productive, the
men had followed him into a clump and reformed their line only for
the lone dancer to begin pummeling his weight into the floor and
the line anew. My favorite moments in "A Home for Boys" come towards
the center of the work when quartet after quartet is constructed
with varying members throwing, chasing and heaving one another through
space. A certain effortless inertia seems to take over in these
segments and the supple strength of the dancers becomes apparent.
Throughout "A
Home for Boys" the lighting, as designed by Roma Flowers, returns
to the motif of a large white block in center stage, large enough
to house all six dancers, or to emphasize who is in the "home" and
who is not. This visual cue becomes a way to read the sometimes
playful, sometimes rough-house behavior of the six dancers. My overall
impression of "A Home for Boys" was pleasant but unexcited; the
dancers' performances were strong, but the composition did not draw
me in. There is a consciously casual quality to the form which works
brilliantly in the swooping interplay of the quartets but is absent
from some of the dance's other segments. I floated in and out of
attachment to the content and physicality, which left me feeling
curious about Program B's Creach/Company offering since Creach's
work is new to me.
The centerpiece
of the program was Geoffrey Holder's premiere of "Psalms," performed
by Paradigm: Carmen de Lavallade, Gus Solomons jr & Dudley Williams.
Williams begins "Psalms" by walking flat across the stage with a
decisiveness which made my own spine straighten in the presence
of such assurance. All three renowned performers know that their
place is secure on the stage; they do not enter the space, they
master it. Also, they all began their careers in the world of ballet
or classical modern dance. As new forms and styles multiply, the
upward, energetic stance of these performers becomes more unusual
and more striking.
Holder designed
the sound and costumes for "Psalms" as well as the choreography.
The sound consists of scriptural dialogue between Solomons, Williams
and de Lavallade. Most of the movement is locomotive--walking, running,
lowering to the stage--but the way it is performed has nothing to
do with the everyday. These three luminaries glide and lunge through
the space, filling it with their presence. Solomons, Williams and
de Lavallade are as sincere and solemn as the historical and spiritual
connotations of their utterances demand, but never sedate. The three
voices are in discord through the dance, displaying different degrees
of trust, faith and pleading to the Lord they all want to believe
in. Only at the end, as Jane Cox's lighting transforms a cloudy
day into a red-mooned night, do they converge in a final "Amen"
of words and hands grasping at one another.
The Doug Elkins
Dance Company's "The Stuff of Recoiling" roused the crowd to its
highest pitch this evening. Elkins's piece certainly has roots in
Elkins' trademark break dance and club dance rhythms, but other
typical forms of social dance find their way into "The Stuff of
Recoiling" also, making it ultimately accessible and pure fun to
watch. Working from the idea of recoil explicated in the title,
the dance overflows with the same sense of inertia that characterize
the best moments of Creach's "A Home for Boys." What elevates "The
Stuff of Recoiling" for me is that this momentum anchors the entire
work; the dancers find their place in the waves of the choreography
and then ride them through the dance, carrying the audience through
to the end.
"The Stuff of
Recoiling" opens with the four female company members in an undulating,
lethargic salsa-meets-hopscotch quartet. Soon, pairs and trios emerge
through which themes about human relationships begin to surface
in tandem with the physical patterns of advancing, recoiling, flying,
and rebounding. Throughout the series of changing partners and relationships,
the dancers remain energetically calm and carefree; nothing in their
faces or bodies suggests that these transitions are unpleasant or
controllable. Elkins's company rides the wave with enormous energy,
which pleased the young crowd as it did me.
Seeing three
such disparate companies in an evening is wondrous both in the exciting
and confusing essence of the word. For Symphony Space it seems like
a good move right now; I imagine a sampler program like this has
the ability to attract a broad range of viewers, as evidenced by
a nice turnout tonight. The challenge for a viewer (especially as
a reviewer) is to be satisfied with teasing out an image of the
choreographer and performers through a single work. Creach/Company
left me with the most questions and some interest although I found
myself more engaged by Paradigm and Doug Elkins's contributions
Program B repeats
Sunday, February 6 (at 3 PM), and Program A returns Saturday, February
5(at 8 PM).
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