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Flash Review, 6-29:
Outsider Art
Odd Man in at Pilobolus
By Paul Ben-Itzak
Copyright 2000 The Dance Insider
The weird, impossible-looking
twists that Pilobolus dancers contort their bodies through aren't
the only thing in a Pilobolus concert that can make one squirm.
If the Pilobolus Dance Theatre canon can be divided into the serious
and the comic, there's a subset to the serious which might be called
"outsider art," and even that, the way I'm using the term anyway,
has two meanings. First, it refers to the literal theme of somber
works like "Land's Edge," "Particle Zoo" and "Gnomen." But it also
refers to what happens to this lean, mean, tricky dance-producing
machine when a new dancer or other collaborator is introduced into
the mix. Program B of the annual Pilobolus New York season, which
opened last night at the Joyce, made me think of both aspects of
this category.
The most stunning, haunting
example of the outsider story in the Pilobolus rep., at least that
I've seen, is "Land's Edge." A dead or at least somnambulant woman
in flowing ivory dress washes up on the shore of a land inhabited
by -- it's been a while, folks, so I may get some of these characters
wrong -- a pair of narcoleptic semi-Siamese twins, a mentally retarded
man, and a sort of father-mother pair. (I may be wrong about that
last.) Here the stranger -- Rebecca Jung in the production I saw
-- is as much a device for revealing the twisted mannerisms and
relationships of this society, as she is part of the central romantic
pas de deux, between her and the retarded man (in a heart-rending
performance by Kent Lindemer, when I caught it). In the less somber
"Aeros," an astronaut lands on a planet of bunchkins (they move
with their waists bent, heads at their toes, and hands grasping
their ankles as they see the world upside down through their legs;
kids, don't try this at home!) and other characters, including a
queen who at some point falls for the astronaut, and vice versa,
before he skyrockets uncontrollably back into the stratosphere.
Notwithstanding this magical romance, the outsider here is mostly
a device to produce comic physical feats. (Most of which work!)
As for the 1997 "Gnomen,"
well, this is a piece that makes grown men cry. This men's quartet
seems to be about different things to different people -- that's
one of the great things about dance, the lack of a written script
allows for multiple interpretations -- but to me it's about men
passing over, or passing through. In this case, each of the men
is an outsider, and one by one the other three initiate him, through
actions as gentle as three rocking the fourth while he lays horizontally
on their feet, to as harsh as drilling a comrade into the ground,
head first. In this case, Paul Sullivan's music is an equal collaborator.
Coming in (I believe) after the choreography, Sullivan caught the
spirit, in whole and in the minutiae, exactly, and is equally responsible
for triggering at least my tearful reaction.
In its mood, "Particle
Zoo" -- the only one of the dances I've mentioned which is actually
on the program seen last night, "Gnomen" appearing on Program A
-- is somewhere in the middle of the lighter "Aeros" and the other
two. It is unambiguously about an outsider, in this case Benjamin
Pring, who enters the stage after Otis Cook, Matt Kent, and Gaspard
Louis and, noticing that they're all looking skyward and are shirtless,
ditches his t-shirt and looks up too. There are brutal sections,
as when two of the men hold hands, form a net, and invite Pring
to jump into it -- only to pull their hands away at the last minute
so that he drops face down on the floor. But there are also virtuoso
sections in which Pring seems to be allowed admission to the circle:
most strikingly, the sections where they do a sort of sped up, sideways,
body-length leapfrogging, their individual and group facility hiding
the fact that this is undoubtedly a dance in which, if any one member's
timing is a second off, someone could get seriously hurt.
As seen last night, Pring,
while getting better, seems to not quite have a multi-dimensional
dramatic handle on his part yet; in the sections where he is admitted
to the group, he seems to suddenly forget his outsider status (whereas,
say, with predecessor Mark Santillano, the self-doubt was always
lurking). He is getting there, tho; last year's stock silly grin
has disappeared in favor of a curious expression. (Oh, and I should
add: He's a beautiful dancer, probably the purest "dancer" of the
current male crop!) The Pilobolus directors say that their works
are not actually finished when they premiere (I'm paraphrasing);
rather, they come into their own over a period of time. I sense
that the same applies to the dancers' making the roles their own.
For safety and aesthetic reasons, getting the timing of what is
essentially still not only new choreography to them but unconventional
phrasing is the first priority. It takes having this movement become
second nature for a dancer to be able to fully attack the substance
of a role.
In this vein, and regarding
fellow recent (1998) recruit Josie Coyoc, what a difference a year
makes! Coyoc certainly got the job done in the signature, elemental
"Day 2" (directed by Moses Pendleton and created by a score of Pilobolus/Momix/Iso/Peter
Pucci legends before they were legends) last year. This year, however,
she changed the dance! I mean that in the good sense, in that her
creature-like interpretation seemed to bring this dance playground
back to its roots as an act of nature, and call forth the primordial,
pre-human characters it was probably meant to describe. Coyoc has
always been a dynamo of a tyro (a more beautiful cousin of the Tasmanian
Devil, say), since at least her days with the Bill T. Jones/Arnie
Zane company. What's new is that with Pilobolus, she has a chance
to exercise that part of her dance personality more, and the Pil
directors seem open to it. (This is not always the case. In my opinion,
both Tamieca McCloud and Trebien Pollard, who left the touring company
in 1998, were greatly under-utilized, their innate skills and training
not fully explored. Where Pilobolus ceases to be organic and goes
into stasis, sometimes, is in its resistance to being changed, to
really -- if I may employ a biologic term! -- evolving.) There were
actually choreographic moments here which Coyoc interpreted so freshly,
I (I who have seen "Day 2" so many times you'd think I'd have its
moves engraved in my mind like archeological hieroglyphics) could
have sworn that they were new. There's a sharp moment where the
four men are arrayed in a half-circle and Coyoc swiftly, purposefully
jabs each one in the stomach. And in general, she performs everything
more hyper-kinetically (I'm not saying better, just differently)
than her immediate predecessors, McCloud and Jung.
Watching Coyoc, I somehow
thought of the Charlie Chaplin movie "Modern Times," in that she
moved with that same type of relentless, precise machinistic drive.
Not in a soul-less way, you understand, but rather with the mechanism
of an organism whose responses are not calculated, driven by the
brain, but a protozoa that responds and automatically reacts in
a given way to all the stimuli around it. What makes it delicious
to see this dance now is that, opposite Coyoc and completing the
female corps, we have six-year veteran Rebecca Anderson, who herself,
in this dance anyway, gives an interpretation not just reflecting
her own more measured and lyrically-focused dancing, but the residue
of Jung's drolly sensuous, frank, and unabashedly sexually direct
interpretation.
But what was a nice memento
in "Day 2" -- i.e., getting to see the enchanted Anderson one last
time in this dance, before she leaves the touring main company this
fall -- turns out to be something of a crutch in Michael Tracy's
"Sweet Dreams," which received its New York premiere last night.
This quartet relies too much on the wonder projected and provoked
by Anderson -- as she's lifted, supported and encased by the three
men -- which cannot sustain a whole dance without choreographic,
thematic innovation. Yes, there are some new additions to the particular
and peculiar Pilobolus vocabulary, but even they feel heavy-handed;
I can almost see the director and dancers in the studio trying to
come up with interesting new "how did they do that?" configurations.
There's nothing wrong with that in itself; the bedrock of this company
is in many ways its ability to invent vocabulary specific to the
dance at hand. But unlike, say, the Maurice Sendak-Arthur Yorinks
Holocaust-themed collaboration, "A Selection," which can be seen
on Program A, "Sweet Dreams" does not have a gripping narrative
thread to sustain the intricate bodily connections, beyond the obvious
and trite one indicated by the title. (Although I should probably
add here that my dancer-dance photographer companion, enjoying his
virgin Pilobolus experience, thought it was wonderful and also marveled
that Anderson seemed never to touch the ground.)
Another small note here:
Kent, so wonderfully ambiguous in his expressions and characterization
in "A Selection," here reverts to an over-used sort of awed facial
expression for most of his reactions to the tricks and twists of
the other three. This expression is charming the first time around,
but I think it's time for him to diversify. (I hope this suggestion
doesn't sound snide: I offer it as well-meaning, take-it-or-leave-it
constructive criticism from a devoted Kent fan! Of the current crop,
Kent, with Cook and Coyoc coming up close behind, is definitely
the actor of the group, using that term as a compliment!)
This program also offers
a chance to catch Anderson one more time in "Pseudopedia," a dance
originally made for a man by Jonathan Wolken in 1974 (and set to
hippy tribal drumming by Wolken and Pilobolus co-founder/Momix founder
Pendleton), but which Anderson has made her own. She floats, she
tumbles gracefully, she catches the light on her bright red suit,
she catches her toe with her hand and taps her chin with it. This
is one virtuoso dancer, one who has elevated the very art of Pilobolus,
and she will be missed -- by us in the audience and, I believe,
by the directors.
Now then, indulge me
for two more paragraphs for a personal note. Years ago, I had a
protege, Mesha. At 11, after years of making plays on her own, she
acted in a formal performance with a theater conservatory. Afterwards,
I took her aside and said: "Your mom and your friends are always
going to say you were great. I'm going to tell you the truth, at
least as I see it, because I think ultimately that will help you
become a better artist."
I don't presume to have
the same relationship to Pilobolus; in some ways, in terms of how
they and Moses have altered the way I look at dance, I consider
myself the prodigy! But I do criticize them in the same constructive
spirit. That is to say, while for others it might be enough that
this company is still "those wacky Pils, aren't just they hilarious?!,"
or, on the other hand, to dismiss the company because "it's not
dance," I regard it seriously. Indeed, I regard Pilobolus (with
Momix) not just as a company, but a third stream of dance, after
ballet and modern. Rightly or wrongly, I have a proprietary sense
towards the company and this dance Movement. I am as harsh on the
company as I would be on my own son, and for the same reasons, namely
love, high expectations, and only wishing the best for the son.
A program note: The schedule
I have says Program C, bowing next Wednesday, includes the new duet
"Tantra," "Uno Dos Tray," "Apoplexy," and "Aeros"; however, a dancer
told me last night that not "Aeros," but the not-recently seen "Debut
C" ("Debussy"?), the last piece Moses Pendleton helped create while
still with the company, will round out the program. Pilobolus continues
at the Joyce, with three programs, through July 22. Pilobolus Too!,
the misleadingly named company of Momix/Pilobolus veterans Rebecca
Stenn and Adam Battlestein which performs many of the luscious duets
created by Pendleton and Alison Chase, as well as other works, performs
matinees July 12 and 19. For more info, visit the Joyce
web site.
For more on Pilobolus
-- aw, heck, we've written so much about them, best to type "Pilobolus"
into the search engine and see what you find!
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