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Flash Review 2, 9-27:
Celebrating the Margins
"Artists in Exile" Brings Legacy & Future of Bay Dance
to the Fore
By Christine Chen
Copyright 2000 Christine Chen
SAN FRANCISCO -- The
Roxie Theater, Mission District, San Francisco. I moved to the San
Francisco Bay Area earlier this month because I was lured by an
intangible energy and essence that I sensed when I visited last
spring. Specifically, I was deeply inspired when I witnessed members
of the community (yes, the actual community, not just the insular
dance crowd) affected by and involved with the dance world's activities:
environmentalists and labor unions rallied behind Jo Kreiter's "Copra
Dock Dances"; children and adults stood in awe as Project Bandaloop
turned their world around by dancing on the side of a building at
a street festival; and audiences danced and bounced in their seats,
ignited by the drummers and dancers in "Extravadance," Sara Shelton
Mann's long-awaited return after her Contraband days.
To my dismay, the scene
that I returned to this fall was depressing, and my future as an
artist in this city looked dismal. With the closing of performance
and rehearsal spaces (Dance Mission and Dancers Group being the
two most recent casualties), the arts seemed on the verge of being
debilitated by the booming economy which has driven rent prices
up -- rendering them unaffordable for artists. (This has indeed
affected all artists: last weekend, local music bands took to the
streets, playing on rooftops and sidewalks throughout the city to
protest evictions and the dwindling of rehearsal spaces.) I went
to the Roxie Monday to see the documentary "Artists in Exile: A
Story of Modern Dance in San Francisco," hoping to be re-inspired,
but fearing either an overly politicized agit-prop blame game on
the space crisis or a self-serving documentary filled with in-jokes
and references for which I, as a newcomer to the scene, would feel
left out. My fears were allayed, and my greatest hopes were exceeded,
for the producer/director team of Austin Forbord and Shelly Trott
treated me to 84 minutes of pure inspiration and rejuvenation.
Forbord and Trott in
"Exile" poetically and intelligently weave together a tale about
the history of S.F. Bay Area dance artists with well-chosen footage
from performances and rehearsals and with captivating interviews
that humorously capture these artists' varied personalities. The
clips, arranged to chronologically document the S.F. legacy beginning
with Anna Halprin, are compelling and well edited (though I wanted
to see more!). Memorable images include: Merce Cunningham, never
more dynamic or supple, improvising in Halprin's backyard; Mangrove
and Tumbleweed's early use of Contact with context; Dance Brigade's
in-your-face political tactics; Joe Goode's "29 Effeminate Gestures";
rambunctious dancers in urban public arenas like airport hangars
and city streets; ethereal presences on the beach and (Project Bandaloop)
on the face of Yosemite Falls; and Contraband's aggressive athletes
Contact jamming with moving cars. Most of the time I sat in awe
of the raw physicality and urgency of the work, surprised that video
could elicit such a visceral response. The movement is ferocious,
potent, passionate, important, impractical, balls-out/tits-out,
urban, soft, powerful, sexual, wild, political, spontaneous, vital,
compelling, juicy, jugular, ridiculous, and spectacular. The interviews,
too, speak volumes about the SF artists. Conversing candidly, intellectually,
passionately, flippantly, reverently and irreverently all at once,
the interviewees speak from respectively fitting site-specific locations
-- inside, outside, with props, and on ropes.
Throughout the chronicle,
several themes emerge: The NYC/SF dichotomy and the poignant (and
timely) questions and dilemmas facing SF artists: Why have SF artists
been ignored by critics/historians/national presenters/funders?
How has this affected the art and the people who have chosen to
live and work here? What potential (or problematic?) role might
critics play in this city? What next?
If you are from New York
you probably have never heard of the dancers or groups whose names
I have been throwing around, but let me assure you that Contraband
is more legendary and revered in this city than Twyla is in New
York. This is precisely the point of the documentary: S.F. artists
have been exiled from the center of the dance world (NYC), and the
influences S.F. artists have had on the dance community have been
largely ignored and unrecognized. Anna Halprin influenced Yvonne
Rainer, Trisha Brown, and Simone Forti, yet they are credited as
the forerunners of the postmodern movement. Terry Sengraff introduced
gymnastics into her movement vocabulary and experimented in motivity
and aerial elements long before Elizabeth Streb put a trampoline
on the stage. The discussion goes on -- New York represents fame,
prestige, recognition, funding, critical acclaim, and refined skills
while San Francisco represents a place to find oneself, to experiment
and experience, to redefine and reinvent, to toil in anonymity,
to transcend.
Many of the artists interviewed
in this documentary look to critics to bring S.F. out of invisibility.
However, herein lies the Catch 22 of the S.F. critical dilemma:
artists rely on critical reviews to gain national exposure and funding,
to have a written testament and record of their work, and to be
canonized in dance history and discourse, yet the very absence of
this pressure to produce and the reality of S.F.'s marginalization
have driven the spirit and the freedom in S.F. dance.
I think, and I borrow
heavily from post-colonial discourse in this, that S.F. critics
need to find a new way of viewing and reviewing Bay Area work. Our
artists are not playing by New York rules, so why should we as critics
use these rules to evaluate the work that is being made and produced
out here? If S.F. artists are frustrated with both the lack of coverage
and the predominantly negative coverage (from critics expecting
something else, perhaps a New York aesthetic) they have received,
maybe it is our responsibility to develop, invent and germinate
a new critical language: a dialogue, focus and set of values unique
to the San Francisco Bay Area. With this rhetoric we can give our
artists the recognition and feedback they want and deserve without
paralyzing their enterprising and spontaneous spirit.
In any case, I left the
theater feeling uplifted -- for witnessing this history filled me
with faith and confidence that the arts community would use the
current space crisis as fuel for the next urgent dance movement.
Sure enough, as I exited the theater I was handed a flyer for a
resistance rally at City Hall. The postcard, handed to me with the
simple and gentle request, "Please come," reads, "Rally & Laugh,
Drum & Dance; For life, for love, for art, for fun; Taiko/Ballet/Samba/Mariachi/Hip-Hop/Modern/Contact
& Clowns/Jugglers on Stilts, Salsa in Speakers, Players and Singers;
'if we can't dance we'll make a revolution'; On Wednesday, October
4 @ 10 a.m. we will propose to the City Finance Committee specific
solutions for the arts & non-profit crisis in San Francisco." This
is precisely the energy and the scene the film depicts: dancers
uniting and reacting to environmental realities (physical and political)
and pressing issues with equal urgency and immediacy in their bodies.
The gender stories have been told, AIDS testimonies given, sexuality
stories tested, autobiographies politicized, and relationships dissected.
San Francisco needs a new stomping ground. While leaving others
to refine these (worthy) subjects in their dances, the politically
relevant SF artists are reacting from the gut and are creating work
in response to what needs to be reacted to right now. This is the
heart and soul of San Francisco and this, I am reminded, is why
I came here.
"Artists in Exile" concluded
its current San Francisco run last night at the Roxie.
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