the New York manufacturer of fine dance apparel
for women and girls. Click here to
see a sample of our products and a list of web sites for purchasing.
With Body Wrappers it's always performance
at its best.
Go back to Flash Reviews
Flash Review 3, 9-11:
Flash Dances at Dancenow Downtown
By Chris Dohse
Copyright 2000 Chris Dohse
Thursday night I identified
a new pet peeve: female dancers grabbing their crotches while dancing.
I mean really giving their yoni a yank, snatching a handful of honeypot
like it's a bowling ball. Sure I can interpret this act as Marky
Mark genderswitch, a vulgar empowerment, but girls, please. I for
one don't need to be reminded of what you got down there in your
dance vocabularies. Hello Kitty indeed.
But I'm being flippant
What I really mean is
to note so much Stephen Petronio and John Jasperse leak into everybody.
Their dancers must be teaching a lot of master classes lately, in
a race to be coolest.
Maybe I've been going
to too many dance festivals. I've become addicted to the fast and
furious programming of multiple-choreographer one-piece-each showcases
(like the Flea's Get Up!, Lisa Leann and Terry Dean Put on a Dance
Show, and Deli Dances in Times Square. See Flash
Review, 6-1: Short 'n Sexy at the Flea and Flash
Review, 8-11: Performance-O-Rama). Each choreographer gets to
shine in a strong, distilled moment from their oeuvres, leaving
little room for boredom. But the flash, pace and hype ultimately
tease, like a maintenance ration of skin pops when you're jonesing
for a hit to the main line.
Robin Staff and Tamara
Greenfield's Dancenow Downtown, in its sixth year, is one of the
best. Prodding hourly audiences in and out, cramming a lot into
a little. Often there are as many downtown dance celebs and up-and-comings
in the audience of its double feature series at Joyce Soho as there
are onstage. Standing in line in the still-sooty grime of Mercer
Street makes for an homage to the tarnished romance of art & commerce.
Maile Okamura's costumes
for Neta Pulvermacher's excerpts from "Apple Venus" captured and
extended Seussy-vibrant polka dot lily pads, but didn't stop the
jerk in front of me from reading his Japanese comic book. Okamura's
crayola palette and XTC's tunes connected two fragments.
The predicament Jeffrey
Gunshol painted with desperate hilarity in "That Girl" was the altogether
ooky one of romance's debris, the sofa we've all occupied strewn
with ding-dongs and ho-hos. Gunshol is a uniquely Balti-moronic
freakasaurus I'm happy to claim as a long-time acquaintance. Beauteous
as a silent-film siren, he swished a gorgeous swath of outrageousness
through his virtuosic self, like rattling around an antic attic.
Keely Garfield showed
a ten year-old duet with Rachel Lynch-John, "Fable," to remind us
that she kicks ass. Ying Ying Shiau and Kuan Hui Chew, contrariwise,
in their duet, "The Stone Garden," danced to ein Deutsches lied.
Made me wonder: How does geography limit (define) culture?
Friday night, the noodling
Eva Lawrence and Tom O'Connor did in Karl Anderson's "Public Showing"
struggled to be noticed behind Sean G. Meehan's "aural environment."
Two uncredited "musicians" operated Meehan's mousetrap machinery
so fetchingly, I didn't give a shit what else was going on. Be careful
picking your collaborators. Meehan's study in inertia warred with
Anderson's exercise in effort. Immediately I wondered about the
thing hanging at the back that looked like a green dress or something
-- it was the only object onstage not yet animated. The dancers
contributed to the soundscore. Lawrence, when she said "I'm out
of your life" (or something that sounded like it), framed the whole
thing in a way I wasn't expecting. O'Connor and the green dress,
which turned out to be an apparatus of chainlinked motherboards,
became a whirligig.
Claire Porter pulled
the usual rabbit out of her hat. It's always a pleasure to watch
her wrap herself around words. Doing what she does so well with
nothing to prove. Ah, the sound of it. Melanie Morris dared to use
her dancers as compositional elements, subsuming their personae
into her unremarkable vocabulary made remarkable by its structure.
Is it okay to call Johanna
Hegenscheidt voluptuous? She dances with a rare clarity of intention,
complex efficiency and control. During her solo, she allowed us
to watch her emerge and discover herself -- and the piece's title
"Lefty," made and performed
by Marisa Lopez and Michel Yang, brought up the rear with a welcome
nightclub-chic atmosphere, two clever girls caught in a sound-bite,
photo-op world of trendspotters, supermodels and teenaged millionaires.
The same world that supports these very sound bites made by me,
the same instantly gratifying circus of sensation promulgated by
multiple-choreographer one-piece-each showcases.
back to Flash Reviews