Life as a Modern Dancer

Gestures and Dreams at Queer Date Night

Octavia Rose Projects in "bodyfabric II" with Jhia Jackson (left), Heidi Cash (center), and Noah James (right). Photo by Kim Anno.

Image description: Three dancers pose in close proximity in a space with light wooden flooring and white walls. Two are standing and one is seated in a power wheelchair. Each dancer is frozen in a gestured position. The stage lighting is a warm orange and pink tone. The costumes are white, grey, and orange.
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Gestures and Dreams at Queer Date Night

By Garth Grimball

Does anything scream “queer!” more than descending a staircase with drama? Well, Octavia Rose Hingle knew what they were doing to open Queer Date Night, part of Shawl-Anderson Dance Center’s Queering Dance Festival. 

Due to COVID, 2020 festival artists are finally given the chance to share work in 2021. Shawl-Anderson is producing small festival events throughout the year instead of a week of consecutive performances. Queer Date Night took place at 2727 California Street in Berkeley (CA), an intimate arts and education space in a converted corner grocery store.

In Hingle’s bodyfabric II they score the dancing of Heidi Cash, Jhia Jackson, and Noah James with live piano playing. James kicks off a suite of solos from a spiral staircase. Hingle smartly makes use of the quirks of the venue. A support beam centers the stage space, and the dancers utilize its dimensions rather than pretend it’s not there. Much of the movement concerns surface, its presence and absence. Each dancer takes time to assess walls, floorboards, and the piano with intimate grace. Hands caress bodies like fabric then reach and embrace the surrounding aura. 

bodyfabric II shifts abruptly from interiority to exteriority. Hingle stops playing piano. A club beat by Octo Octa drops the gossamer vibe into a party. The trio come together to move freely, outwardly in gaiety. Their energy feels genuine. A more developed tonal shift would release that energy into the ether.

Queer Date Night shifted from live to digital with the screening of uuu_prelude: wet dreams of J.A.P.A.N pt. 1 & pt. 2 by Estrellx Supernova. The 21-minute film is a meet-dirty of Annie Sprinkle’s eco-sexuality and Nijinsky’s Afternoon of a Faun. Supernova and Tina Wang grind and undulate amidst the National AIDS Memorial Grove in San Francisco, while Zoe Huey draws non-figurative interpretations of their grooves.

Screenshot from the film with Zoe Huey (left, drawing), Estrellx Supernova (center, red shirt), and Tina Wang (right, in pink wig).
Image description: Three dancers are in a wooded area in the daytime, on the ground. All three are wearing wigs. One dancer is drawing on a scroll of white paper with a black charcoal or pastel. The other two dancers are on the edges of the paper, posed on the ground.
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Directed by Supernova with videography by Chani Bockwinkel and Ainsley Elizabeth Tharp, the camera’s primary focus is the pelvis. Supernova and Wang’s faces are obscured by bright wigs and COVID-era fabric masks. A pithy means of disidentification. Without visible faces their bodies abstract into the wilderness. The hypnotic quality is undercut as passersby enter and exit the frame. This happening in the woods is glanced at as just another day in the Bay. There’s little variation in the content of the film but it doesn’t feel long. Its intent is opaque but its impact lingers.

Electronic music from six different artists soundtrack the dancers as they undress into thongs — red lace for Supernova, cotton for Wang — allowing more coupling between nature’s debris and skin. Orgasm defines a wet dream from a dream. The film ends with the duo snaking their way towards a grassy meadow. The final shot is of Supernova face down on the ground. It feels less like a release and more like exhaustion from an abundance of foreplay. But, then again, who doesn’t love foreplay?

Screenshots from the film with Tina Wang (photo #1, left image) and Estrellx Supernova (photo #2, right image).
Image description for photo #1: Dancer is outside on a dirt path amongst tall trees and rocks. They are standing, facing away from the camera. Their legs are twisted, arms outstretched to the sides. They are arching back, and their long dark hair drapes down the back. They wear a white sports bra and white booty shorts.
Image description for photo #2: Dancer is stretched horizontal in a bright green grassy area with white flowers in the grass. Their head is turned away from the camera. They are only wearing red thong underwear.

 

Garth Grimball is a dance writer and artist based in Oakland, CA. He hosts the Reference Desk podcast and is the co-director of Wax Poet(s) performance collective.

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In "Bacchae Before" the Reveal is in the Subtext

Silk Worm as Dionysus, center, with Belinda He, left, and Karla Quintero as two Bacchae. Photo by Robbie Sweeny.

Image description: A very dark theater space with black background and black marley. Three performers are on stage - one standing in the center dressed all in white, holding a microphone. Two performers flank the center artist, kneeling and facing back with heads turned towards the center person. Their hands are up applauding.

 

In Bacchae Before the Reveal is in the Subtext

By Garth Grimball

How interesting is it to watch others party? The fun in revelry is the absence of ego as you get down, boogie, praise, or exhale deeply. Being outside, watching the party, it’s easy to feel like Jay Gatsby staring through a window waiting for the party to become something or someone. Ego held strong. Depending on how much you enjoy watching others party will determine your response to Hope Mohr Dance’s Bacchae Before. Mohr and Maxe Crandall co-direct this dance theater adaptation of Anne Carson’s Bakkhai, a translation of the Euripides play.

Performed by Belinda He, Wiley Naman Strasser, Karla Quintero, and Silk Worm, Bacchae Before opens with all four in low-key orgy mode—groans and heavy petting—and uses the mode as transition between most scenes. Euripides’ Bacchae dramatizes the conflict between Pentheus, king of Thebes, and Dionysus, a newish god flexing their power, over influence on the female citizens of the kingdom and the power of faith writ large. Carson updated the language to better reflect the humor of the tragedy in our modern tongue. Mohr and Crandall use the text as a foundation to build a loose narrative around the tragedy of gender reveal parties. The adaptation is largely a performance of Carson’s text with scenes by Crandall interspersed.

Silk Worm and Strasser do double duty as Dionysus and Pentheus and a contemporary hetero couple expecting a baby. They slide easily between mythic authority and Instagram banality.  He and Quintero are the Greek chorus dancing and assisting throughout. The pair have one extended dance break. They ratchet up the energy with unison choreography of weighted centers and thrown limbs. Otherwise their dancing is a direct extension of the text. The stage is bare except for the characters and clusters of props. The props become more than costumes or scenery as the narrative switches between Carson’s and Crandall’s texts. Fondled or thrown aside like a quick joke, the objects are signifiers of class, gender, and temporality.

Bacchae Before is dance-theater. The text defines the work but dance is given its due. Mohr and Crandall wisely have the actors do the most acting and the dancers do the most dancing. I wish that dance was used as a connective tissue between scenes and time periods beyond the aforementioned writhing and improv-ecstatic dance. The body and gender locate the concept yet the body isn’t given much to do conceptually.

The program makes a point of noting, “the moment of reveal is a cornerstone of classic tragedy.” This recognition, combined with gender reveal parties, leads one to believe a reveal would be forthcoming. Not so, at least in the narrative sense. The reveal in Bacchae Before is in the subtext not the text. Silk Worm as Dionysus asks rhetorically, “How do I look? Convincingly human?” The text is telling us a god is in human drag. The subtext points to the absurdity and violence of how much being “convincing” within a gender identity is predicated on external forces rather than internal truth.

Death of Pentheus. Object animation by Mike Chin. Photo by Robbie Sweeny.

Image description: Photo of a small plastic brown toy deer. Next to the deer is a pool of red spilled paint to simulate blood and a crushed pine cone in it. The surface is wide stripes of light pink, light yellow, and grey. The background of the photo is blurred with small toy trees.

The most arresting scene is object animation. Silk Worm reads the play’s climax directly from Carson’s text. Strasser, He, and Quintero approach a mise-en-scène laid out on a table downstage center. They turn on a camera with live feed projected on the theater’s back wall. The ensuing minutes see a tracking shot across a miniature landscape designed by Mike Chin. The landscape evolves with the narrative blending mundane objects with fantastical colors and contexts. This scene is a welcome disruption of the binary of performer-director and the trope of livestream within live theater. The cast animate the inanimate. The scene provides an intimacy deeper than the moments of ecstatic revelry. One medium becomes the chorus to another.

Euripides’ Bacchae ends with an exile. Bacchae Before ends with a projection listing all the anti-trans legislation enacted or proposed across the United States. A different kind of exile.

Garth Grimball is a dance writer and artist based in Oakland, CA. He hosts the Reference Desk podcast and is the co-director of Wax Poet(s) performance collective.

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RAWdance’s Portal into (Un)familiar Space

Nick Wagner and Jhia Jackson, foreground. Erin Yen, Claire Fisher, ArVejon Jones, and Juliann Witt (upstage). Photo by Hillary Goidell.

 

RAWdance’s Portal into (Un)familiar Space

By Garth Grimball

Site-specific dance often prioritizes site over specific. And, as a priority, the site often exists as an absence rather than a presence. This site is not a theater. This site is a unique influence on the dance.

The former is arithmetic: non-theater site + dance = site-specific work

The latter is geometry: dance = site/movement + π r ¹

RAWdance’s premiere Portal exists somewhere in between.² Performed at the Transbay Joint Powers Authority’s Salesforce Park, September 3-5, co-director Katerina Wong explores “a space to process and reflect” with a cast of six dancers. Portal begins with a signature RAWdance group number. Claire Fisher, Jhia Jackson, ArVejon Jones, Nick Wagner, Juliann Witt, and Erin Yen pop in saturated colors against the evening greens of the park’s foliage. The movement plays with lines, canon, and balancing motifs.

From there the audience split to follow tour guides around the park to experience 5 performance installations. While the prescripted guidance guarantees a complete viewing of each section, it negates the rare freedom available in public parks. Were the audience allowed to roam freely, the experience of the installations would tune into the frequency of the surroundings. Catch a glimpse of a dancer like a seagull swooping past. Notice the distance between bodies like the skyscrapers cluttered around the elevated park. Instead the work feels very frontal, like being in a theater, but you’re not. You’re outside.

Claire Fisher and Erin Yen. Photo by Robbie Sweeny.

There are moments of eco-bliss. “Kindred,” a duet performed by Fisher and Jones, happens on a hill under fantastical lighting by Thomas Bowersox. Green LED specks shimmer across the trees as Fisher and Jones shift between static and languid. The duet ends with the dancers falling and rolling down the hill, leaping up to roll again. THIS. THIS MOMENT. This moment could ONLY happen in this exact setting. This moment is site-specific. It is breathtaking.

The other installations have echoes of site-specificity. Wagner backs into a tree causing the branches to shake and the tree is part of the dance. The gravity of Witt’s feet sliding against the soil evokes the special meeting of solid and moisture.

The finale happens on the park’s Amphitheater Stage. Michael Wall’s soundscape and Ephraim Colbert’s media projections blend into a calming vibe. The dancers, now clad in white, partner each other in rotating combinations. Jackson stands out in her commitment to the choreography; her focus imbues the weight sharing with an evergreen present. Portal closes with the dancers running in loops down the amphitheater’s stairs. The moment aims for release but lands as a task. Processing and reflecting begets more processing and reflecting. RAWdance continues the process.

Photo by Jim Watkins.

^{1 Note: this reference to geometry is purely metaphorical. Discussing the practical applications of Pi x r-squared to choreography is beyond me.
2 Algebra?}

 

Garth Grimball is a dance writer and artist based in Oakland, CA. He hosts the Reference Desk podcast and is the co-director of Wax Poet(s) performance collective.

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Juilliard’s “New Dances” Showcases Strings and Socks

Juilliard’s “New Dances” Showcases Strings and Socks

By Garth Grimball

Alicia Graf Mack, dean and director of Juilliard Dance, introduced the department’s “New Dances” program with now-familiar caveats: dance rehearsals followed public health guidelines; in-person and Zoom process; casts of no more than 8 dancers; no touching or partnering; lastly, within restrictions creativity flourishes. If only that were true of this program. The dancing is virtuosic and passionate. The dances are bland and long.

Four choreographers, Tiler Peck, Sonyah Teh, Bobbi Jene Smith, and Matthew Neenan, created original works on the students of the Juilliard Dance Department. Are there obstacles this new generation of dancers can’t handle? 

Dancing for camera - check. Creating work under the confines of health precautions antithetical to dance making - check. Ignoring the swamp-face from strenuous activity in a mask to the point of seeming like it’s totally natural - check. Their verve and commitment to dance inspires.

Peck’s “Broad and Free” builds vocabulary out of attitude turns, enveloppé​, and port de bras above the head. The choreography follows Caroline Shaw’s piano and violin composition, never going against the music, but cruising in the wake of its melancholy. The structure and staging have the forward-facing unison common to competition dances. At one point the music slips into a mazurka and Peck quotes Balanachine’s “Stravinsky Violin Concerto.”

For “End, Middle, Beginning” Sonya Teh brings the viewer into the piece with cinema-verite-style filming. The camera moves through the wings onto the stage and out into the audience. For the rest of the piece the viewpoint is mostly static with crossfades as transitions. Group floorwork interrupted by standing solos define the dance. The interruptions lack the punch of creating a ceiling and breaking it, feeling more like a knock on the attic door. The somber music of Son Lux dulls Teh’s creative ideations on the Graham-Gaga lineage.

Speaking of Gaga, Bobbi Jene Smith’s “Ways of Listening” is a parade of solos overflowing with the pelvic floor and energetic mania endemic to the technique. Smith’s choreography and staging is the most dynamic in its use of the theater space. Thankfully she goes against the Nico Muhly cello (more strings) solo played live on stage. “Ways of wanting to be heard” is a more apt description of the dance. Soloists center the action while the rest of the cast stand still observing. The lunges, turns, gestures, and leaps become shouts into the void because of the static listening. Smith breaks the only-8-dancers rule in her climax. Twenty one bodies fill the stage in a tightly structured mix of unison and variations.

Matthew Neenan’s “The Solo 7,” set to String (!) Quintets by Mozart, has the idiosyncrasies of a dance made 10 years ago. Remember between 2009 to 2013 when every contemporary dance had the “flick” gesture (arms unfurl out and snap quickly at the wrist)? “The Solo 7” is of the era when ballet choreographers decided to incorporate the “flick” and other contemporary dance gestures into classical vocabulary. The dance has three costume changes: muted pedestrian, monochrome floor-length dresses, unison brown and black ensembles. The sartorial variation has little effect on the mood or tone of the piece.

Other than being set to strings, all of the dances have one commonality: socks. When did the mid-ankle length sock become the contemporary dance uniform, like pointe shoes to ballet? Each dance used the exact same type of socks, no variation in length or material. I love dancing in socks. It’s comfortable. Socks signify a coziness that contradicts the groundedness of modern dance, the connection to the earth. The Juilliard dancers move with precision and abandon. But through the screen and through the socks, the weight of a body floats away.

New Dances: Edition 2020-21 is available to stream for free on the Juilliard YouTube channel for 1 year.

 

Garth Grimball is a dance writer and artist based in Oakland, CA. He hosts the Reference Desk podcast and is the co-director of Wax Poet(s) performance collective.

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One Good Quote: "Portal" with RAWdance (September 3-5, 2021)

Claire Fisher in RAWdance's "Portal" at Salesforce Park. Photo by Kyle Adler.

In Fall 2017, Life as a Modern Dancer launched a new concept for post-performance discussion and writing. The goals are multi-fold:

• What are new ways to invite post-performance writing (since so few publications now print dance reviews, and there are fewer and fewer dance critics in the United States)?
• How can choreographers hear and read more from audience members about their impressions and experiences of dance events?
• Can we offer new mechanisms for choreographers to gather language about their work, to further their work and to promote their work? 

The premise is simple. If you experienced "Portal" with RAWdance September 3-5, 2021, please take a few minutes to leave a comment. Write down images, impressions, appreciations, and questions from the performance. These can be words, phrases, or a few sentences. 

We thank you for your time, support, and thoughtfulness. Here's to more dialogue, more reflection, and more writing on the dance performance experience. As choreographer Mariah Steele noted, we are "democratizing dance criticism."

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How do cameras in the classroom revolutionize how we view and participate in dance?

Image: Camryn Eaglin

How do cameras in the classroom revolutionize how we view and participate in dance?

By Camryn Eaglin

The use of cameras, along with the growing popularity of social media, has revolutionized how dance is viewed and perceived. It has allowed our art form to be seen on the world stage in an instant, through someone’s smart phone or computer. I’d even argue that it creates another nuanced relationship between the student and their craft. Now studio owners, teachers, and dancers are utilizing the camera as a tool for promotion and maximizing reach more than ever. However, I pose the question---is it beneficial in the classroom? Do the cameras preserve or expose the private space the studio has held for dancers prior? 

I have been dancing for 19 years and I’ve witnessed this shift. As a kid, there was a mystical aspect of dance recitals because the occasion was only once a year. We would finally let our families in through a stage performance. It was as if we were sharing a secret we had kept for so long. The recital tape would be the only form of footage we had to show for the growth we made during the year. Around 12 years old I began uploading short clips to Facebook of me dancing in my tiny living room, only accessible to close friends and family. In the dance studio however, we began recording fun combinations on iPhones when I was around 14. My classmates and I would be eager to post our videos on Instagram, crossing our fingers that our dancing looked good enough on camera. I would think --- hopefully it translates to my followers. This was the culture that developed for a lot of dancers, where we would dance for the sake of posting. Fortunately I was able to keep a healthy relationship with the camera, where the studio was still a space of privacy.

I have recently observed that filming has become an integral part of class time. For some teachers it is built into the fabric of their “to do'' for training. As dancers, our teachers often repeated the phrase “Dance like no one’s watching” or “You’re always performing.” These statements can be contradictory to each other, especially when cameras are involved in class. Who are you dancing for? Filming can be used as a tool for dancers to see themselves from an outside perspective and as a way to make corrections. However, teachers often post videos to promote choreography. Dancers even upload videos to promote themselves and transform their social media into a sort of  online resume. It can be a great tool. Recently on Instagram Live celebrity choreographer Sean Bankhead said, “The content on your pages are so important, it’s the new resume. Upload good quality content, invest in your page, and invest in your camera work.” There is now high importance on taking and sharing footage from class. On that note, I’ve felt that filming can also make class less about the training and more about perception --- Am I doing better because I want to? Or am I doing better because I want this video to look great? It runs a fine line especially for young dancers. I’ve experienced several classes where you learn the combination in 30 minutes and a videographer comes in and films for an hour. Can you spot the potential problem? Where does the privacy and intimacy of class have time to cultivate in this environment?

Professional dancer and educator Kyrah Gradford says she occasionally participates in class filming. She quotes, “I like to see small nuances that I feel like I don’t do, and I can see it on video and correct it but I don't like the stigma of getting a video and feeling forced, pressured, or  having the anxiety of posting it for social media.” Social media creates the illusion of perfection. In return, this can directly affect how dancers experience classes and combinations when professional filming is involved. Gradford also broke down the process of filming and receiving a professional recorded video. “When it comes to a professional camera, 9 times out of 10, the videographer already has the video, the choreographer has the video, and then it takes a minute to get to you. So it has already been seen by two, three other people. Then that choreographer sometimes chooses to put that out to the world probably without your permission.” This brings up the idea of consent and asking students if they are okay with being filmed instead of assuming.  

Cameras in the classroom seem to be a preference based on the dancer, teacher, and community. Although we have to constantly adapt to changing times and mediums, there is always benefit in balance. Teachers should consider how they can still incorporate cameras occasionally while also giving their students the privacy to just train. This is a great conversation to have between studio owners, teachers, and students so that the healthiest environment can be created for all.

Video filmed by Alyssa Grabinski. Photo taken by Camryn Eaglin.

Camryn Eaglin is a professional dancer and writer earning a Bachelor of Science in Dance and a minor in Broadcast Journalism from Wayne State University. She is a diversely trained dancer with an interest in all facets of the dance community.

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Resource/Reading List: For a Somatics Course

Design by Claire Calalo Berry of Flourish and Frost

From Blog Director Jill Randall:

Each August, I love connecting with college professors as they prepare their syllabi and course material. Today I want to share resources from the blog for a Somatics Course.

 

Somatic Writing Series

In Spring 2021, nine dancers shared ideas around somatic themes and how these themes played out in their lives - such as softening, allowing, activating, and slowing down to feel.

Like "flash fiction writing," each writer took on the challenge of sharing their ideas in 100 words or less.
I hope you might get inspired to write on these themes as well, succinctly and poetically within this word limit.

Somatic Writing Series

52 Movement Poems

At the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic and shelter-in-place, in Spring 2020, I started sharing Movement Poems on the blog. The idea was to offer improvisation and composition prompts that we could easily do at home. I paired each poem with a piece of music by Michael Wall, easily accessed on his site soundformovement.com.

Here is the complete list of 52 poems. Somatic concepts and language are woven throughout the poems.

Invitations: 52 Movement Poems (the complete list)

Books Recommendations

A short list of books to browse and consider for your courses:

The Natural Body in Somatics Dance Training (Doran George, edited by Susan Leigh Foster)

Mindful Movement: The Evolution of the Somatic Arts and Conscious Action (Martha Eddy)

My Grandmother's Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies (Resmaa Menakem)

Diverse Bodies, Diverse Practices: Towards an Inclusive Somatics (Don Hanlon Johnson)

The Place of Dance: A Somatic Guide to Dancing and Dance Making (Andrea Olsen)

The Embodied Teen: A Somatic Curriculum for Teaching Body-Mind Awareness, Kinesthetic Intelligence, and Social and Emotional Skills--50 Activities in Somatic Movement Education (Susan Bauer)

Other Resources, Podcasts, and Connections

I also want to mention the incredible work of Prentis Hemphill, The Embodiment Institute, and The Nap Ministry. I encourage you to explore these links as well as you prepare your classes.

Plus, this is a short journal to print out:

Intro Spective Wellness: 10 Writing Prompts to Examine Your Beliefs around Intersectional Wellness by Chanel Durley

Lastly, I do want to give a shameless little pitch for this deck of dancer wellness cards Claire Calalo Berry and I made in 2020. There are 31 cards, many with somatically based words on them (receive, soften, listen, etc). Consider pulling a card for each day of class. Purchase the cards through Etsy here.

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A New Journal for Your College-Level Technique Course This Semester (Free to Download)

From Blog Director Jill Randall:

Over the years, it has been really fun to create these journals for undergraduate level and graduate level technique courses. Today I share the 4th iteration. This one is meant to be a co-learning experience --- where students and professors alike write in a journal each week as part of a course. I hope that you will check it out.

The journal can be used for a variety of dance styles and levels, and there are multiple formats to select from here. If you have the ability to print and bind copies for your students at your school's print shop, that would be a really great option.

 

Version 1: a PDF for students to print at home

Download: On Technique IV Print at Home

Version 2: a PDF to print at a print shop

Download: On Technique IV Print at a Print Shop

Version 3: a PDF in which you can type

Download: On Technique IV Fillable PDF Version

 

Also, check out the 3 previous journals as well if seeking a variety of options!

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Bring in the Summer Season: How Dance Intensives and Festivals are Making a Comeback in 2021

Photo respectfully reproduced from the Ririe-Woodbury Summer Intensive webpage.

Bring in the Summer Season: How Dance Intensives and Festivals are Making a Comeback in 2021

By Camryn Eaglin

Now that many dance companies and programs are back to their summer festivities, dancers have many options. However, each particular format is up to the discretion of the specific organization. Throughout the country mandates are becoming less strict with vaccinations available. Now, programs are able to function in person to some capacity if they desire, and many are doing so. Across the dance community this summer the consensus seems to be around a virtual, in-person mix (aka hybrid). This decision can be dependent upon either maximizing access to a program through the virtual space or prioritizing in-person learning in real time but with a very limited number of dancers. Let’s take a look at what the dance community has to offer this summer and how they are doing it!

Dance Summer Workshops 

Many dance workshops and intensives this summer are offering an in-person option along with a virtual option. All the in-person options do require a health screening with COVID protocols in place. Please visit links to access exact costs and exact application requirements if still accepting.

Complexions Contemporary Ballet is offering one virtual option via Zoom this summer, and five in-person options in four different cities: Dallas, LA, Detroit, and NYC. The company is executing this through a limited capacity of students both online and in person. For their virtual setting, they are only admitting 30 students on a first come first serve basis. Their in-person capacity varies city to city, but overall there are no more than 35 students allowed per group. Auditions are still required for acceptance into the program. True to tradition, Complexions plans to put on a showcase at the end of each intensive where friends and family can join. The LA intensive deadline is June 30th; the others are closed.

Alvin Ailey’s highly remarked summer intensive is forging on this summer. Their annual junior division for ages 14-16 will take place in person, but they are only allowing dancers from New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, and Vermont to participate. Their junior division has no virtual option. However, the professional division for ages 17-25 has only one restriction as far as enrollment. Due to visa restriction and quarantine requirements, international students aren’t eligible to enroll for this in-person option. Although this program is filled to capacity, the professional division is offering a virtual Horton workshop with pre-recorded classes that you can take at your own pace. There is no audition required. Dancers can still enroll in this virtual workshop.

This year David Dorfman Dance’s annual summer workshop has both a live and virtual option simultaneously. Participating dancers are given a choice to select what option best suits them and their learning. Students participating live are welcome to stay in the dorms at Connecticut College in New London, CT for the five day intensive. All in-person students will be required to be a part of their COVID-19 testing program. There is no capacity listed for the maximum number of virtual students or the in-person option. DDD is still accepting enrollment prior to the intensive start date of July 6th.

The A.I.M (Abraham in Motion) Intensive is happening both in person and online. The intensive is only permitting 32 people. This includes 12 people for in person training and 20 people joining  virtually. Although their applications closed, their admission process was quite interesting. The application asked potential participants to complete two short essay questions elaborating on why they desire to either learn through the virtual space or in-person, and what they could gain from the experience. 

The Ririe-Woodbury Dance Company of Salt Lake city, Utah is hosting a Move-it Teacher Workshop along with their annual Professional Workshop. However, for the first time this professional workshop will be intertwined with a new Salt Lake City-based dance festival, Dance West. Both of these workshops are hoping to be in-person but they have made clear that updates will be made as the intensive comes closer. Applications are still open for both workshops.

There are a few companies that will execute intensives strictly online:

AXIS Dance is hosting a virtual intensive via Zoom (August 2nd-6th) which is open to disabled and non-disabled artists. There is no virtual capacity as the company strives to engage the community from all around the world. They are utilizing the virtual ability to have greater reach. There will be a plethora of classes including a teacher training portion that provides teachers with information on inclusive dance methods.

New Dialect in Nashville, Tennessee is hosting an all-virtual workshop with its focus as a research lab. They are providing three access options to participants. The three offers give dancers the options to what content they have access to. They also have no set capacity as they also are placing focus on connecting with peers all over the online space to explore creative process, guest artist sessions, and hold discussions. All access options are still open for registration. 

The Doug Varone and Dancers Summer workshop for pre-professional and professional dancers is also functioning completely virtually. Classes will be hosted online with no audition necessary. The company strives for no more than 30 participants in a given class.They also offer great flexibility. If a participant can’t attend a specific part of the workshop, there will be recorded videos and discussions provided so you can access the classes when time permits. The company says this will be their last virtual workshop. Applications for the intensive are currently open.

Photo respectfully reproduced from the Jacob's Pillow website, related to the zoe | juniper virtual performance in August. Find out more here.

Dance Festivals

Some of the biggest dance festivals in the community are gearing up to create an experience like never before, making the best of the circumstances and expanding the way they reach dancers.

Jacob’s Pillow is offering an encompassing experience for participants with their first multi-platform festival. The 2021 festival will span from June 30th to August 29th, and streaming events will go on as long as September 23rd. The festival will  include various performances from different companies on their outdoor stage, online discussions, dance classes, exhibits, and community events. Onsite events and performances are functioning at 25% capacity to promote social distancing; but audiences can tune in from anywhere in the world if they RSVP their tickets.

The American Dance Festival will run as a four-week program this summer from July 21st to July 17th. This festival will be done virtually where there are drop-in classes, discussions, virtual performances, and weekend workshops.. Participants have the option to enroll as drop-in, part-time, or full-time. The full-time option gives you access to 8 classes per week. The intensive is movement and technique focused and will still challenge dancers even through a virtual zone.

The Bates Dance Festival will be hosting workshops and performances at Bates College in Maine. Their Professional Training Program for dancers 18 and older will be held for 3 weeks in-person. BDF is limiting student acceptance to just 35 in order to ensure proper distancing in its studios and dorms. Evening and weekend events will include outdoor performances, panel discussions, screenings and more. The only online feature of this program will include artist talks and digital performances. They will also host two programs virtually, Young Dancers Workshop @ Home for ages 14-16 and Professional Training @ Home for dancers 18 and up. They are truly providing options suited for all. Only the two at-home intensives are still open for applications.

The Yard has a creative and performance platform for artists. From June to August, they will host six choreographers for creative residencies to produce workshops and performances. These will function as “bubble” residencies. The Yard will present a combination of in-person and online performances throughout the summer. All in-person performances will be carried out for the Martha’s Vineyard community, and they will enforce reduced capacity at events. Tickets will go on sale throughout the summer and performances will occur based upon proper protocol.

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In Batsheva’s YAG, It’s A Family Affair

Igor Ptashenchuk, Yonatan Simon, Hani Sirois, Londiwe Khosa, Yael Ben Ezer, and Sean Howe in YAG.

In Batsheva’s YAG, It’s A Family Affair

By Garth Grimball

“Once my family loved, really loved, really really loved to dance.”

This is the thesis statement of YAG, spoken by each of the six cast members in an exploration of familial relations and heritage. Created for the stage by Ohad Naharin in 1996, this is Batsheva’s first production adapted especially for the screen; presented and streaming via the Joyce Theater. Yael Ben Ezer, Sean Howe, Londiwe Khoza, Igor Ptashenchuk, Yoni Simon, and Hani Sirkis dance with a commitment to those words. Playing family is easy. Moving as an ensemble is tough. The world building in this dance succeeds by the coherence and chemistry of the cast.

The cinematography by Roee Shalti is superb. The entire production is filmed on a proscenium stage. The lighting design is one look. The images move from the screen into the mind without the barrier of showy effects or angles. Each close up is earned. I never felt I was missing part of the choreography beyond the frame even when unseen actions are evident. After a year of reviewing, watching, interacting with online dance, a personal barometer for quality is how often I feel the urge to lift my hand over to the trackpad and drag the mouse to the bottom of the window to see how much time is left. During YAG the urge was absent. For 45 minutes my attention was rapt in the translation of this concert dance to the screen.

On the topic of urges, the sexual politics present in much of Naharin’s work leaves me with a sense of horniness unsatisfied. The choreographic tension builds on hormonal bounty. The dancers’ bodies feint and parry like gladiators commanded to abstain before a match. Simon and Ptashenchuk graze the inner thighs of Khoza with their ears before being pulled into the groin. Simon jumps atop a rectangular orange plank held from underneath by a naked Ptashenchuk. While the work has an arc, there’s an avoidance of climax.

Sean Howe, Igor Ptashenchuk, and Yael Ben Ezer in YAG.

This is not to say YAG is without nuance. Other than the plank/door/barrier, there is a prop use striking in its simplicity and symbolic effect. Sirkis walks backwards placing fortune cookies like ducks in a row on a diagonal across the stage. Several feet behind, Ezer walks forward crushing the cookies with every step. Fortunes are made and lost passed down through generations. The remains of the sugary prophecies cover the floor adhering to the dancers like inheritances material and immaterial.

The choreography moves within confrontation, slight to extreme. Naharin’s direction confronts the implicit agreement of a fourth wall. The dancers look directly into the camera often, usually when speaking. Are they telling us? Or inside the direct gaze is the internal monologue revealed? Together, Naharin and Shalti, keep the kinesthetic alive on the screen. The edits feature the effort of dancing even if the cast make it look effortless. Wide (almost cruel in their width) deep fourth positions, accumulating gestures, spasms with the intensity of electrical shocks, and caresses that become shoves, expose the relational currents in this family.

Once I loved, really loved, really really loved to watch live dance; to be part of an audience. I am in awe of how concert dance shifted to the virtual stage over this past year. YAG is an exemplary product of the shift. I can’t wait to live in that love again, live. Until then, I know the heritage of dance is alive, on and off the screen.

Hani Sirois, Londiwe Khosa, and Yael Ben Ezer in YAG.

 

YAG is streaming via joyce.org May 27 - June 2, 2021.

Garth Grimball is a writer and dance artist based in Oakland, California. He is co-director of Wax Poet(s) and hosts the podcast Reference Desk.

 

An Afternoon Walk and Dance Through Glen Canyon Park: FACT/SF’s “Diffusion”

Erin Yen and Emily Hansel (background), Samuel Melecio-Zambrano and Katherine Neumann (foreground). Photo by Robbie Sweeny.

An Afternoon Walk and Dance Through Glen Canyon Park: FACT/SF’s "Diffusion"

By Molly Rose-Williams

It’s been over a year since theaters around the Bay Area shut their doors. Like much of the rest of our lives, art-making and performance have migrated online or outside. Last Saturday, FACT/SF’s newest work, “Diffusion,” brought me for the first time to San Francisco’s Glen Canyon Park. The show mapped a 45-minute loop into the canyon and back. Along our walk, dancers peopled the canyon walls, peaks, and pathways like open-armed invitations to notice. Notice the dancing, but also the canyon itself—the plants, animals, red stone and bright blue sky, and the many park goers with whom we shared the experience. 

After the show, I got to chat with Charlie Slender-White, FACT/SF’s director (another novel feature of the COVID-era dance show—small audience sizes that allow the artists to personally connect with everyone who comes!). He shared that although these outdoor spaces have always been available for dancing, it wasn’t until COVID forced us outside that he felt drawn to create in them. “It always seemed too complicated,” he reflected. “What if someone walks through the piece? What if there’s another event that’s distracting? What if a dog won’t stop barking?”

Creating “Diffusion” has shown him that it really isn’t complicated at all. Instead, it’s felt like an opportunity to move with what’s available. As an audience member, this type of immersion in a public landscape feels vastly different than the tightly curated attention of a dark theater. My experience of the show was just as much about the dancing as about the landscape in which it took place. My reflection below responds to this holistic immersion and round awareness. I hope in reading it, you can share even a fraction of the pleasure I found in experiencing “Diffusion.”

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I’m standing on the cement path at the mouth of Glen Canyon Park. It’s a piercing blue day. Clusters of smiling people lounge on the sunny field to my left. Shrieks of glee float from the playground to my right. Other dance-goers gather around me. Charlie, the director, wears a fuschia shirt and bright red socks. He greets us each by name, and checks us in on his phone. On the far side of the field, a raucous yell rises from a volleyball court as one player spikes the ball over a taut black net. 

All of a sudden, six dancers take off at a run across the field. Fuschia shirts bob, red socks pump, in a perfect single file line. A family of picnickers look up from their sandwiches as the runners approach. The oldest picnicker (Dad?) chews slowly as he tracks the runners’ progress around their blanket. The three kids stare, jaws agape, as the runners close the loop and sprint towards the volleyball game. The family dog scoots towards the youngest child’s sandwich, but Dad swats Dog away before it can grab the big slab of bread and meat hanging limp in the child’s hands. The child just stares, hypnotized by the runners’ retreating backs.

The dancers continue to wind across the field, cutting curving paths like neon intestines. Now they come towards us, their official audience. “I have no idea what they’re doing,” a girl announces in a loud whisper behind me. The line of five bobs past her to climb the steep street bordering the park. “Whoa,” she says. We stream uphill in pursuit. 

The street is steeper than it looks. I wonder if the dancers’ calves burn like mine.

“That donut may have gotten me,” a fellow audience member moans as we climb the sun-drenched pavement. He outlines his current dietary allowances to his friend as we turn onto a shady path. “Goat milk, sheep cheese, and RICE. I’m obsessed with rice.”

Six fuschia dancers stand on a grassy golden hill up ahead. Two move with crane-like swoops through the grass. Four stand like sentries on the wood and dirt staircase carved into the canyon wall. With their black masks and matching outfits, the dancers appear almost more archetypal than human. The sentries split, two of them sprinting up the stairs, and two leaping onto the path in front of us in clouds of dust. The pathway dancers swing like a Newton’s cradle, back and forth, back and forth, hips low to the ground.

“C’mon man, it’s a dance,” murmurs a passerby as he tries to coax his lumpy yellow dog past the dancers’ sweeping movements. But the dog winds, as if drunk, directly into the taller dancers’ feet. The dancer leaps with catlike precision over the dog’s bowed back, taking off at a run down the path. A jogger in neon yellow appears like a mirage to follow him. The crane dancers swoop off the hill to follow the jogger.  

We keep moving up the path. Above, the climbing sentries reach the canyon’s jagged lip. They look barely larger than my index finger as they peer down. A pair of hawks soar above them in perfect unison.

Wiley Naman Strasser (left), Eric Garcia (middle), Meegan Hertensteiner (right). Photo by Robbie Sweeny.

Two dancers eat up space on a wooden bridge, spiraling as if hungry for sensation. Their feet scrape out a rhythmic soundtrack on the rocky path and hollow bridge wood. We pass through a tunnel of curly willow that echoes with birdsong. My skin buzzes with delight.

We emerge in a clearing dwarfed by a sharp grey peak jutting like teeth from the ground. Three fuschia dancers wave like synchronous windmills on top of the rocks. A hiker in head-to-toe blue pops out to join them. He whips out his phone with a practiced arm and films their airy movements.

Below them, a little girl in a light pink dress wanders across the scene. “Mommy,” she announces, “I forgot to tell you, this place has lots of pine nuts!”

“Cool,” her mom sighs as she huffs behind her up the path. 

We all chuckle.

I crane my neck like a magnet to the sky as we retrace our steps through the willow tunnel. A hummingbird flits overhead. At the bridge, three dancers bathe us in the sounds of their feet dragging along the path as they make wide, arcing movements over the dirt. Three more dancers join them, balancing in utter silence atop the thin wooden ledge of a retaining wall. They move their arms with blade-like precision, opening and closing their chests as if carving out a novel dimension. 

Three passersby stop to watch. 

“You’re my best friend,” one professes to another as we follow the dancers’ retreat towards the mouth of the canyon. 

We stop at a small lawn to witness three dancers hopping in perfect unison like birds on hot coals. Then we pass a woman who drops a very small piece of paper, bends to pick it up, and then drops it again. I don’t see if she ever manages to keep it in her pocket because a crowd of hikers in leggings and visors tromps between us.

Finally, we emerge at the field where we first gathered. The volleyball game is long over, but the family of picnickers is still there. Dad swats the dog away from the bag of chips slipping off the youngest child’s lap.

Above it all, four dancers climb a set of steep stairs backwards towards the street. They each wave a long streamer as if in farewell. A man at a picnic table on my right gazes wide-mouthed at the image, his neck snapping back and forth between us and the retreating dancers. “It’s a dance,” I consider explaining, but then decide against it. I’m part of this dance too, after all, and I’m pretty sure that’s not part of my role.

Samuel Melecio-Zambrano (left) and Katherine Neumann (right). Photo by Robbie Sweeny.


Molly Rose-Williams is a dance artist, writer, educator and community arts organizer from the San Francisco Bay Area. You can read more of her writing and learn about her work at www.mollyrosewilliams.com.