Nick Leichter and Monstah Black brought it Home – as in there’s no place like it – in DanceNOW’s most recent full-length modern dance musical, The Whiz.  From the moment Monstah begins his R&B crooning in full-blown afro wig, complete with hair pick, a soulful tone is set and we know we’re getting the goods in this 70s-to-2010 mashup.  The Leichter/Black team is proving a rich collaboration served very well by the setting at Joe’s Pub.  The duo’s hot hype matches the playful, good-time audience used to the musically based Dancemopolitan series. Monstah’s cabaret personality threads through the entire work and he works the floor with plenty of panache.  Nick’s blend of urban and classical dance vocabularies, with the aid of additional choreography by the saucy Wendell Cooper,  plays out well in the close quarters.  Dance at Joe’s Pub works best when it has wit and style, when it understands the atmosphere of tables, wait staff, cat calls, cocktails, menus and an audience out for entertainment.  The Whiz hits the right mix: the energy is high, the dancing robust, the singing great, and the green-sequined divas plentiful.

There were enough references to the late 70s film version (and I suppose the original Broadway show) to satisfy any “Brand New Day” nostalgic needs.  Though I missed any obvious Lena Horne/Glinda moments, we did get a Diana Ross bit, complete with portable electric fan to keep Dawn Robinson’s hair flying for “Soon As I Get Home.”  There was a brief appearance by David Parker who belted out a rousing “Be a Lion” after sitting quietly at the bar for about 4/5ths of the show.  We got a snippet of what a luscious mover Monstah is during The Tin Man’s “If I Could Feel” and, finally, someone addressed the homo-erotic underpinnings of “Slide Some Oil” (on me), not to forget the oozing “Juicy Fruit” number for Leichter, Cooper, and Keon Thoulouis that had the two ladies in front of me gasping for air (“Oh God, all three of them at once.”).  Singer/performance artist Yozmit appeared out of an installation of white, plastic sheets that, I think, she’d been sitting in for longer than Parker was at the bar to sing a haunting, gibberish/Pansori lament as the Wicked Witch of the East Village.  Korean is a soulful language and Yozmit’s performance, wrapped in white plastic, with his head in a large, clear bubble turned the witch into an unwillingly bound shaman.

Monstah, Leichter, Cooper, and Yozmit provide a multiplicity of club and underground aesthetics that appropriately reference the disco-inspired original while offering a more contemporary vision of New York’s urban dance and performance cultures.  Their Poppy Girls turned into a gender-bending Papi dance full of hip slides and hand snaps – strike the pose, work the pose – that would have challenged any Drag Race contestant.  Lauren Basco, Laurie Taylor, Stephanie Liapis and Aaron Draper (in a delightful popping “Mean Ol’ Lion” solo, dressed in boxing headgear and gloves) rounded out the hard-dancing MJ and Prince-channeling cast and moved The Wiz’s original celebration of African-American liberty into a modern day dance party for pluralism.

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they wanna check my papers see what I carry around, credentials are boring i burnt them at the burial ground… – M.I.A. birdflu

Sahar Javendani is showing her newest work-in-progress as part of DTW’s Studio Series.  The Studio Series is meant as a research laboratory for physical explorations and new movement investigations with a focus on process, not final performance/product. The “performances” are intended to be informal public showings to share ideas with an audience in the intimate working space of the studio.  I’d first seen Sahar’s work on DTW’s 2009 Fresh Tracks and then again as part of Danspace @BRIC’s “Home” program.  Her theatrical, witty and poignant takes on issues of gender representation, cultural mores, and national ties made her an artist I was immediately enamored with.  Having spent decades digging into the ever-shifting conflicts among an ad nauseum list of expected personal allegiance (flags, aesthetics, communities, sexual orientations,  blah blah blah blah blah), I value watching someone else tackle it with a hearty dose of ribaldry. 

“The Turquoise Lounge” is in very early stages so I can understand to a point why the performative heart of the work still only resideds in the body of its creator.  However, for a work that aims to look at the intricacies of personal politics amidst the reality of global identities (the work is set in an airport customs lounge), the remaining cast seems noticeably tied to an Ellis Island lineage lacking the breadth that its bellydancing and bhangra teaching choreographer carries with her.

See Culturebot’s 5 Questions for Sahar from last year.

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Creating a feasible and successful platform for new dance works requires the same research, consideration, experimentation, and evaluation that any performance work deserves.  For this past Friday and Saturday night, Symphony Space invited choreographers Gina Gibney and David Parker to share and weave together an evening of dances for its “Short Form Weave.” The idea was to juxtapose the VERY different kinetic and aesthetic worlds of these artists as a way to enliven their work.  The choreographers shared the same composer, Ryan Lott (aka ‘Son Lux’) and a similar love of compositional formalism, but little else.  The works were two complete dances simply split down the middle – first we saw Parker’s “Other Arrangements I,” then the first two sections of Gibney’s “concrete mecanique,” then Parker’s dance picked up where it had left off, and finally, Gibney concluded the program with her final two sections.  I’d say the format is in the early stages of experimentation and could use significant re-evaluation.  As usual, when a presenter drops a format onto artists, rather than letting the artists generate a more organic system for sharing space and time with one another, the end result feels forced and artificial.  As a means for comparison, it served the group of Hunter College students who joined me, but neither work was served exceptionally well by cutting it in half.

Parker had recently adjudicated 27 (!) student choreographed works at Hunter and it was “exciting, interesting, fun” for them to judge the work of someone who had recently judged theirs.  The two choreographers provided excellent examples for the development of form with excellent clear examples of motif and development, canon, counterpoint, and all that classroom stuff.  But, beyond the classroom, Parker proves exemplary in offering rigorous hunks of that ever-elusive Original Voice.  He is a master of choreographic repartee.  The witty sexuality and whimsical structures seduce audiences into gleeful response while craftily providing us with sophisticated deconstructions and re-inventions of multiple dance genres.  “Other Arrangements” is danced with rampant individuality by Terry Duncan, Marissa Palley, Amber Sloan, Nic Petry and the indefatigable Jeffrey Kazin.  This company, from well beyond the cookie-cooker dance mold, brings Parker’s multiple movement streams and sources together into cohesive wholes.  Luscious, sweeping, full-group interchanges are as masterfully handled as Petry and Kazin’s delightful deconstruction of “Tea for Two” both in sung and whistled versions.  Parker’s work speaks to the world we live in now, one with constantly disappearing borders.

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Interactivity in digital arts and performance is at its best a marvel of discovery, rekindling childhood feelings of intimate connection to a vast inexplicable and beautiful world.

In his book Digital Performance, Steve Dixon notes that interactive works encourage a childlike fascination with the pleasure of cause and effect from the audience.  In the first section of Koosil-ja/danceKUMIKO’s Blocks of Continuality/Body, Image and Algorithm at Dance Theater Workshop this weekend, Melissa Guerrero, Ava Heller, and Elise Knudson are the responsive component to the interactive system.  Taking the input of still images and video clips from, among other things, traditional dances of South and SouthEast Asia, Africa, Tibet, and the Middle East, and providing the output of three simultaneously different mimic-based combinations of moveemnts, the dancers offer the audience a primer for Koosil-ja’s Live Processing technique.  Unlike some of her previous work with Live Processing, Blocks, allows the audience to see the video sources which provides us with some of the fun of witnessing cause and effect.  However, my excitement as a viewer resides in my appreciation of the actual production of unexpected and individual dances within the process.  The interactive process proves fascinating with a performance product that satisfies my interest in watching the effort of live, “real” bodies in front of me.

Based on her experiences working with The Wooster Group, Koosil-ja has been refining Live Processing as a method for achieving a physical realization of French philosopher Gilles Deleuze’s theory of a Body without Organs.  Like any proper techno-wannabe, I’ve banged my head against some Deleuze (and Felix Guattari) theories, primarily around their theory of the Rhizome.  I don’t hold a Doc of Philo but my best understanding of how Koosil-ja translates Deleuze is to consider a BwO as one that is freed from analysis or personality, one with, as she calls it, “pure potential.”  Composer Geoff Matters explained during the pre-show Coffee and Conversation on Wednesday night, that the selection of performers has to do with their ability to most cleanly shut down extraneous movement histories and simply serve as clear conduit for the visual information on the screens before them.  BwO considers multiple bodies, including virtual and physical ones.

In the third section, following an open explanation and demonstration of the forthcoming processes, an arm swing or pelvic rotation from the dancers become the cause for domino effect responses from onscreen avatars.  The dancers’ movements are still dictated by the LP system, but now the product is not their execution but the actions of animated characters projected on three screens at the front of the stage.  Once we enter the land of virtual bodies, I can feel both my desire to understand the interactive system’s rules and my engagement with the work as a performance wane substantially.  I start thinking about Philip Auslander’s arguments about “Liveness.”  What is the value of live performance in a world dominated by mass media?  What is the value of live performance when the product is a 3D image projected onto a 2D surface?  In an age when the audience/participant divide continues to disappear and we culturally have become increasingly more willing to author our own scripts and direct our own experiences in virtual landscapes (I mean, back when I had a Second Life, my avatar could fly to see the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling), what is the ultimate value of my body’s presence in the theater for this?  The “Slum” world of this final section may be inexplicable, but in comparison to the vast and beautiful worlds already available to my first-grade daughter via a cousin’s Wii or even a trip to Farmville, I don’t think Dixon’s quote from above is represented in Blocks final realization.

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Kyle Abraham is working a successful mix of dazzle and poignancy to great effect.  Last weekend, he premiered “The Radio Show” to packed houses at Danspace Project.  He’s been on my watch list since seeing his solo and group works, “Brick” and “The Dripping Kind” at Dance Theater Workshop two years ago.  Last summer, I joined his little group during an audience break-out session in the midst of David Dorfman’s “Disavowal,” also presented by Danspace Project.  Audience members were supposed to sit with the cast member/character we most identified with.  He had served as a powerful antagonist, challenging white guilt and entitlement.  I don’t see myself as “Angry Black Man,” but those of us who are at the margins of the Marked half of the spectrum end up there some of the time.  Up close and personal, he was immediately warm and receiving.  A ferocious out package wrapped around a sweet center.  I was already a fan, I became an admirer.
A solo he showed during Camille A. Brown’s season at Joyce Soho revealed his continued explorations in smashing formal and popular dance forms together.  As then, he continues to use music and sound in “The Radio Show” as obvious sign posts for the converging and sometimes oppositional aesthetic forces at work, setting Beyonce next to pulsing static in the same way he throws a pirouette next to a hair toss or shoulder roll.   His own ability to rapidly shift between vernacular and classical dance forms is impressive and part of the great allure of his work, but he’s showing more skill at highlighting the outstanding abilities of his virtuosic dancers and letting them rip across some cultural borders.

“The Radio Show” is a memorial of sorts, as well, both to a former hometown radio station, AM860/FM 106.7 in Pittsburgh and  and to the father he is losing to Alzheimer’s.  There is potent grief in the shaking crumple that follows an explosive series of bound and electric chest pops and arm swings.  But, there is also the excitement at watching an artist pull both the kinesthetic and emotional meanings out of popularized movement and back into the highly personal realm it came from. Like Bruno Beltrao, Abraham captures the spirit inside of various hip hop movement practices and culture.  Unlike Beltrao, however, Abraham is sometimes too enamored with the classical dance technique that is also an ingrained part of his heritage.  There are moments where I feel as though the physical, sonic, visual juxtapositions of high/low are a battle, rather than a Both.  For me, the excitement (and my grand expectation about where I’ll see both of these artists showing there work a few years down the line) is in watching how artists today can tear down the bias against hip hop that seethes through certain populations and ignores it’s prevalence and impact on dance globally.  Abraham has it in him to be everything, all at once, soon enough his will too.

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Oi! The 7 trains are running this weekend (thanks to the continued slushfest), so there’s no reason for you to miss multimedia/interactive designer and performer, Andrew Schneider’s riotous tonic to the endless winter malaise festering in your subconscious.  He’s at the Chocolate Factory tonight and tomorrow with “Wow and Flutter,” a frenetic, witty, disorienting explosion of linear time.  Despite my whiny pre-school roommate’s exasperated “why do you always have to go to a show?” I knew I was in need of a fix in the wake of Bruno Beltrao’s departure and this did it.  I’m still crackling and a little slack-jawed from the impact.

In Schneider’s hands, time gets trashed.  The work begins with a satisfying  jolt and ends in a beautiful meditation.  I don’t want to describe much of what he does because I found the surprising shifts to be a great part of the wild, palindromic rabbit-hole ride he takes us on. And, I’m expecting you to go – so catch up with me later and we can talk about specific moments. Schneider’s worked with The Wooster Group, developed a solar bikini that can charge your ipod, and weaves a great tale.  He’s a charming and disarming performer, the physicality is fantastic, and the break down of the rules of masculinity and memory are stimulating.  The integration of visuals, systems for processing live and pre-existing (what does that even mean in this work?) material, and the various methods and means of delivery satisfied both my visceral and nerdbot needs.

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While a long popular class destination for young and international dancers since it’s Dance Space Center days, Dance New Amsterdam has been effectively developing several platforms for bringing various artists together and to their 130-seat theater since moving to Lower Manhattan in the wake of 9/11.  There are various “Raw” and work-in-progress offerings, as well as formal presentations, artist residencies, and two gender related series – the self-explantory In the Company of Men (ICOM) and OBject obJECT, a shared performance program focused on female collaborations in dance, music, theater and new media.  On Sunday, I attended a matinee for the fourth edition of OBject obJECT and have to say I appreciate the Sunday afternoon time slot (as I’d guess the several overbooked AD/curators who I glimpsed in the audience would as well) when more nights seem to be spent out than in.

Marýa Wethers returns to the stage in a solo she commissioned from choreographer Daria Fain. TARGET::furnace (phase one) was conceived by both artists as an investigation based of the female action hero.  I’ve spoken a bit with Marya about our shared love of female martial artists and women who kick ass in the movies in general.  So, I was curious to see what would filter through a collaborative creative process with Fain.  Aside from several striking iconic visual images, the strongest transmission is of the churning and snapping energy of pursuit.  Fain distills the flash of Action into flashes of action in an intriguing way.  Wethers enters the space in a large, thick, white, 7 lb, terry cloth robe, appearing every bit the acolyte readying to leave the temple and as she strides through the space in a circular pathway, one can sense determination and impending peril.  After she slowly disrobes, she moves through the space bringing in swirling cloud hand gestures, snapping snake hands, and various kata inspired kicking sequences.  The movement quality reminded me of watching my own kids imitating the various kung fu videos we watch (I mean, we named our son after Jet Li – so despite our attempts at an Om Namah Shiva ya life style we still let our kids watch people beat each other up when it’s done with art and skill).  There was a busy-ness to this section that kept it from feeling somatically sincere, as if the physical effort was more exercise than an authentic movement expression.

But, then Wethers pulls out a pile of shiny, metallic darts and begins throwing them at the three “target-objects” by Fain’s collaborator Robert Kocik.  Suddenly, Wethers inhabits both the playful reality of pretending to be a super human female combatant and the considered consciousness of investigating movement in her body.  She follows this sequence by moving into another realm, as she crosses the line of side lights and moves into the visible “offstage” area where Katherine Young has been playing her score live on bassoon with Christine Bard on percussion and Erica Dicker on violin.  She removes her skirt, stands pressing herself against a wall of mirrors, removes her top, and leans against the mirrors in a deep knee bend with arms extended outward, as if returning to meditation in a deep cavern following an arduous uphill battle or rite of passage.

Guilia Mureddu, from the Netherlands, performed “Bava,” a duet with a large puppet by Ulrike Quade.  A naked Mureddu began entwined with the puppet and at points throughout the work the two shifted from individual entities to aspects of the same self.  Mureddu attempts to crush the whimpering puppet though it later bursts forth from a tightly held ball at her navel in a representation of some inner psychological struggle.  Movement Research artist, Mariangela Lopez/Accidental Movement brought together a large crowd for “Accidental #5,” an often aimless wander through group dynamics.  As large groups often tend to move, it would seem without direction but eventually get somewhere.  Sometimes the There that they got to was ecstatic and invigorating to watch and sometimes there was no There there for us to watch, but the performers appeared to be having a connected experience with one another and a few people from the audience joined in at one point which poked a little hole into the formality of theatrical-izing the communal.

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If I could, I would go back to DTW for the next 3 nights with someone new to see Bruno Beltrao/Grupa de Rua’s “H3″ each time.  I want to watch this work work.  And work it does, on so many levels.  It’s a physically brutal investigation of time, space, and energy.  It’s a collapse of discrete systems and a rebirth for hip hop and contemporary dance performance.  It’s compelling, frustrating and rousing.  Beltrao is doing something for hip hop that Forsythe did for ballet.  He’s moving it to new ground and getting it in front of new audiences.  He’s also providing contemporary performance with a fast and furious injection of what is probably the most common global movement practice of our times.  He’s beyond appropriation, fusion, migration or transmission.  He is full-on synthesis and he is banging apart the borders for the rest of us.

Beltrao has received substantial recognition in Brazil and Europe, but this is his first time to the US.  You do not want to miss it, though I’ll admit that I might opt for late seating for my own return visit as the first 20 minutes gets a bit tedious.   It begins compellingly enough but what starts as movement investigation begins to feel like filler (perhaps to achieve evening length status).  I have much more to say, but as I spent at least an hour and half (most of it freezing on a street corner) debating the merits of the work and the merits of contemporary dance with my b-girl/American Studies scholar/Dance and Journalism degreed/recovering former member of the “poverty circuit” (as she tells me the B’way dancers call it) guest, I’m now tired and chilled.

But, I had to first say GO! What else do you have to do on a Sunday night?

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Caught this last night – Brian Rogers, AD of the Chocolate Factory is sharing his latest work-in-progress this weekend. There’s no 7 train – damn the MTA – but figure out how to get out there and have some free wine. I definitely caught that opening feeling of William Eggleston’s “Stranded in Canton” – the part with his extraordinary daughter simply staring at the camera – throughout the work. I geeked out a bit and sat right behind Brian to watch his process – he’s digging into MAX/MSP for real-time video processing and is playing with moving cameras and multiple projectors.  Having seen a very early version of this at the Prelude Festival, it was great to get the next look at a developing work.  Madeline Best maintains incredible focus as the solitary live body and subject.  When a ghostly projected Madeline appears on the cloth behind her, the doubling and tonal shifts imply nostalgic imagery.  As viewers, we are watching both the projected image and the projected image as backdrop for the live feed of Madeline as it is projected onto a head high screen.  The textural contrasts provide emotional and temporal variations in a single image. It’s kind of magical and meditative.

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Put on my wellies and slogged through the slushfest last night to attend Dance Theater Workshop’s “Fresh Tracks” benefit.  It was well worth it. If this particular program (for this 45-year old series) is an accurate barometer of our current artistic atmosphere, I’d forecast rich days ahead for dance.  I’ll admit, despite being a loyal and supportive board member at DTW with my own FT story, I’ve not often walked away from this emerging choreographer showcase cheering a hokey “hooray for dance!”  But, last night I did.  The works by Vanessa Anspaugh, Jen McGinn, Liz Santoro, Eleanor Smith, Makiko Tamura, and Enrico Wey were each singularly strong and all exceptionally vibrant.  There was crackle, craft, poignancy, provocation, form, presence, thought, and wit running rampant throughout the show.

It’s incredible to feel charged and challenged by a rising generation of creative voices and to feel a particular kind of hopefulness, knowing that these artists are now only beginning the substantial component of their Fresh Tracks experience.  Besides presentation at DTW the artists are provided with a 50-hour creative residency and professional development workshops in marketing and fundraising strategies.  They’re also participating in dialogue sessions with Artistic Advisor Levi Gonzalez, facilitating open discussion about their creative process and providing a valuable opportunity to build community and discourse.  This all comes after this performance week, speaking to the need for artists to get more than just a gig and providing the field with a few better prepared members.

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