The Company (movie), May 25, 2005, my living room

Go rent this movie. It has no plot, but some of the best dancing I've seen on film. The Joffrey Ballet plays "the company" of the title, and half of the movie is footage of them dancing. Neve Campbell of "Party of Five" fame plays the main character, and I must say that I have new respect for her. Growing up she trained at the National Ballet School in Canada, and she did all her own dancing in the film. She doesn't quite have the polish of the Joffrey dancers, but she does a great job in a duet with Domingo Rubio, My Funny Valentine by Lar Lubovitch, who plays himself in the film. (It's an enthralling dance, by the way.) There's a decent interview of Ms. Campbell here. Some of the other pieces shown in the movie are Light Rain, Suite Saint-Saens, and Trinity by Gerald Arpino, the artistic director of Joffrey. Also shown are Tensile Involvement (Alwin Nikolais), Strange Prisoners (Davis Robertson), and Creative Force (Laura Dean), a latin-inspired dance in red costumes. White Widow is a dance for a woman and a swing. The music is dreamy, and as she spins and swirls in her long white dress there are several excellent demonstrations of the conservation of angular momentum. The piece was choreographed by Cynthia Quinn and Moses Pendleton of Momix; Mr. Pendleton was also one of the founding members of Pilobolus, who performed here in April. The film ends with Robert Desrosiers's The Blue Snake, not my favorite piece but very colorful. The aim of the film is to show non-dancers how things run "behind the scenes" at a ballet company. There's a horrifying moment when one of the dancers is rehearsing a solo from La Vivandiere Pas de Six and snaps a tendon. (I'll wait while you cringe. Better?) Several of the dances are shown in rehearsal before we see them on the stage. I guess what with already knowing what rehearsal is like, I couldn't see the fascination of those parts of the film. Everyone knows that ballet dancers' feet bleed. Do we have to see it again? There's also very little character development; things happen to the dancers, some good, some bad, but I found myself not caring. Still, while the film's not going to win an Oscar for best screenplay, it should win one for best dancing. (If only there were such a category. Sigh.)

Encore! (Dominic Walsh Dance Theater), May 21, 2005, Wortham Center's Cullen Theater

This program by DWDT was billed as "a celebration of the company's most beloved works." Rather than go through a laundry list of each piece in the show, I'm going to focus on what were, to me, the most interesting pieces. I was aware that Flames of Eros was one of the company's most popular dances, but up until this show I had never managed to see it. The piece is set on three couples who portray figures from Greek mythology: Persephone (Julie Gumbinner), Hades (Lucas Priolo), Psyche (Carolyn Judson), Eros (Andre Silva), Aphrodite (Lindsey McGill), and Apollo (Dominic Walsh). I remember Persephone and the pomegranate seeds, and of course Apollo and Aphrodite as sun and moon, but I'd have to pull out the old Edith Hamilton to brush up on the relationship between Eros and Psyche. Yeah, I could Google it, but my point is there was little if any obvious portrayal of who was what character or how the relationships of the three couples differed; it's very different than, for instance, George Balanchine's Apollo. The costumes (pants for the men and dance dresses for the women) and the image projected on the scrim behind the dancers gave the impression of neoclassical rather than classical anyway. That said, there was nothing not to like in this performance. The dancers were first-class; I caught myself saying "Wow" to something that Lucas Priolo did, not technically challenging but with a perfect line. Not that the choreography wasn't technical; it was, and the dancers handled the jumps, turns, and dynamic lifts with precision and style. The music by Ennio Di Berardo was sweeping and bold in some places, subtle in others. It's easy to see why this piece won the 1998 Choo-San Goh Award for Choreography. (I can't find a good webpage with information about either the award or Cho-San Goh, or I'd put a link!) Mularra is an intense piece about reconciliation. The music is based on a fragment of an Autralian indigenous song and composed by Paul Stanhope. The entire piece was danced in one pool of light on stage left; the musicians (Richard Belcher on cello and John Marcus on violin) sat on stage right. It seemed to me that Lindsey McGill's character was more important to the narrative, she remained the center of attention while Marcello De Sa Martins's character faded in and out. To tell you the truth, I need to see this piece again to review it; there was too much to take in in one viewing. For The Two of You was choreographed for Julie Gumbinner and Lucas Priolo as something of a wedding present from Dominic Walsh. Mercury Baroque, with whom DWDT has collaborated before, played the music of Giovanni Bonocini. (The music Saturday was actually a tape; presumably the musicians had appeared the night before. I think they were busy doing an opera on Saturday.) While I was watching this dance, I noticed one movement in particular and had the sudden realization that it exemplified Mr. Walsh's style, but I couldn't quite put it into words. Later, in the Q&A period with the dancers after the show, Lindsey McGill fortuitously made the comment that his style is "cause and effect," something with which I agree. The show closed with Katharsis, a dance with three living statues (dancers in white body makeup), a man, and a woman. The Terrence Karn Consortium provided wonderful live music from diverse instruments - a harp and an accordian, to name a few. Having taken many classes accompanied by Mr. Karn's inventive mix of percussion and other instruments, it was a treat to hear his more formalized work. The statues had a distinctive (dare I say statuesque?) style of movement, and the man seemed to be their creator. I never quite figured out how the woman fit in; most of the time she sat by the musicians. While this dance has unique elements, it could use a little more focus.

Shall We Dance? (movie), May 20, 2005, my living room

Shall We Dance is a perfectly charming movie from Japan about an office worker who learns ballroom dance. (There's an American version of this film now, but I'll get to that in a minute.) It doesn't sound like much of a premise, but in Japan there's a real social stigma attached to ballroom dancing. As the intro to the movie explains, in a country where husbands and wives don't even hold hands in public, dancing in someone's arms in public is almost unthinkable. I saw this movie back when it came out in 1997, but since it took me 30 minutes into the movie to realize that, I might as well have been watching it for the first time. Also, in the mean time, I've learned a little about ballroom and was able to recognize a few standard moves of the waltz. I also recognized the earrings worn by the women; they look better on the dance floor than they do in the store, but I still think they're a little too much. There's quite a bit of dancing in the movie, some of it by professionals and some by the students, but all of it enjoyable. The title of the film comes from The King and I, and the musical is refered to repeatedly. I loved the Japanese ballroom remix of "Hello Young Lovers." My favorite quote: "Dance is more than just the steps. Feel the music and just dance for sheer joy." So about the American version. Part of the effectiveness of the plot line is the combination and contradictions of East and West. It's disconcerting, for example, to be listening to the actors speaking in Japanese and suddenly hear "Slow, slow, quick quick." With the film set in America, that tension must be gone. Well, I'll rent that version next and let you know what I think!

The Body Speaks, May 13, 2005, San Jacinto College South

I went back to college last Friday night. Ok, it was someone else's college, but since all college dance productions have a certain flavor, I was reminded of my own college days. But enough about me. I admit to being pleasantly surprised by the quality of the SJCS dancers and the choreography. The show opened with the strongest piece, Rebecca Valls's "On the Wing." Unlike in Maximal Schnapper, these dancers were clearly meant to be birds. The eight dancers were fearless in their representation of chicks begging for food and adults flying in formation. I've seen this dance once before at Miller, but if I recall correctly, there were only six dancers that time. The additional dancers added to the effectiveness of the flock and chick tableaux. (ooh, French) White rods were occasionally used to extend the dancers "wingspans," to simple but elegant effect. "Nowhere Else to Go," choreographed by Victoria Loftin in collaboration with the dancers, was a powerful piece that I interpreted as being about refugees. The dance starts and ends with three dancers on the floor in separate pools of light. In between, the teeming masses stream across the stage in a fashion similar to what I saw in Arthropodic Animal: Insecta, although this time it was used to a more sinister effect as the dancers seemed to be fleeing something. Something you don't see every day in America is real flamenco dancing. "Fuerzas Liberadas," performed with exquisite style by Crystal Reyes, was a standout piece in the show. The choreography, by Sarita Salinas, was a tad underdeveloped; Ms. Reyes's movements did not make full use of the space, but she was so captivating it (almost) didn't matter. "...another beginning..." was awarded Gala recognition at the American College Dance Festival (2005). Michelle Manzanales's piece about exclusion transformed to acceptance had some nice moments, but structurally I didn't think it was as interesting as "Nowhere Else to Go." Crystal Audas did a nice job as the outsider who eventually wins over the crowd. Some of the other dances lacked clear emotional intent. Not all dances need to be narrative, but in some of the pieces I found myself wondering what the point was. "The Ticket," choreographed and danced by the lovely Fina Reisinger and Kristi Morrison, left me bewildered when it ended with one of the dancers putting her hand over the other's, because prior to that there had been very little interaction between the two of them. "Journey," by Susan Oliver, was well danced but needed more tension. "The Gathering," another piece by Susan Oliver, startly promisingly with cowled dancers moving to eerie Celtic music, but never devolped much beyond that and was unsuitable as the closing number for the show. In fact, there really wasn't a piece on the program that would have been a strong closer, but I would have put "...another beginning..." first and moved "On the Wing" to the end.

Dancing with the Stars

ABC has a new reality series starting June 1 called Dancing with the Stars. Celebrities (or near-celebrities) have been studying ballroom dance with professionals and will be performing live on the show with their professional partners. This is the American version of a show that has been produced in other countries as Strictly Come Dancing. (I keep trying to get my head around that name and can't. Any thoughts?) One wonders then how ABC feels justified in calling this a "totally unique and original series." It might be painful to watch, but how often do you get to see any kind of dance in primetime on a major network? I'm hoping that we'll get to see some of the professionals dance together!

A Tip for the Documentary-Inclined

Mad Hot Ballroom, a documentary about middle school kids learning and competing in ballroom dance, starts soon at a theater near you! Well... actually it starts tomorrow in New York City and May 20 in "select cities." (Sadly, Houston is not one of them. *grumbles*) Visit the official movie site here. Go ahead, you know you want to!

[5-25-05] I just noticed the tiny, inconspicuous up and down arrows on the website. The movie opens in Houston on June 3 at both the Angelika and Greenway theaters.

Musings on Dance in General

[In honor of what would be my father's 61st birthday, here's a philosophical post. Both of my parents taught me how to be an artist, but my father was the performer. He'll never be matched as Mother Ginger.] So why, you might ask, do I care so much about dancing? Dance is part of who I am; I have no memories of a time when I wasn't a dancer. When I was three years old I told my mom that I wanted to be like the "dancy girls" I saw on TV, so she signed me up for a Parks and Rec ballet class to see if it was a phase. It was no phase. I was serious enough that eventually I ended up in a pre-professional ballet training program when I was in high school, dancing six days a week. I decided not to pursue dance as a career, but there was no way I could give up dancing. I danced through college, even though my major was physics. I stopped dancing for a few years at the beginning of graduate school in the mistaken belief that I couldn't afford the classes. My knee taught me otherwise; after all those years my it had gotten worn down in such a way that muscle strength was compensating for the wear. My body had literally gotten addicted to dancing. I started performing with the local ballet company, and I experienced several moments onstage that I can only describe as epiphanies during which I realized just what it meant to me to be back performing. I know my advisor wasn't happy with me for frequently leaving the lab early for rehearsal (especially during production weeks), but I believe that if I hadn't been dancing, I wouldn't have finished my PhD at all. As my mom puts it, I don't dance because I want to, I dance because I have to. I am not complete without it.

Megawatt > Full Strength (Pilobolus), April 29, 2005, Jones Hall

This program is the first evening-length work by Pilobolus, which has been one of America's most provacative dance companies since its inception from a Dartmouth College dance class in 1971. With music by Primus, Radiohead, Squarepusher, Michael Rodach, Massive Attack, Eminem, Moby, Brian Eno, AK 1200, and Cursor Club, being in the audience felt more like being at a rock concert than a dance performance. The green lasers that spread patterns on the stage added to that effect. The dancers came on stage in a most unusual fashion: inchworm-crawling on their backs, side by side, straight from the wings. I marveled at their ability to stay in line, given that they weren't all the same height. Well, you know what they say about how to get to Carnegie Hall.... After much crawling and some endearing scooting, the dancers made it off the floor and into the air. They flung themselves to the floor with abandon, only to pop up and leap again. The kneepads helped soften the blows, but if I attempted this dance I would be covered in bruises after five minutes. My muscles were twitching, though - a sign that I really wanted to go try some of these moves for myself. I once again forgot my binoculars, and since I was sitting back in row AA there were several times I sorely wished for them. I sensed that facial expressions were telling half of the story, but I couldn't quite see them; however, there was still much to be enjoyed about the performance. In one duet the woman literally got inside the man's clothes - talk about invading your personal space! I was fascinated by a slow section in which the dancers created an airplane by "following" the sound across the stage with their focus. In another duet, this time with two men, one pestered the other in between bunny hops, exuding "Hey! Look at Me! Hey!" Eventually the second man found himself bunny-hopping against his will and finally gave in to the experience. If you want to get an idea of what good shape Pilobolus dancers are in, try lowering yourself almost to the floor with one leg while the other one is stretched straight in front of you. Not so bad, right? Now come back up. With only six cast members and a continuous 75-minute show, there were few moments that were obvious resting places for the dancers (like that slow section that always comes in the middle of ice skating long programs). The show did drag a little towards the end, but the last slow section was a meaningful comment on finding peace and how it inevitably gets swept away in the rush of today's lifestyle. I was surpised at how well six dancers could fill the stage, but with the frenetic activity and gravity-defying leaps, there probably wasn't room for more. The six dancers were Mark Fucik, Andrew Herro, Renee Jaworski, Otis Cook, Jenny Mendez, and Manelich Minnifee. It must have been a triumphant homecoming for Jenny Mendez, who graduated from Houston's High School for the Performing and Visual Arts. In case you were wondering where the name "Pilobolus" came from, their webpage helpfully explains that it's a phototropic zygomycete. In layman's terms, that's a "sun-loving fungus that grows in barnyards and pastures." You don't suppose one of the original company members learned about it during a biology lecture, do you? A dance company founded by nerds - I like it.