The Rogue Revue

Dancers in Faye Driscoll's "Thank You For Coming," photo Julie Lemberger MARCH 16, 2014 Driscoll arrives to literally break things up after the five performers—Giulia Carotenuto, Sean Donovan, Alicia Ohs, Brandon Washington, and Nikki Zialcita—form one long human noodle, rolling into our laps. After splintering apart the platform into the benches from which it was constructed, she politely asks the audience to stand aside while she puts together our new seating, from which we watch as the performers unfold into morsels of full-out, wild dancing, elaborate tableaux vivants, and an extensive stop-motion scene. The full review originally appeared on ArtsMeme; read it here.

Sarah Michelson's "Devotion Study #1—The American Dancer," photo Paula Court. January 26, 2014 INITIAL REACTIONS Walking from the 77th Street 6 stop to the Whitney Museum, my companion asks if I think Sarah Michelson is the Merce Cunningham of her generation. I think of the 2012 New York Times piece ‘’A Critics’ Conversation: Modern Dance Madness’’ in which their honors Macaulay, La Rocco, Seibert, and Kourlas ‘’discuss’’ the state of modern dance. Michelson’s name was thrown around a good deal, often in a sentence with Cunningham. I remind my friend that I’ve never seen her work. He hasn’t either. We’re due for an education. A pliable painted floor like too-thick nail polish, covering the whole gallery but impossible to see except under our own feet. Why the demise of raised seating? A giant, designed space / design space. Michelson’s playground and arena. She unleashes the dancers like wind-up gladiators. A voiceover dialogue references a dramatized scholar / maker script, as in an interview where the interviewer possesses perhaps an inappropriate reverence for the interviewee. Then: so what do you want to talk about? Silence. Jumping. I recognize trends but, having not seen Michelson’s work before, don’t definitely know if she is an innovator or a conduit (I suspect the former). (1) talking about the work concurrently with its presentation (2) popular music (3) repetition (4) the wide deep fourth position and second position associated with gaga technique (this she certainly did not invent, but has repurposed nicely in accordance with an interest in the geometric possibilities of the human form) For the first hour of 4 I do not process the passage of time; then I look at my watch because it is in my peripheral vision. Time passes oddly because there are no markers. It does not seem that ‘’sections’’ ‘’end.’’ The dancers charge ahead, interacting with each other and the space by virtue of their mutual presence and little more, accomplishing tasks. Five scoreboard-style tickers clock their winnings. Hair – once sculpturally poufy – loses its starch. Is anyone counting? I empathize with the desire to send a body hurtling through space when repetition has begun to grow interminable, but it’s unsatisfying anyway, or not as satisfying as watching John Hoobyar jump again and again to the point of actual collapse while the final movement of Glass’s IN THE UPPER ROOM blares. Q: is it an endurance contest? Is it a virtuosity contest? Is it an accuracy contest? Is it a contest of spirit? Is it a test of memory? Is it an actual contest at all? A: more. Dear administrators at the Whitney Museum: please utilize a system for your standby line that does not require waiting outside in 20˚ weather for over half an hour. Please.

Reggie Wilson is certain of himself. This confidence shows in his hands, crossed in front of his body as he stands onstage at the BAM Harvey Theater, gazing out at the audience. They are strong, durable hands, and minutes later when they are rapidly packing masses of tinsel into a suitcase, they display no trace of tension. They are the hands of a maker who knows and believes in his taste. Moses(es), which makes its New York premiere this week at BAM, is ripe with this confidence. It finds form in familiar structures — sections weaving in and out of each other, ensemble washes of the space, juxtaposed duets. These conventions, paired with articulate choreography and deliberate performance, generate a work that is at once watchable and fresh, for rather than trickling into trope or pastiche, Wilson seems freed by formality. His choreography is ranging, risky, tumultuous yet controlled and, more often than not, direct of line and initiation. Where the work departs from familiar territory lies more in what is less obviously seen. the full review originally appeared in DancePulp

Kate Weare is afraid of theatricality. She said it herself in a discussion following Friday evening’s performance of Dark Lark, her latest work for her eponymous company, which is currently in residence at the BAM Fisher (the first company to hold this place). Perhaps, then, Dark Lark enacts a fantasy of overcoming this fear; bold, evocative, strewn with narrative implications and visual references, the work unspools like cinema. Dark Lark begins with sound, a score composed and played live by Christopher Lancaster. Brian Jones’ lighting casts Lancaster in a lavender glow while illuminating Kurt Perschke’s set, several large geometric forms reminiscent of crystals, origami, or Dorothea Rockburne’s current exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art. Lancaster is soon joined by Leslie Kraus and her companion, an artificial monarch butterfly... the full review originally appeared on DancePulp

On November 1st, SLAM – the Streb Lab for Action Mechanics – opened its Williamsburg doors for the first in a series of discussions under the umbrella of Risky Talking. This series, funded by Dance/USA’s Engaging Dance Audiences program, asks attendees to participate in a “no-holds-barred discussion,” to “say what you think,” and, at least on this inaugural evening, to answer the question: What is a real risk? Everyone present wrote his or her answer on a slip of paper, placing it on a plate for collection, and for one terrifying moment I thought we were going to hear panel member Bill T. Jones read each anonymous risk aloud in that prophetic voice, but Elizabeth Streb had other plans. Upon entering the performance/work space at SLAM, viewers observed the reinforced rigging and padded landing zone where Streb’s work is created and practiced. To either side of this platform were two transparent boxes, open at the top, inside both of which were stacked cinder blocks. The boxes were illuminated; the dichotomy of light and weight foreshadowed what was to come. Over an hour later, when our risky thoughts had been collected, Streb and partner Laura Flanders placed them atop the cinder blocks and gave the cue for twin bowling balls to drop from the ceiling and crush them to bits, sending puffs of concrete dust and shards of plate flying. the full article originally appeared on DancePulp

The final program of the 2013 Fall For Dance festival is ready to be loved. It is vulnerable, expressive, virtuosic, and, at its best, proud. This whole festival is an opportunity for discovery, a breeding ground for critique, an welcoming entry via fine examples of current dance. Program 5 is diverse and provocative, providing a perfect closing note. the full review originally appeared on DancePulp

The idea of dancer as specialist seems obvious: dance is a singular art form, practiced by skilled professionals with very specific training. But what happens when that is taken to the next level: when dancers are trained in one distinct method, one genre – steeped in the language of a particular choreographer or movement? The fourth program in the Fall For Dance festival reveals something of the possibilities in this approach. the full review originally appeared on DancePulp

The Fall For Dance festival, currently celebrating its tenth year, aims to create “a context for discussion, discovery and newfound enthusiasm” for a diverse audience (Susan Reiter’s program notes), offering low ticket prices and a range of accessible, international dance. This year’s roster offers twenty companies over the course of a dozen performances in two venues, and highlights three world premieres commissioned by the festival. The first of these commissions to premiere was Justin Peck’s The Bright Motion, performed by Sara Mearns (New York City Ballet) and Casey Herd (Het Nationale Ballet). I believe that the core of the earth can be found somewhere around Mearns’ spine. Endless length emanates from her center, through fire-dagger limbs and the kind of lines you could write a haiku about; elegant, yet impossibly direct and efficient. She is perhaps the most exciting American ballerina of her generation. the full review originally appeared on DancePulp