And oh, how they danced
Apr. 18th, 2019 09:52 pmAs ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bibliofile promised, the Hubbard Street Dance Chicago performance was fantastic. Their first two pieces, in particular, were -- of all the art I have seen in recent memory -- the most exciting for me (and likewise for my viewing companion J). Both were choreographed by Crystal Pite. I am no kind of scholar of dance, but on the strength of these examples I would follow her work wherever I could find it.
(Hey! She's Canadian!)
The first work was "A Picture of You Falling." It began with a voice that would iterate and elaborate phrases throughout the work, reminding me a little of Laurie Anderson circa the 1980s, though less preoccupied with cliche.
"This is your voice," a female-coded voice, British. "This is a picture of you." Enter a man in a suit, an almost disappointing sign for "the generic" -- then his path is crossed by a woman in a similar suit -- again, that sense of almost-disappointment -- oh, will she only enter the centre of the narrative through his signification? Will he still define the terms of this dance? -- but then the coat comes off and she begins an exploration of movement, extension -- "This is a picture of you leaning back" -- it becomes her dance -- and she gives a solo performance of such strength.
Another dancer. "This is a picture of you, falling. Knees, hip, hands, elbows, head. This is how you collapse. This is the sound of your heart hitting the floor." A kinetic, impossibly flexible performer abstracts and -- yes, again -- elaborates and iterates -- the phases of falling, through some kind of half-narrated dreamlike repetition, like trauma, relived and distorted -- the noise of traffic, metallic crunch, door slam -- I really felt, watching nothing but this solo dancer's body jolt on a bare stage, that his body might fly into pieces. It was terrifying.
Later there is a room, a relationship, a pas de deux of striking equality of power and movement, seeming (to me at least) largely cleansed of the gendered tics of dance roles -- "they danced each other," said J., and I thought that was perfect.
The second piece, "The Other You", is a mirrored work for two male dancers -- uncanny, comic, destabilizing. J. thought it was about depression and I thought it was about power.
I found a great quote on the website of Pite's troupe, Kidd Pivot: "Your actions are pivotal—each change of direction extends your perspective of the possible." Like that.
Here are some clips from a 2012 performance -- but honestly I think the one we saw was more powerful -- sharper, cleaner, stronger, more focused.
* * * * *
And! LES BALLETS TROCKADERO are coming next season! (The drag ballet troupe that Brooke Lynn Heights performed with for five years!)
bibliofile promised, the Hubbard Street Dance Chicago performance was fantastic. Their first two pieces, in particular, were -- of all the art I have seen in recent memory -- the most exciting for me (and likewise for my viewing companion J). Both were choreographed by Crystal Pite. I am no kind of scholar of dance, but on the strength of these examples I would follow her work wherever I could find it.(Hey! She's Canadian!)
The first work was "A Picture of You Falling." It began with a voice that would iterate and elaborate phrases throughout the work, reminding me a little of Laurie Anderson circa the 1980s, though less preoccupied with cliche.
"This is your voice," a female-coded voice, British. "This is a picture of you." Enter a man in a suit, an almost disappointing sign for "the generic" -- then his path is crossed by a woman in a similar suit -- again, that sense of almost-disappointment -- oh, will she only enter the centre of the narrative through his signification? Will he still define the terms of this dance? -- but then the coat comes off and she begins an exploration of movement, extension -- "This is a picture of you leaning back" -- it becomes her dance -- and she gives a solo performance of such strength.
Another dancer. "This is a picture of you, falling. Knees, hip, hands, elbows, head. This is how you collapse. This is the sound of your heart hitting the floor." A kinetic, impossibly flexible performer abstracts and -- yes, again -- elaborates and iterates -- the phases of falling, through some kind of half-narrated dreamlike repetition, like trauma, relived and distorted -- the noise of traffic, metallic crunch, door slam -- I really felt, watching nothing but this solo dancer's body jolt on a bare stage, that his body might fly into pieces. It was terrifying.
Later there is a room, a relationship, a pas de deux of striking equality of power and movement, seeming (to me at least) largely cleansed of the gendered tics of dance roles -- "they danced each other," said J., and I thought that was perfect.
The second piece, "The Other You", is a mirrored work for two male dancers -- uncanny, comic, destabilizing. J. thought it was about depression and I thought it was about power.
I found a great quote on the website of Pite's troupe, Kidd Pivot: "Your actions are pivotal—each change of direction extends your perspective of the possible." Like that.
Here are some clips from a 2012 performance -- but honestly I think the one we saw was more powerful -- sharper, cleaner, stronger, more focused.
* * * * *
And! LES BALLETS TROCKADERO are coming next season! (The drag ballet troupe that Brooke Lynn Heights performed with for five years!)
