I was fortunate enough to get a free ticket to go see Trisha Brown Dance Company at the ICA last Friday night (thanks, Merli!) perform Works from 1978-2011. They danced
Foray Forêt,
Watermotor,
Opal Loop and
Les Yeux et l'âme . Major points for lifting the cyc at the top of the second act to let the audience drool over the view of Boston Harbor and the city skyline- the most beautiful nighttime backdrop! While I could summarize, and perhaps I will further down the digital page, but what is more present in my current thinking is the huge span of difference between movement and choreography.
Dance, dancing, choreography... So many individuals (perhaps that don't base their career in creating) view these as the same thing, but Friday night's show refreshed my opinion on the WORLD of difference between them. For example, I enjoy Trisha Brown's movement (as movement)... I enjoy dancing it too. It straddles this excellent ravine of full-out/total-body physicality and flail; precision in knowing where the physical edge in movement lies without crossing the invisible and millimeter-thin border to sloppy dancing. Her dancers are such impressive entities themselves, always making her highly active movement look effortless whether they are in the air, doing something demanding of strength, gliding into and out of the floor without so much of an extra gasp, etc. I can only imagine it would be amazingly easy to misplace ones arms, or have 1 percent too little energy, and the movement would look awful. I think anyone trying to make a career in dance performance would learn a great deal from Trisha Brown's dancers.
Moving on from my movement quality monologue, in the first and third pieces I became amazingly aware of how great movement doesn't always equal great choreography. The third piece (
Opal Loop- 1980) felt a lot like it could have been tacked onto the end of the first piece (
Foray Forêt- 1990) and it could have just been a continuation of the first, if the costumes had been the same. While I am sure this sounds fairly ignorant (I am well educated- and in dance- I swear!), I felt there was no real 'why' behind the pieces, and I had a difficult time staying focused on the work as an audience member. I don't need a storyline or a gimmick or a narrative to watch dance, but I at least appreciate seeing some kind of spark of motivation that a choreographer possessed when they were creating.
Foray Forêt opened the show, and featured several dancers in golden costumes (at times giving me a subtle impression of Egyptian garb, at other times space-like) showcasing their great Trisha technique while a marching band roamed the halls of the ICA. The movement was constant and ever shifting, it did not give my eyes or brain a break as it kept going, going, going. New dancers were introduced and subtracted, there were fleeting moments of partnering, costume pieces were added in the wings, and we never ever got to be introduced to the roving band. I could have come to peace with this piece (hahaha), if when the second act opened with
Opal Loop I hadn't felt like the entire first half of the piece was identical in choreography to
Foray Forêt-- same bodied, ever-shifting movement on a quartet of dancers (two males, two females) wearing four different costumes. If it was a continuation of the first piece, it would read exactly the same. After said-first half, however, there was a huge shift where the four dancers began duet work, either with a partner, or removed from their partner but maintaining the visual link of the duet. I appreciated the break in the constant stream of evolving movement, but as a choreographer I couldn't come up with validation for this huge shift and simplification. I was frustrated with myself, as I don't think there always needs to be an answer, but to watch these two major pieces with the same issue floating around in my head left me very unresolved. I saw the shifting and rotating patterns of travel on the stage, dancers making loops and intersections between each other, but I wanted a bit more of a connection or reason.
While I do think Trisha Brown is a huge and important figure in the history and dynamic of the dance world (and there were pieces I appreciated, more on this below), I feel like many choreographers, small and major alike, demonstrate the difference between dance and choreography. An individual might give the world's best and most satisfying technique class, but this doesn't mean they consistently produce brilliant work on stage. Another individual might create stunning choreography that appeals to diverse crowds, but might give an awful class. A movement style might feel wonderful on the body, but look quite inadequate in the stage space. I am sure my point is obvious without more examples! Where this led me and my thoughts on Friday night, especially coming off a recent showing of my work and approaching teaching my first open company class, is where I fit in on this scale. I am satisfied with the quality of my choreography of recent, but how will my class go? Also, do I really have my own technique, or will only years of work in this industry lead to such a refinement and classification of my movement style?
What was really beautiful in Brown's last piece of the night,
Les Yeux et l'âme (2011), was the balance of movement, pauses, partnering, and music. I didn't realize this piece was a compilation of work she created while restaging Pygmalion recently, but it read as a cohesive work. With plentiful glimpses of the Trisha Brown movement we all know, there were slower portions where I could sit and enjoy what was happening across the stage and in the various couplings. Each dancer utilized their physicality, but presented it from a pleasant place. Each section or phrase seemed to easily roll into the next, and I was engaged and looking forward to where the piece might lead. Also, Brown worked with the music wonderfully. There wasn't a focus on matching up the movement and choreography (ala Mark Morris), but they seemed to co-habitate well, occasionally crossing paths but serving more to gently support each other from afar. As I haven't touched upon it... I also did enjoy
Watermotor; an intense and brief solo danced by a man in pale clothing amidst a cool blue puddle of down light. I think I mostly appreciated it for its overlap with lighting, though I was impressed with the performer's consistency and endurance.
I feel sort of guilty and under-qualified for giving this show such a mediocre review, but I think the program itself didn't help. I understand Trisha Brown as a choreographer is a post-modern maven and I have seen other pieces she's created (in the more-abstract realm) that work for me and really speak for themselves. The feel of the show on Friday night was too much of the same, though, for pieces 1-3 before a shift in piece 4... I would be interested to see if a change in repertory presented would create a change in my attitude as a viewer.
