Dances with Houston: Karen Stokes talks about HOMETOWN

Leslie Scates in HOMETOWN
Photo by Ed McCullough

Karen Stokes danced in NYC and abroad with David Gordon, Larry Clark, and Stephan Koplowitz. Since 1988, Stokes has choreographed over 40 original works in the contemporary genre, which have been performed nationally. Stokes has also choreographed musicals and plays for such organizations as the Alley Theater in Houston and the Shakespeare Festival. In 2005, her company Travesty Dance Group, performed in Houston, Cleveland, and Philadelphia. TDG premiered Stokes' Pronoun Pieces at Big Range Dance Festival in June 2005. Stokes has a B.F.A. from Ohio State University, a M.F.A. from UCLA, and is a graduate of HSPVA in Houston. She has served on the faculty at Connecticut College and at Kent State University. Stokes is Director of Dance at the University of Houston and she’s about to unveil her second rendition of HOMETOWN, her ode to all things Houston.

Houston is an underdog kind of place. It's the 4th largest city in the US. Who knew? Does your love of the place stem from its underrated status?
KS: I do love cheering for the underdog. After all, I am in modern dance. So yes, that is part of my affection. But I'm not blind in my regard for Houston. I can be as critical as the next Houstonian, but I don't want to hear bad-mouthing from outsiders who have never been here. Ours is a city that takes time to unveil its charm. Houston has a ton of things in its favor, I think it is mundane and boring to focus on weaknesses. It’s healthy to recognize what needs to be improved, especially if the improvement lies in setting aside more land for public parks. Or in encouraging philanthropy for the arts, okay, why not say it, funding for DANCE!

You call Hometown a modern dance musical. When did you get the urge to merge singing into your dancing?
KS: I took vocal lessons all through my nine years of living in NYC. It was something I enjoyed, and that my teachers seemed to think I had a knack for. When I was a grad student at UCLA in 1992, I asked a staff musician to compose a vocal score for a piece I was choreographing. I told her, "I want the rhythm to be like this, the melody to have these qualities, the sounds to be like this" She finally said, "Why don't you compose it, Karen?" I was shocked. What do I know about composing? But the seed was planted; I went home and wrote a vocal score. This early experience with composing vocals set me up to continue composing for my dances. Over the last fourteen years I have written around 16 songs, usually using poetry for lyrics. Learning how to do music editing on the computer has also aided my explorations in creating soundscapes for my dance.

I understand your dancers double as singers. Dancers are often nervous about making sound. How did the audition process go?
KS: Well, I haven't had an audition in six years. I had one the first year I moved here, and hired a great cast for the piece Perhaps By Tomorrow. Since then, as I became more familiar with the dancers in Houston. I have always invited dancers to be in various projects. I have had individuals enquire about auditioning recently, so I suppose I need to re-consider having an audition at some point, to be fair.

So, how do you get modern dancers to open their mouths so often and so well?
KS: I don't tell the dancers they will be singing until we are in rehearsal. I use the old "take them by surprise" method. They are good humored about it (even when horrified). Most do not sing at all, but it turns out that dancers are amazingly versatile when given the chance. Of course, having plenty of rehearsal time to get comfortable with three-part harmony is key. I always tell them, "You don't need to sound like a singer in my piece, but you do need to hold your note." Basically, we are not trying to compete with "real" singers - I want dancers who sing like real people who happen to be able to hit three-part harmony. Well, perhaps it sounds like a fantasy, but I've had good luck so far. Plus, there are a couple of dancers that I know in the community who do sing, and I always try to get them on board when I have a big song show. For this version of HOMETOWN, I even brought in one person as a "ringer-singer" but I'm not telling you who.

You can't talk about Houston without some mention of outer space. We are still trying to live down that "Houston, we have a problem line form Apollo 11. How do space exploration and modern dance play together?
Oh gosh, I guess this is where I admit we use the overused "Houston, we have a problem" in the section "Space" of HOMETOWN. It’s part of a soundscape I designed that incorporates recordings from NASA. What can I say, I fell victim to its fame. But it is great stuff, isn't it?

There is so much to say on your question regarding modern dance and space exploration. I love the pun, for one thing. What else is modern dance, but an exploration of space through movement. More to the point, there are multiple possibilities using any thematic material in dance. At the time I created "Space," I was thinking about the highest representation of the human spirit - the fundamental desire we have to explore, understand, and hope. So this piece does not dwell so much on human error, of which there have been many in our space explorations, but on the spirit that drives and buoys the exploration. It is a reflective section, and I hope it imparts a sense of possibility, of awe, and of human interaction. Having said that, it seems supremely ambitious and huge, but I don't mean it to be. In the end, hope is a simple experience.

I get the feeling that hometown is a cheery piece, a huge turnaround from The Pronoun Piece's grim scenario. Can you comment on the contrast between these two works?
KS: Well, HOMETOWN has many cheery moments. But it also has moments of thoughtful repose, even sadness. But it is not grim. Pronoun Pieces came from almost an opposite commentary on the human race than, say, "Space." In "Space" I thought about hope, kindness, and life in all its wonderful manifestations. In Pronouns, I thought about the repeating cycles of domination, repression, and power in human history. The bad end of "history repeats." I was interested in creating an exaggerated version of reality in which the players were being manipulated and put through maniacal cycles that did not lead to peace.

You have spoken lovingly about your dancers. How do they contribute to what we are going to see?
KS: The cast is great. We have a lot of fun in rehearsal . . . it's the berries (as my mom would say). The original cast members (seven returning) defined the parts that they play - each of them has a featured solo or a duet that picked up on some of their attributes. We have five new dancers, who are fitting into roles beautifully. Since they did not "create" the roles, they have the task of finding their own individuality within a part. They bring fresh ideas to the parts, and this gives the work new life. Each dancer is a unique individual, and this interests me. HOMETOWN is about a community and I want it to be a diverse community. I don't want a bunch of dancers that look the same in my work. I hope at the performance that the audience will feel that they are part of our lovely community.

If people see this dance will they want to move here, or get the next train out?
KS: Oh - definitely move here! It's a feel good piece.

What's your next big project?
KS: The next project will be a repertory concert in the fall 2006, or early winter 2007. I'll be doing a couple of new short works, as well as re-visiting some of my older rep pieces. After that I will be mounting of my 20th Century Europe Trilogy with 16 performers, a pianist, an actor, a drummer. It's been done in sections, but never as an evening-length. It's slated for 2008 because we will need time to mount it both creatively and financially. Travesty Dance Group has national plans too, my colleague Kim Karpanty in Cleveland is doing a Rock n' Roll show that I'll be doing a piece for in the fall.

The Hobby Center presents HOMETOWN on March 3 & 4 at 7:30 pm, at Zilkha Hall, 800 Bagby St. Visit www.thehobbycenter.org or call (713) 315-2525.

Lake Superior: Stanton Welch's New Swan Lake

Mireille Hassenboehler in Swan Lake
Photo by Drew Donovan

A forlorn maiden dressed in a white trumpet-sleeved gown floats in a delicate boat among the reeds on a still lake. She looks steeped in thought, flushed with the glow of newfound love, and unsure of her next move. An impending tragedy pervades the air, and she seems to be holding a secret. For some, this is just a languid scene in an old romantic painting. For Stanton Welch, the gifted and ambitious artistic director of Houston Ballet for more than two years now, the painting sparked the flame that launched his brilliant new production of Swan Lake.

Welch knew he had found the inspiration for his swan in John William Waterhouse’s Pre-Raphaelite painting, The Lady of Shalott. “I’ve always felt the painting was linked to Swan Lake for me in some way,” says Welch. “It’s one of those iconic images that just stayed with me.” The Pre-Raphaelite movement revolted against the reign of Academic Neo-Classicism. They painted dreamy, but realistic, portraits of knights and maidens. Welch is glad they did.

Ballet dancers live and breathe Swan Lake on a daily basis; they hear the music in class and in rehearsal. “Everyone imagines how they might do their own Swan,” Welch observes. Welch took his time getting to know the company and waiting for the right confluence of events to mount his spectacular $1.6 million production, an unabashedly lavish affair that at once pays tribute to the best of ballet’s past as it pushes Houston’s premiere company headlong into a smart and sexy future. This is a Swan Lake like Houston has never, ever seen.

Welch, 36, has moved into year three of his leadership with grace and the artistic authority of an old pro. “This is an important time for the company,” Welch says, adding that recreating Swan Lake is a bold and important move for any ballet company. “It’s a bit like buying a house and making a lifetime commitment.” Houston Ballet’s previous production was one of group’s oldest productions and it was starting to show its age. Tutus and sets only last so long, and these were on their last legs. Although dance companies often share other productions, this generosity doesn’t extend to Swan Lake. A company’s Swan Lake is like its signature—they need their own.

To get the steeped-in-magic look so captured in Waterhouse’s Pre-Raphaelite painting, Welch went to the acclaimed New Zealand designer, Kristian Fredrikson. Welch had collaborated with Fredrikson four times so far in his career with stunning results. “Fredrikson loved the idea,” says Welch. Houston audiences were spellbound by his surreal production of Pecos Bill in Welch’s Tales of Texas.

This was Fredrikson’s fourth Swan Lake, and, as fate would have it, his last; he died suddenly in November 2005. “I could do Swan Lakes forever,” Fredrikson had said. The sets and designs were complete before his untimely death from Pneumonia and his assistant will be bringing the project to completion. “The piece will be a glorious tribute to Fredrikson,” says Thomas Boyd, Houston Ballet’s production director.

Fredrikson sets the lake scene by creating dazzling reflective surfaces that hint toward the heroine’s true habitat. In the designer’s watery world, the lake is everywhere—tree trunks coated with water reflections, rich cut-velvet gowns with shimmering underskirts and pearl-encrusted sequined bodices. The Queen don’s a gown crafted from Oscar de la Renta’s gold and burgundy velvet burnout fabric.

Even evil sports a new look. Rothbart, the part reptile, part dragon, mean guy wears a body-hugging leather suit that took nearly 600 hours to construct. His costume contains a dizzying array of leather textures from polished surfaces to a snake skin look. Think medieval batman with scales. He’s bound to make a splash when he enters with his entourage of four sinister but sleek black swans. Meanwhile, the white swans’ wispy tutus suggest a feathery presence without going overboard on the bird imagery. The simplicity stops there; luminous cut-velvet gowns pearl-encrusted sequined bodices with shimmering underskirts bring the party scenes to life.

Welch, known for his gorgeous, cutting-edge contemporary ballets, is updating the story for modern audiences. “I’m playing with the scenario,” says Welch. “I intend to give the ballet a contemporary slant, with complex dramas and a 21st century feel and pace.”

Good and evil are not so black and white in Welch’s world. The characters are complex, with more three-dimensional personalities. He’s streamlining the piece from four to three acts, packing the drama into the pivotal second act. And Stanton’s Swan strays off the usual path in the first act: Prince Siegfried first meets Odette as a maiden and not a bewitched swan. Welch reveres the usual order which means Odette is a swan by day and a woman by night, which opens up the eveningwear options. And, of course, she is wearing a fabulous white gown that resembles the wistful woman in the painting.

In the newly imagined opening scene It seems that Siegfried’s mother, eager to marry off her son, throws a ball so he can meet all the contenders at once. Fredrikson designed an opulent golden ballroom with two gigantic golden angels guarding center staircase, and there’s a glowing mosaic background. Siegfried expects Odette, his lovely new maiden to show up, Instead Odile, the evil black swan, masquerades as Odette. And, yes, she’s dressed to kill in a glimmering black sequined gown. Siegfried falls for the sexy bad girl thinking she’s Odette and confesses his love to the wrong woman. The right woman, Odette, shows up and things go downhill from there.

Welch highlights the moral dilemma by making Siegfried’s choice to pursue for the more sexually avert Odile the centerpiece of the drama. In traditional productions Odette (the white swan) and Odile (the evil black swan) never appear on stage together because they are danced by the same ballerina. In Welch’s production Odette and Odile are still danced by the same woman, but, due to the miracle of stage technology, will appear on stage together. “Through some stage trickery I bring Odette into the room to face her betrayer,” says Welch.

Although Welch is making some substantial changes to the classic choreography, some elements remain untouched. Welch is leaving Odile’s famous 32 whip-fast turns known as Fouettes, alone. “The girls expect them and want them,” says Welch. “It’s part of being a dancer to tackle those difficult moments.” The familiar and well-loved White Swan Pas de Deux will remain untouched. “It’s a masterpiece,” says Welch.

Welch will be giving the men more strenuous dancing to do. When Swan Lake first premiered in 1877, men were mostly ornamental, standing around looking good. Welch’s current crop of uber-technical men show off athletic bravura at every chance. “I’m upping the ante on their stress level,” says Welch.

At the end of the day, this new Swan Lake will pay homage to the original, by all accounts and enduring classic. “It’s a very modern love story,” Welch says. “The trap of the going for the more glamorous one, everybody lives that experience.”

Houston Ballet presents Stanton Welch’s Swan Lake Feb. 23-March 5 at Brown Theater, Wortham Theater Center, 501 Texas Ave., 713.227.ARTS, http://www.houstonballet.org/.

Reprinted from Houston.

Always a Revelation: Alvin Ailey's Dance Legacy

Photo by Paul Kolnik

Dance lovers from all over the world recognize the famous photograph of the proud bowing dancers with hovering arms that seem to stretch across the stage and beyond. In that moment, choreographer Alvin Ailey captured a lifetime of struggle, resolve, and achievement. Today, the soulful images of Ailey’s 1960 masterpiece, Revelations, are embedded in the psyche of American Dance.

Ailey may very well be the most famous dance artist from Texas. He was only 29 when he created his famous dance and it was only his 10th ballet. He drew on memories of life from his rural Baptist church, images from Brueghal’s paintings, and the legendary writings of Langston Hughes and James Baldwin. “Revelations began with the music,” wrote Ailey. “I was enthralled with the music I heard in church.” Revelations has been seen by more people in the world than any other dance, and it’s one of the few fully endowed dances.

There’s no doubt that the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater is a phenomenal success, and perhaps the only company in dance history that has gained momentum after the death of its founder. “Ailey is arguably the most important African American choreographer in the short history of modern dance,” writes Thomas DeFranz in his book, Dancing Revelations: Alvin Ailey’s Embodiment of African American Culture. “He created a body of dance work that shaped African American participation in American Modern dance in the thirty-year period before his death.” The Ailey Company has performed 170 works by 65 choreographers. The company’s touring schedule was simply unprecedented for the early days of modern dance. As early as 1962 Ailey embarked on a State Department tour of the Far East, Asia, and Australia.
After Ailey’s death in 1989, Judith Jamison assumed the helm as Artistic Director. Jamison joined the company in 1965 and was most famous for dancing Cry, Ailey’s tribute to African American women. "I hope I'm a continuation of Alvin's vision. He has left me a road map. It's very clear. It works,” Jamison writes in her autobiography, Dancing Spirit.

Just because the company bears Ailey’s name doesn’t mean audiences are going to see a whole evening of Ailey’s choreography. His mission went beyond presenting his own work. From the very beginning, Ailey nurtured the talent around him. Works by outstanding African American choreographers Donald Mac, Talley Beatty, Eleo Pomare, and Geoffrey Holder were in the early repertory. The stewarding of the next generation of choreographers continues under Jamison’s direction through the Ailey New Choreography Initiative.

Today, an artistic team searches for the right mix of new choreographers that will challenge this uber-capable group of dancers. Ronald K. Brown, one of the most celebrated new artists of the decade, is one such choreographer. His work, Ife/My Heart (which means "my heart, the way God loves me" in Yoruba), delves into the territory of spiritual redemption, and contains both a feeling of tribute and resonance with Revelations. Brown is marvelously adept at using the mighty talents of the Ailey dancers. The New York Times identified him as “one of the few choreographers that’s rethinking what dance can do.”

Jamison has also blossomed into a choreographer of note. Love Stories is collaboration with Modern dance wonder Robert Battle and Hip-Hop renegade Rennie Harris, set to music by Stevie Wonder. The piece was inspired by the idea of “Sankofa” the Akan word which means “go back” (Sanko) and “take” (fa). The concept means that we don’t know where we are going until we know where we have been. “Love Stories is about whatever a dancer gets from being in a studio alone in front of a mirror…the solitude of that place,” says Jamison. “It’s about trying to be as honest with oneself as possible. That is what Alvin was always about….bringing us to our true selves.”

Also on the program is David Parson’s signature strobe-lit solo, Caught, a perennial audience favorite. Even if you are allergic to modern dance you will find something to love in Parson’s frozen-in-midair antics. “Everybody on the planet has dreamt of flying,” Parsons says. “And it’s an incredible thing to stumble upon as an artist…to realize when you ask that question, you can’t find anybody who hasn’t dreamt of flying.”

The star system has not gone out of fashion at Ailey At the moment, Alicia J. Graf, formerly of Dance Theater of Harlem, is garnering attention from audiences and the press. Dwana Adiaha Smallwood, a ten-year veteran, is another dancer making waves with her rendition of Cry. “It’s a ballet that carries so much history and meaning,” says Smallwood. “I haven’t lived enough to really tell that story but I try my best.”

Ailey dancers, known for their uncanny versatility and strength, are trained in Horton technique. Ailey is famous for calling Horton a “modern tops and ballet bottoms” approach. The lower body is strong and angular while the upper body remains totally expressive. Revelations draws from the Horton techniques in its choreographic language.

The New York Times reports the company has been seen by an estimated 21,000,000 fans in 48 states and 68 countries in six continents. Today the company tours 16 weeks a year nationally and internationally. In 2004, the company moved into their permanent Manhattan home, the Joan Weill Center for Dance, a state-of-the-art training center and company base. With its glamorous new home, a team of the finest dancers and an ever-evolving repertory, the legacy of Alvin Ailey remains secure.

Houston audiences will get a chance to see what all the hoopla is all about because Revelations closes every show. “The ballet has a life of its own. Sometimes I think, Oh Lord, you really want me to dance this ballet again?” says Smallwood. “Then the music comes on and my heart opens up.”

Reprinted from Artshouston

SPA presents Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater on February 17-19 at Jones Hall. Call 713-222-4SPA or visit www.spahouston.org.

Tending the Field: A Talk with Field Facilitator Toni Valle

Photo by Teresa O'Conner

With quiet persistence, the field has changed the New York performing arts scene. It has created a heightened awareness of and place to search for clear, personal artistic voices. In the midst of tempestuous times for art making, The Field insists on the importance of these voices.

- Tere O'Connor - "Bessie" New York Dance & Performance Award
Winner

Fieldwork is a rigorous 10-week workshop designed to help artists hone their work through honest, non-directive peer feedback. An experienced facilitator, who is also creating work, guides the process that culminates in an informal showing. Since 1986, The field has served over 10,000 artists and reached over 30,000 audience members with 15 sites outside of New York City. Houston has been a Fieldwork site for a decade now. I had the privileged of being the Houston’s second facilitator for three years. Toni Valle, the current facilitator, brings us up to date.

The Field must have crossed the decade mark here in Houston. How long have you been involved?

TV: In 1999, I was introduced to Fieldwork through Karen Stokes. She had recommended it to help my choreography evolve. I became a facilitator in 2001 and have been ever since.When I facilitated I was a stickler on the rules. The artist never introduces or defends the work after a showing. Has that loosened up a bit? We were the early hard-core fielders.TV: No. Sara Draper is harder on this point than I am, but over the years, I have realized the importance of this rule and have been better at spotting it. This rule is to protect the integrity of the work and artist, as well as the feedback. Anything outside of the work influences the feedback given. We want the feedback to be as genuine and honest as possible without outside information. We are allowed to give a title and maybe a one-liner - something the audience might read in a program before they see the piece. The only exception is a script, where the author may give us stage directions or info that the audience would see if it were produced.There is no defending the work! We foster the idea that the work can stand alone!

In my day the facilitator showed work as well to take the same risk as the participants. How has the experience of showing your own work enriched your job as a facilitator?

TV: It keeps me raw and involved in the process. I am as anxious to hear feedback today as I was when I started. Otherwise, I think I would slip into a "teaching" role and become emotionally detached. I also stay tuned into the camaraderie of the group - we are all friends and fellow artists and I just introduce the rules and keep a timer. Oh, I also help organize the show - but even then, we all pitch in together to create it.

Why don't more choreographers participate? Do you think artists really want peer feedback?

TV: I think writers are more open to the process of discussing - talking is part of their art. I also think there are avenues to finding Fieldwork - one writer loves it and invites a few friends to join, etc. It becomes a writers group for a while. When I first joined, we had many movement artists and few writers. Now we have few movers, but more writers and poets. We've also gone through stages of musicians.Even more important, we've had a crossover of disciplines - some poets have begun to perform their work, which has transformed them into fledgling actors and movers. I've done several collaborations with musicians, writers and movers.

Because the field is about "seeing" the work, the experience not only hones one’s skills crafting work but sharpens perception as well. Do you agree?

TV: Yes, the field has trained me to be sensitive in reading, not what I want to see, but to see what is actually there. I'm also much better at giving feedback - I am more aware of the artist's personal ability to hear feedback. You learn to sense when an artist may be too sensitive to hear, "I'm totally lost on what's going on in your piece." At these points, I’ve learned to rephrase my initial feelings into something more constructive, like "When you said .... I was confused and did not see how it related to...." Fieldwork is wonderful for learning how to articulate your experience.

How do the mixed disciplines work? Sometimes I felt that we wasted time trying to bring others not in our field up to snuff on dance and it was cumbersome. Other times it worked great.

TV: It depends on the group. I've noticed that mixed discipline groups are not a problem - it’s the awareness of the other artists. I've had poets who were astute in their listening and seeing skills and were able to relate and interpret accurately what they've experienced. I've had others that simply cannot grasp what they are seeing, yet their own work is wonderful.In my personal experience, I always create work for Fieldwork that I want to be accessible to non-dancers. This makes the feedback pertinent to my piece. The other side is that when I am ready for a dancer’s critical feedback, I ask freguent field participant Sara Draper to take mental notes to tell me what’s working or not from a choreographic point and we talk after the workshop. This happens often with everyone - Fieldwork opens other doors of discussion later.

As a choreographer showing work what amazed me was finding out something about my work that was out of my awareness-- for example, my tendency to dance on just the left side of the stage. I had no idea I was doing this and it added something to my work that I didn't intend, and it made the empty right side of the stage seem important. We can't be aware of everything and we miss things. Do you have any tales like this?

TV: Yes - I recently recognized that I create daring works in Fieldwork, things I am afraid to bring up in front of my colleagues and friends. I saw that I was afraid to expose myself to outsiders. This came as quite a shock to me I trusted the Fielders with these personal pieces and they have helped me bridge a confidence gap I had about my choreography and my performance ability. As a result, I premiered a work called "I Take My Clothes Off" at Draper’s fundraiser a few weeks ago. I never would have had the courage to do a piece like this a few years ago. That comes directly from Fieldwork.

Do you have any miracle stories where a work traveled a long distance in development?

TV: Draper created a solo called "Feet" one year in Fieldwork. The next session she asked me to dance it as a duet. The next year, we took it to Chicago for the Fieldwork showcase there. The next year, Draper decided to do a whole concept of body parts, which eventually become her concert "Life Museum" a few years ago.

I started my last year in college on a piece about my family. I was introduced to Fieldwork, which caused my work to grow progressively. I premiered the piece at the student dance concert and then took it to ACDFA the next spring. It was chosen for the Gala. Each time, I worked on it in Fieldwork. The following year, I received the CACHH Emerging Artist Grant to do my first evening length concert, based on that one piece. That piece grew into a full concert of stories about my family. All that happened from the first piece I ever choreographed - in Fieldwork. It’s my advertisement for Fieldwork - I created a whole concert from one Field piece.

The best part of the field is getting comfortable with the raw stages of our work. I used to say that every good dance started out as a bad dance. We all want to be brilliant on day one and it just doesn't happen that way. Any thoughts on this?

TV: I come from a theater and performance art background where almost anything is acceptable, so I've always been comfortable with the process rather than the end product. I love the raw stage better.

How do you manage having first time artists and more experiences types in the same room?

TV: I don't. I personally try to gear my feedback to the level of the artist, but as a facilitator, I just give each artist the room to be who they are and keep them focused on the etiquette of proper feedback.

What brings you back year after year as a facilitator?

TV: Nobody else wants to do it - they enjoy the process too much to get bogged down in the technicalities. I keep at it because I believe that Fieldwork should exist for the type of artist that cannot listen to or does not want a certain kind of feedback. Field feedback is couched in statements coming from “I hear, see, feel,” rather than “you need to, that doesn’t work, why are you doing that?

I continue because I want to give back what it has given me in terms of friendship, growth, and contacts. The hand was there for me to grasp; it’s my turn to reach out with the other hand. I also do it for myself - it commits me to creating new works and meeting with other artists no matter how complicated my life becomes.

Learn more at http://www.thefield.org/.

Fieldwork meets from February 22-April 26, 2006 Wednesdays, 7-9pm, at the
University of Houston, Melcher Gymnasium, Room 230. The fee is $50.
Several Dancers Core presenst the Fieldwork Showcase on Sunday 7pm, April 30, at 7pm 2006, Barnevelder Theater, 2201 Preston. Admission: $7. Call 713/409-2838

Donna Uchizono on APPROACHING GREEN

Donna Uschizono Company in Approaching Green
Photo by Jason Akira Somma

Donna Uchizono makes dances that make you want to see them a second time. Her complex and visually arresting work has been gathering momentum since she launched her company in 1990. She has gathered worldwide acclaim and amassed an extraordinary collection of honors including a Guggenheim Fellowship, grants from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Harkness Foundation for Dance, the Rockefeller Foundation, and a 2002 “Bessie” – the New York Dance and Performance Award – for her work Low. On February 10-11, her company will return to DiverseWorks to perform her latest dance, Approaching Green. She brought DSH up-to-date on all her latest work.

You mention the experience of witnessing of an Indian spiritual guide Ammachi hug 5,000 people as the inspiration for the piece. Can you speak to that experience?
DU: Ammachi’s devotees feel she is enlightened being. And though I’m not a devotee, I don’t question if she is or not. Her way of communicating with people is giving a hug. She comes to NY once a year. I always go see her and it makes me feel good to be in her presence. I was struck by all of these people, believers and non-believers waiting in line to be hugged, watching her hug over 5,000 people. There was something powerful in witnessing the desire for true physical contact. I think about the power of dance and one of its powers is that it’s live and it’s physical. There is nothing virtual about it. That’s an important aspect of our lives.

Did you think then it would generate a piece?
DU: No. I never know when something will do that. It’s always later.

I understand you had official huggers when the piece premièred in at Danspace Project in New York. Will there be official huggers at DiverseWorks?
DU: Yes. I thought it would be a nice homage to Ammachi to offer hugs to anyone that comes to the performance. It was interesting. There were 4 huggers in New York as they entered the performance space. I assumed New Yorkers are pretty hardcore. We thought 60% would want to be hugged. There were only 2 people, from the four performances, that did not want to be hugged. Some wanted hugs by all four.. Micki Wesson, one of the huggers, is known for her hugs. When I asked her she replied, “Oh darling, I would love to hug people.” She quietly announced, “Hugs are available, as people entered the theater.

You talk about the presence of aging in the work? How does aging translate to movement?
DU: I always start with a general concept, and then create a physical vocabulary that is appropriate. There is a place I like to get to where the dance starts talking back. Things kept popping up like numbers and birthdays. There is a lot of counting in the piece. We turn around and ask, “When did I turn 75?”

The set, costumes, and lighting are all pink. Why?
DU: When you flood the eyes with pink light, and then look at natural light, you will see green. We cannot flood the audience enough with pink light to fully experience that. The all-pink environment is my nod to that visual phenomenon. I thought about how aging is part of life, in fact everything that lives ages. The color green normally symbolizes life, and every living thing ages, thus we are all approaching green.

How would you describe the tenor of the work?
DU: There are some very sweet moments, sad moments, and tender moments. The humor in the piece is like smile. I also wanted to convey private places in public spaces, creating scenes behind the curtain that is revealed through virtual reality or shadows.

Did your process change for this piece?
DU: Yes and no. Each piece shifts the process. I never begin a work with pre-set movement. I always go in with the idea and develop a physical vocabulary that will support that idea.

Last time we spoke you mentioned you were only able to work three days a week. I’m astonished that you make such lovely work in so little time.
DU: It’s impossible to make work under those conditions, and, of course, we are all forced to do it. It’s criminal.

You have worked with composer Guy Yarden on several pieces. How did that work this time around?
DU: Guy came into the process much later than usual. He took a full-time job at DTW which made the process more difficult for him in terms of available time. For the performances in June, the music was more sparse then the current version. The change in the music made a huge difference.

Is video new to your work?
DU: Yes. This is a first. Sometimes with video and dance you are forced to make a choice, to either watch the video or the dance. I made a conscious effort not to have the video compete with the dancers on stage. With that said, there are some specific moments where there is some visual tension, but very specific moments. The opening video sequence is great.

I’m interested in the partnering. One dancer appeared to be using the other as the ground. It was extraordinary.
DU: I had this idea that the dancer on the other dancer would use the other as a moving terrain. Alex Escalante wasn’t just standing still, he was also dancing and moving through space. Even when Alex leaves the space, there is a symbolic way that Hristoula Harakas still never touches the ground.

Tell me about your work at the Baryshnikov Center?
DU: I created a trio for Misha, Hristoula Harakas, Jodi Melnick. Misha has been viewing my work for a while now, and he had asked me to create on White Oak, White Oak disbanded, so then that never happened. I saw him again at a dance concert and he asked me to make a piece for him. Misha is very generous. I’m incredibly grateful for how much attention he has given to contemporary dance.

Is the situation in the dance world getting better or worse?
DU: I was having this very discussion with Tere O’Connor and John Jasperse. We were talking about how unfortunate that we have sacrificed so much to get the work out there. We have set up an unrealistic expectation that it can be done. The kinds of things we do to make these performances happen are unrealistic. We have over sacrificed and now people think it can be done, but it really can’t. It’s getting worse. This year I am not making a piece. I just don’t have the money. I am incredibly concerned for the next generation.

What’s next for you?
DU: I have a great idea for my next piece. The piece continues my exploration of live versus virtual that I started to address in this piece. The opening idea of the work is three dancers sitting on a chair with white powder on all exposed parts of their bodies, with a life-size video projected onto them, depicting the same movements that they are making, for example, talking and gesturing. This opening sets the tone for the question of what is real and what is virtual. Since the performers are doing live exactly what they are doing in the video that is being projected onto them, it will be difficult to discern between the video and the live action. The performers will slowly start to brush off the powder, making it more difficult to see the video being projected on to them, and again, to discern the video projection versus the live aspect. The lights go to black. When the lights come up, you see the residue of powder on the floor. The physical dance aspect of the piece begins with the dancers’ interaction with this residue. The thought of it makes me excited to get back into the studio.

This interview was originally published by Dance Source Houston
www.houstondance.org

DiverseWorks presents Donna Uchizono-Approaching Green on February 10 & 11, 2006, 8pm. Call 713-335-3445 or visit http://www.diverseworks.org/

Learn more about Donna Uchizono Company at http://www.ladonnadance.org/.

Remembering to Forget: Cynthia Hopkins Memorable Accidental Nostalgia

Cynthia Hopkins in Accidental Nostalgia
Photo by Paula Court

You could spend a few days trying to figure out exactly what to call Accidental Nostalgia: an operetta about the pros and cons of amnesia. It doesn’t fit a template we know or recognize. Imagine an alternative country musical/scientific paper presentation, personal video landscape and you are still not close. Accidental Nostalgia, written, composed, and performed by Cynthia Hopkins, deals with nuances of memory, and amnesia. The scientific aspect to the program was not only fascinating but accurate. To thicken the plot, the main character, Lyn Seymour, (played beautifully by Hopkins) suffers from amnesia herself— a fact that renders the story difficult to decipher yet wildly entertaining.

Hopkins, with her puckish charm, looks and sings like an angel. Think Annie Lennox, but sweeter with more depth. She seems as comfortable lecturing on the intricacies of the brain as she does belting a heartfelt tune while playing her accordion. Her alternative country band, Gloria Deluxe, accompanies her on journey through neurons, a motor cortex run amuck and even all the way to Turkey to discover her past. To make matters weirder her tale involves her life as a runaway, abuse victim, role changes, and victim of mistaken identity. The highly melodic score created a surprising contrast to an otherwise unpredictable performance.

The style of the piece is breathtakingly original. Performed on a makeshift scaffold with the band stage left and the multi-purpose tech/video crew (who also line-dance) stage right, the piece has a rough hewn quality. Almost like it all might fall apart any minute. In fact, some of it did in one scary technical glitch. An enormous video screen shifts between interior viewing of the brain, an anatomical chart, and footage of personal adventures.

Hopkins, a two-time Obie Award winner and Bessie Award recipient, is one gorgeous performer. What ever she is doing and regardless of what she calls it, she is, for certain, pushing for a new theatrical form. So far, it’s working. Accidental Nostalgia proved the edgiest event on the SPA stage we’ve scene in years. Hopkins’ opus points towards the deeply subjective nature of memory. In doing so she’s created a performance you will never forget.