Alvin Ailey’s performance on Friday was spectacular: riveting, creative, beautiful and…fun!

                 The  program, one of several in new director Robert Battle’s first directorial season,  opened with Arden Court,

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater's Antonio Douthit and Alicia Graf Mack in Paul Taylor's Arden Court. Photo by Paul Kolnik

Photo by Paul Kolnik

set to the baroque music of Richard Boyce and the most “classically” patterned of the evening’s  pieces.

Described  as “an unfolding petal” by Dance Magazine and as  “lush”  and lauded by the New York Times for “the irresistible pleasure of its dancing,”  it  is replete with big movements,  high jumps, and  elegant formations.  This is the first season the Alvin Ailey company, founded in 1958,  has performed a work by Paul Taylor.

Video: at http://www.alvinailey.org/arden-court

The second piece,  Minus 16, by Israeli choreographer Ohad Naharin has been widely performed but it was a first for me–and  one of the most unusual dance compositions I’ve ever seen.

It began during what seemed to be an intermission…with  a dancer (Samuel Lee Roberts),  wearing a poorly fitting black suit, seeming to be  lackadaisically fooling around on stage..shuffle step, tap,  to rumba and cha cha music… as if there were no audience. Gradually, more men in hats, black pants and  T-shirts joined him.

In another part of Minus 16,  members of the company dressed in black suits white t shirts sat on folding chairs in a semi-circle– swooping forward and leaning back,  one after the other, in a clockwise wave– to a souped-up version of the passover song Echad Mi Yodea (one who knows). At the end of every repetition, and there were many,   the dancer in the chair farthest right  fell to the floor, taking longer and longer to return to his chair as the “wave” began again.    Part way through, the dancers removed their jackets, and, at the end,  they piled  most of their clothes, including their shoes, at the center of the stage.

In the final  piece of Minus 16,  the dancers walked somberly and silently off the stage and through the performance hall–  returning to the stage,   still silent, escorting  people from  the audience who were then incorporated into the performance.

At first, I thought the audience members on stage were plants: some were great dancers; some were hams; some were both–and many of the women selected wore red tops or scarves  and black skirts or slacks. But  not all were so dressed and not all seemed comfortable being led by their professional partners,  on stage.

The piece ended with all but one of the performers lying down on stage. The one left standing,  a slightly overweight middle-aged blonde  woman,  bowed gracefully.  The lights dimmed, and  a spotlight shone on  her as she walked across the stage,  down the steps  and through the hall to her seat.  The audience–including me–loved it.

I’ve since read in Dance Magazine that  if you want to be chosen to go on stage,  you should wear bright colors; if not, bring a pen and pretend to be a critic by taking notes.  And the Alvin Ailey Web site quotes Battle as saying that  Minus 16  “offers surprising new experiences for the company and our audience,”   and that it will be “both a great joy and a challenge for the dancers to improvise, break the fourth wall and invite the audience in.” So–the audience participation was for real.

The closing piece, Alvin Ailey’s 1960 Revelations, set to  familiar “traditional” songs such as “Wade in the Water,”  “Sinner Man,” and “Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham,”

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater's Briana Reed and Yannick Lebrun in Alvin Ailey's Revelations. Photo by Gert Krautbauer

brought an encompassing sense of history to the entire performance.   I had seen Revelations as a teenager…and now, as an adult, the variety of periods, costumes it incorporated  got me thinking about the importance of art in integrating  the past and present–and escorting us into the  future.

–Anita M. Harris

Anita M. Harris is a writer and consultant based in Cambridge, MA. New Cambridge Observer is a publication of the Harris Communications Group, a   PR and marketing communications firm.

It’s not that often that I leave an art exhibit with a new way of  seeing the world, but that’s what happened after I visited the ICA’s dance/draw exhibit, last weekend.

As described in an ICA press release, the show, ” organized by  ICA Chief Curator Helen Molesworth,  traces the journey of the line from changes in drawing in the 1960s to its explosion off the page and into three-dimensional space—ultimately finding itself in the realm of dance.  It  features  some 100 works—including video, photography, drawings and sculptural objects and  live performances.”

Based on the ICA Website’s  rather  formal description ( “In both dance and drawing, the line, as an independent means of expression, was liberated from the historical ideal of perfect form, to become a  mobile, open-ended element used to explore history, memory, and the expressive potential of the body”)   I thought the show would  dry and difficult–which is why I managed to avoid seeing it until just before the exhibit closes- on January 16.  And am I sorry!  Because what I found was a  refreshing new way of experiencing both dance and drawing–as well as objects and movement in the real world–that I’d like to go back to again and again.

One section of the exhibit shows how artists used body parts and objects rather than traditional drawing implements to make art. For example,  Janine Antoni used her eyelashes and mascara to make patterns on canvas;  Trisha Brown’s superimposed  tracings of her feet show motion in themselves; John Cage drew with plants and seaweed; David Hammons bounced a basketball covered with dirt onto a white background,  and Mona Hatou, below, drew with her own hair dipped in hair dye.   Photos and the works themselves document the artmaking processes–which often  involved dance-like  movement. 1.

In another room, a section called “The Line in Space” includes works in which  thread, string, or wire were used to form line–off of paper or canvas.  Of this group, I especially liked the mesmorizing simplicity of  Fred Sandback’s “Untitled Sculptural Study”   hung  in space.

If I recall correctly, a thread red  acryllic yarn hung up and down from ceiling to floor to the left, blue from the wall to the red thread, and yellow parallel on the floor–forming a three-dimensional representation of a Mondrian-like grid.

I also got a new perspective on  charcoal drawing  when I encountered Cornelia Parker’s  Hanging Fire (Suspected Arson)  sculpture, which is part of the ICA’s permanent collection. Composed of chunks of charcoal hung from the ceiling on wire mesh, in this new context, the piece becomes a charcoal drawing– in space.

A third section, “Dancing,” explores challenges to traditional modern dance as dance performances were moved off the stage into  the “real world”  of streets, mountains, the subway and such.  “Babette Mangolte’s photographs and films of Judson dancers Trisha Brown and Lucinda Childs show us the dancing body, in its entirety, rigorously defining itself as a line in space…. Juan Capistran’s break dancing in a museum (below) “similarly engages dance to defy protocols of normative behavior. “2.

Finally, in the section “Drawing,”  younger artists demonstrate “how movement, performance, and drawing are ineluctably mixed… ” . 3. For example, Tseng Kwong Chi photographs  Bill T. Jones Body Painting with Keith Haring; Fiona Banner copies  life-drawing manuals, in which the figure often appears to be in flight; Silke Otto Knapp  traces photographic images of dancers  onto luminous silver-painted canvases, and  Helena Almeida has herself photographed while she is drawing.                                                         4.  

I loved these and  many other works in the exhibit–and can’t do justice to them all.   But my favorite was a video in which dancer William Forsythe explains and shows  how he as a dancer moves– over, under and around electronically superimposed lines and shapes –forming new lines, shapes and volume.    5.

The day after seeing the show, I could not help but notice  lines, shapes and volume in relation to individuals’ movement everywhere in my life.

Draw/Dance will be at the ICA through January 16, 2012, with major support  fromThe Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Ronald and Ronni Casty, the HBB Foundation, and Jacqueline Bernat and Adam Hetnarski.

Credits:

1.Janine Antoni (Bahamian, born 1964)
Loving Care, 1992-96
Color video, sound; 35:50 minutes
Performance on January 7, 1996, MATRIX
Gallery, Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art,
Hartford, CT
Courtesy of the artist and Luhring Augustine,
New York

2.Helena Almeida (Portuguese, born 1934)
O Atelier/The Studio, 1983
Black-and-white photograph
67 3/8 x 48 7/8 in.
Framed: 69 ¼ x 50 ¾ in.
Exhibition copy, courtesy of the artist

3.Juan Capistran (Mexican, born 1976)
The Breaks, 2000
Inkjet print
40 x 40 in.
Collection of the New Museum of Contemporary
Art, New York, The Altoids Curiously Strong
Collection, Gift of Altoids
4.Tseng Kwong Chi (Chinese, 1950-1990)
Bill T. Jones Body Painting with Keith Haring,
1983
Gelatin silver selenium-toned photograph
20 x 16 in.
Muna Tseng Dance Projects / Estate of Tseng
Kwong Chi and Courtesy of Paul Kasmin Galler

5.William Forsythe (American, born 1949)
Lectures from Improvisation Technologies, 2011
Color video, sound; 9:54 min.
The Forsythe Company and ZKM, Karlsruhe,
2011

–Anita M. Harris

New Cambridge Observer is a publication of the Harris Communications Group, a public relations firm located in Cambridge, MA.  Harris, its founder and president, also blogs there.

Loved Mao’s Last Dancer, a new film based on the true story of ballet dancer Li Cunxin, who, as a child, was pulled from his poor family in the Chinese countryside to train in Beijing during the Cultural Revolution–and through his own quest for freedom  wound up an international star.  

Directed by Bruce Beresford (Driving Miss Daisy, Tender Mercies)  the movie was filmed in China, Houston and Australia–and stars  Birmingham Royal Ballet Principal Dancer Chi Cao, Australian Ballet dancer Chengwu Guo  and Huang Wen Bin, who play Cunxin at different ages. 

Mao’s Last Dancer showcases many beautiful–even breathtaking–ballet sequences from acclaimed Australian choreographer Graeme Murphy and co stars  co-stars Bruce Greenwood, Kyle MacLachlan and Joan Chen.

The story is so moving that I even teared up at times–despite a bit of clunky acting ( foregivable because the artists are dancers, first, of course).

Mao’s Last Dancer premiered on 13rd September 2009, at the Toronto International Film Festival and will be opening in theaters Oct. 1, 2010.  I’d give it 3 and 3/4 stars–and a great recommendation for anyone who likes dance and US patriotism.

^{–Anita Harris}

^{New Cambridge}

Url for  LaDanse Trailer on U-Tub: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1iU2l0XFrek&feature=player_embedded

My friend E. and I made it a point to sit in on the aisle in the last row when we went to see Frederick Wiseman’s latest film, La Danse, last night at the Brattle Theater in Cambridge–in case we needed to leave in a hurry.  We’d heard it was very long (120 minutes) and that it needed some editing.

But we ended up staying through to the end–partly because we wanted to take part in the question and answer session with Wiseman,  but mainly because, despite the film’s  length and some imperfections, we found it quite beautiful.

It’s cinema verite, shot by Wiseman with a handheld 16MM camera, of  practice, dress rehearsals, and behind the scenes discussions  at the Paris Opera Ballet, over 13 weeks in Paris in 2007.

I was fascinated by the sessions in which choreographers and coaches viewed and critiqued dancers  such as  Nicolas Le Riche, Marie-Agnès Gillot, and Agnès Letestu, among others.  In those scenes,  Weisman provides the rare opportunity to understand what emotions the dancers are asked to convey and how they do it; the  detailed movements that go into that; and  the occasional difficulty some dancers have in translating direction into specific action.

A photographer myself, I enjoyed the interspersing of arty still views of stairwells, window casings but,  because some outside shots of Paris and the Opera House seemed to repeat, I wondered if Wiseman had come away with too little covering footage.

It was also great to see some of what happens behind the scenes: the painstaking sewing of sequins into costumes, one by one; the serving of  apparently overcooked broccoli and fish with sauce in the cafeteria; the cleaning of the performance hall, and,  especially, meetings of administrators discussing their fundraising efforts–which, combined,  give some sense of what’s involved in producing some 250 performances a year.

Wiseman did a wonderful job of filming rehearsals for seven ballets: Genus by Wayne McGregor, Le Songe de Mede by Angelin Preljocaj, La Maison de Bernarda by Mats Ek, Paquita by Pierre Lacotte, Casse Noisette by Rudolph Noureev, Orphe and Eurydice by Pina Bausch, and Romeo and Juliette by Sasha Waltz.  Some of the more modern pieces seemed to go on  and on but most  were mesmerizing–and unlike any I’ve seen in the US.

Wiseman could, perhaps, have left out a few–and, because it’s hard to stare at a screen for three hours straight,  I’d have appreciated an intermission. (And,  no doubt, so would those who got up to go to the rest room in the middle, blocking our view of the screen).

I  found Wiseman’s fly-on-the-wall technique a bit disturbing–mainly because it showed almost no verbal interaction among the dancers, who were portrayed as objects to be molded and by teachers and administrators.  But perhaps that’s how it is in the dance world and in the company, described by artistic director, in one segment, as  “hierarchical.”

In the Q&A, Wiseman seemed reluctant to answer questions about content or meaning.  (When someone asked why he’d included a scene involving beehives on the roof of the opera house, he said that’s for the viewer to figure out–perhaps, I thought,  because it’s too obvious a metaphor).

Nor was Wiseman  forthcoming about his thought processes (or lack, thereof)  in structuring or editing  the film.  He spent a day looking around the building, then started shooting, he said. After 13 days, he returned with 130 hours of film; spent a year reviewing, culling, editing, reviewing, adding, cutting–and here we were.

It seemed to me that  the film could use more structure and that some scenes were repetitive–but given the beauty and grace of the dancers, I’m hard-put to say which sequences I’d leave out.

—–Anita M. Harris

New Cambridge Observer is a publication of the Harris Communications Group of Cambridge, MA. We also publish HarrisComBlog and Ithaca Diaries Blog.