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What Is "Dance Theater"?
What is "dance theater"? Is it Pina Bausch's raw examinations of everyday life? Is it performance that mixes movement and text? Is it dance that tells a story? Dance Magazine talked with four choreographers who use elements of dance and theater—but whose work escapes easy categorization—about playing with narrative, integrating movement and words, and what "dance theater" means to them.
Dance theater, to me personally, means that there's no hierarchy of materials you can use to make a piece. Movement is not more important; text and narrative aren't more important. I feel this complete free range as I try to express something, to use a whole variety of theatrical elements, like relationship, cause and effect, clothes, dance, singing, talking, found text, plays, literature—this cornucopia of theatrical possibilities.
Parson's Big Dance: Short Form. Photo by Paula Court, courtesy of The Kitchen.
Having said that, the contradiction is that I think dance is the most important thing. Dance is sacred. So even though everything's equal, what really needs to be preserved is dance, because it's the most fundamental element at hand.
I don't know why dance and theater ever separated in the first place. Since the ancient Greeks, they've been united. That theater became this thing where people sit on couches and move their mouths—to me it's insane, so unexpressive. One thing that attracted me to Samuel Pepys [the 17-century English diarist and inspiration for Big Dance Theater's new work, 17c] is that when he went to the theater, he described the dances. He's seeing Shakespeare, first- and second-generation Shakespeare, and he's saying, "Well, the play was bad, but the dances were really good." It didn't look like theater does now. They danced!
I don't call my work dance theater, but I am borrowing super-liberally from both disciplines. Both have to do with language, embodied language, these multiple utterances that have different forms and shapes that I hope will collide with each other.
Okpokwasili in her Poor People's TV Room. Photo by Mena Burnette.
Generally I start with text. Once I've written something, I try to think about particular gestures or if there's some kind of movement that resonates with what I've been writing. In working on my piece Bronx Gothic, I came out with this vibrating gesture, something related to a twerk and a twerk gone wrong and the question of how long can that be sustained.
When I move away from written language and go into a space of movement, it's a very open and yummy space where I just follow my body, but it's anchored somewhere in this text that I have floating in the back of my mind, a word or an idea. It's like going into a really wide field, and you don't know which way you're going to go. You can stay in one place, but it's quite spacious.
I find dance theater to be a difficult term. When theater-based people use movement, they don't call it "theater dance." They might say "physical theater" or "experimental theater." It's funny, the qualifications that seem to happen when dance-based artists work outside of dance. I relate more to the word performance—it's more open—and the idea of grabbing from whatever's needed to make the work.
Faye Driscoll's PLAY. Photo by Julieta Cervantes.
Whether there are words or no words, music or no music, it's all interrelated and coming from a similar source of a desire to create. I'm really interested in story, but I have very little interest in plot or telling a story. I'm more concerned with the efforts of storytelling, the labor to convey meaning, the sense of going on a journey through something and just riding that feeling, without necessarily a linear comprehension of it.
When I came here [to New York, from Brazil] I started studying with the people from Twyla Tharp's company. The investigation of movement and the problems it would offer up, like your arms do 7 counts, your legs do 3, the impossibility of those coordinations—that was my first love.
Patricia Hoffbauer in Para-Dice #2. Photo by Ian Douglas.
At the same time I was very attracted to humor and interested in process, exposing the process of making something and the accidents in a rehearsal and the absurdity of it. Early on I did a piece based on an Ionesco play, in which Peter Richards and I were two old ladies. We were looking at absurd theater as a way to break from formal movement, which seemed like it was done, exhausted. I don't know if you'd call what we did dance theater, but it was very theatrical.
If I wasn't borrowing from famous playwrights, I was repeating verbatim what had happened in the studio; I wasn't trying to be a writer. But in 1993 I got together with George [Emilio Sanchez], an actor and writer doing solo performance at this moment of identity politics. I was interested in that, too, so the work became much more political. We've worked together for over 20 years, and it's the most excruciating difficulty—the competition between us, and the difficulties of what's more important, the words or the movement?
There must be something in the water: Last week, we announced that Madonna is directing Michaela DePrince's upcoming biopic. And yesterday, we got wind of another major dance film: According to The Hollywood Reporter, Fox Searchlight has sealed the deal to make Ailey Ailey's life and work into a movie. Yes, please.
While some movies falter along their way to the big screen, we think this one's got legs (and hopefully a whole lot of lateral T's and hinges and coccyx balances, too). Why?
Back in 2012, after 14 years dancing with Mark Morris Dance Group, choreographer John Heginbotham ventured out on his own. Don't think of it as going solo, though.
Almost from the outset, Heginbotham has embarked on a series of fruitful collaborations with other artists, via his namesake company, Dance Heginbotham, and through a stream of independent projects. His creative partners have covered a range of talents and genres: illustrator Maira Kalman (in 2017's The Principles of Uncertainty), opera director Peter Sellars (for Girls of the Golden West, which debuted at San Francisco Opera in November), and contemporary-music luminaries such as Tyondai Braxton and Alarm Will Sound.
Here's What He Has To Say: About starting his company, his rehearsal process and why he's drawn to creative mash-ups.
Raise your hand if you've ever walked out of the studio with just one thought on your mind: a big, juicy cheeseburger. But raise your other hand if instead of getting that burger, you opted for a hearty salad or stir-fry.
While dancers need to fuel their bodies with nutrient-dense meals and snacks, plenty of foods get an unfair bad rap. "The diet culture in this country vilifies various food groups as being bad while championing others as good," says Kelly Hogan, MS, RD, CDN, clinical nutrition and wellness manager at the Dubin Breast Center at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City. "But black-and-white thinking like that has no place when it comes to food."
Some foods have less nutrition than others, admits Hogan, but if you're eating what you crave and honoring your hunger and fullness cues, she says you'll probably get the variety of nutrients your body needs. Here are seven foods that can have a place on your plate—guilt-free.
When you spend as much time on the road as The Royal Ballet's Steven McRae, getting access to a proper gym can be a hassle. To stay fit, the Australian-born principal turns to calisthenics—the old-school art of developing aerobic ability and strength with little to no equipment.
"It's basically just using your own body weight," McRae explains. "In terms of partnering, I'm not going to dance with a ballerina who is bigger than me, so if I can sustain my own body weight, then in my head I should be fine."
Ten years is a long time for a dance production to run, but Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui's Sutra, an athletic, meditative spectacle featuring 19 Shaolin monks and a malleable set of 21 wooden boxes (designed by Antony Gormley) is still striking a chord with audiences worldwide. To celebrate the milestone, Sutra is returning to Sadler's Wells, where it all began. March 26–28. sadlerswells.com.
Whether playing a saucy soubrette or an imperious swan, Irina Dvorovenko was always a formidable presence on the American Ballet Theatre stage. Since her 2013 retirement at 39, after 16 seasons, she's been bringing that intensity to an acting career in roles ranging from, well, Russian ballerinas to the Soviet-era newcomer she plays in the FX spy series "The Americans."
We caught up with her after tech rehearsal for the Encores! presentation of the musical Grand Hotel, directed and choreographed by Josh Rhodes and running March 21–25 at New York City Center. It's another tempestuous ballerina role for Dvorovenko—Elizaveta Grushinskaya, on her seventh farewell tour, resentfully checks into the Berlin hostelry of the title with her entourage, only to fall for a handsome young baron and sing "Bonjour, Amour."
When Andrew Montgomery first saw the Las Vegas hit Le Rêve - The Dream 10 years ago, he knew he had to be a part of the show one day. Eight years later, he auditioned, and made it to the last round of cuts. On his way home, still waiting to hear whether he'd been cast, he was in a motorcycle accident that ended up costing him half his leg.
But Montgomery's story doesn't end the way you might think. Today, he's a cast member of Le Rêve, where he does acrobatics and aerial work, swims (yes, the show takes places in and around a large pool) and dances, all with his prosthetic leg.
Camille A. Brown is on an impressive streak: In October, the Ford Foundation named her an Art of Change fellow. In November, she won an AUDELCO ("Viv") Award for her choreography in the musical Bella: An American Tall Tale. On December 1, her Camille A. Brown & Dancers made its debut at the Kennedy Center, and two days later she was back in New York City to see her choreography in the opening of Broadway's Once on This Island. Weeks later, it was announced that she was choreographing NBC's live television musical Jesus Christ Superstar Live in Concert, to air on April 1.
An extraordinarily private person, few knew that during this time Brown was in the midst of a health crisis. It started with an upset stomach while performing with her company on tour last summer.
"I was drinking ginger ale, thinking that I would feel better," she says. Finally, the pain became so acute that she went to the emergency room in Mississippi. Her appendix had burst. "Until then, I didn't know it was serious," she says. "I'm a dancer—aches and pains don't keep you from work."
A flock of polyamorous princes, a chorus of queer dying swans, a dominatrix witch: These are a few of the characters that populate the works of Katy Pyle, who, with her Brooklyn-based company Ballez, has been uprooting ballet's gender conventions since 2011.
Historically, ballet has not allowed for the expression of lesbian, transgender or gender-nonconforming identities. With Ballez, Pyle is reinventing the classical canon on more inclusive terms. Her work stems from a deep love of ballet and, at the same time, a frustration with its limits on acceptable body types and on the stories it traditionally tells.
The latest fitness fad has us literally buzzing. Vibrating tools—and exercise classes—promise added benefits to your typical workout and recovery routine, and they're only growing more popular.
Warning: These good vibrations don't come cheap.