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Some snapshots I’ve taken relatively recently that are kind of unclassifiable
Interesting views of Montreal
Monthly Archives: March 2012
Rebecca Halls | Raqib Brian Burke at Tangente
Howdy!
Now we’re really on the ball! It’s a Monday morning and I’m writing about something I saw last Thursday. Almost timely… They had a double feature at the Monument National (where Tangente is camping for the most part this season) and due to a screw up on my part I got to see Rebecca Halls and Raqib Brian Burke perform.
I’m impressed that Ms. Halls agreed to be on the bill with Mr. Burke. Although she didn’t have to follow him, she was first. Still a potentially frightening situation. I’ve heard stories of how in the early 1970s the band Chicago had Bruce Springsteen open for them on a tour, and after something like four shows, Bruce Springsteen was politely asked not to perform anymore because his show was so much better than that of Chicago’s. While not quite as polarizing as Bruce Springsteen and Chicago. Ms. Halls definitely suffered in comparison.
While I missed the initial Hula-Hoop craze in the late fifties, I did have at least one as a youngster. Then when the neo-hippies started doing it at Burning Man and other festivals, I also missed it, but was aware that Hula Hoops had come back. Now, I’m not completely incompetent at hooping, but then again I never really saw much point in practicing enough to become like super duper good at it. When I was younger I always thought the pogo stick was a much cooler toy – and now that I think of it, I just might have to get myself a pogo-stick this summer. But I digress…
OK, maybe not.
As usual, I tried to go into the show with no to low expectations, so it was only after seeing it that I read in the program (again, no press kit) “As she uncovers her Icelandic Heritage, the dancer takes the audience on a nostalgic journey through cycles of time, planetary motion and the natural world.” And that I think is as good a place as any to try an explain the difficulties I found in the piece.
For the most part hooping is one movement with a bunch of variations. And those variations aren’t terribly major. Hoop on the foot, hoop on the arm, multiple hoops, hoops that are lit up, you get the picture. As a consequence it’s rather tough to impose any sort of narrative on a performance without either some other props, or a script.
Ms. Halls at one point did change her costume, but that was about it as far as props were concerned and it seemed to me that the show was about spinning hoops, and being spun (at one point a harness descends and she puts it on so that she can spin in the air). Unless I was blind (which is quite possible) I did not see any hoop labelled “Mars,” “Jupiter” or “Saturn.” That planetary motion thing really didn’t come through all that clear.
In my notes I do make reference to a video of a “cold and still north.” But given that we happen to live in an cold and still northern place, I was didn’t quite make a connection to Iceland until after I read it. Similarly I didn’t make any connections to a natural world nor the cycles of time.
That all being said, I’m certain that Ms. Halls’ hooping technique was impressive. However the tone was kind of set by the film that was played before her performance which got no applause whatsoever. Kind of surprising considering how polite Montreal crowds normally are. But after that there was no applause for any of the individual feats she performed, which given how hooping is a very physical activity must have been frustrating for her. I don’t know if it has to do with how small the theatre was at the Monument National or if there was some other reason. But at pretty much every other hooping performance I’ve seen, the audience does break into applause when a particularly impressive feat is accomplished.
All of which is a kind of long lead in to Raqib Brian Burke’s performance, which was the second part of the show. For the longest time I thought that Whirling Dervishes spun as fast as Tasmanian Devils did.
Probably something having to do with never really taking a comparative religion course and watching just a little bit too many Bugs Bunny cartoons when I was younger. Now that I’m older, I realize the errors of my youth. it also helps that I got to actually see someone do it live and in the flesh.
What can I say? Well, I’m not going to try and explain why or how he does it. It’s pretty gosh darn simple, spinning around and around. But what continues to amaze me even at this late date, is while everything I have read says that the folks doing the twirling around are the ones who get into the spiritual state. I actually found myself, as a viewer, in some kind of state of bliss. I can barely remember my walk home, but I can very clearly remember the sense of awestruck serenity that I had while watching the performance.
Something probably should also be written about Eric Powell who played the music that Mr. Burke preformed to. Although again to be brutally honest, I was so blown away by Mr. Burke that I have to refer to my notes to even conjure up a vague idea of what and how Mr. Powell played. At various times sounding like a Geiger counter or an electric ukelele or some kind of electronica throat singing or probably a bunch of other things that I didn’t write down, at the time it all sounded exactly and completely appropriate.
If I’m going to question anything, it would be whatever part Mira Hunter had. She’s Mr. Burke’s daughter and got the headliner status as choreographer and the person responsible for the video (I also imagine that she came up with the title). In my notes, I wrote “video comes on / But there is no need for video / he is riveting.” Which is not say that she did anything bad or that her participation lessens the performance. Just that I wasn’t capable of appreciating the nuances that she added.
This is actually a video of a whirling performance by Mr. Burke and his daughter (and some other folk as well) out in Vancouver. Whether it is the tilt of the head, the way the arms are held, or just that it is so gosh darn simple, I don’t know. But Mr. Burke was something completely awe inspiring on Thursday night. I’d draw the line at converting to Sufism, but you don’t know how close I got.
If you want more information about whirling, and all of that, try The Rumi Society (BC) and Mevlevi Order for a start. And then there are these dudes from Turkey.
Lisbeth Gruwez | Voetvolk, Birth of Prey at Usine C
Howdy!
Color me confused, today. Last week (see? I’m almost all caught up on the dance. Unfortunately, I way backlogged on the art…) I got to see Birth of Prey by Lisbeth Gruwez and Voetvolk at Usine C. It’s a piece that they created in 2008. They flew over here from Belgium specifically to perform it. And then flew back. In other words this was not part of a North American tour or anything. They are also touring a piece that was created this year, called, It’s going to get worse and worse and worse, my friend. I have no clue as to why the fine folk at Usine C decided that the older piece was the one that they wanted to present. But that’s neither here, nor there.
Although now with a little bit of reflection it could be because contortion is “the new black” in contemporary dance. Earlier this season, Angela Laurier performed at Usine C. I’m never one to identify upcoming trends, so I could be very wrong on this one. After all Birth of Prey was created in 2008, which could also mean that contortion has “jumped the shark.”
If you hadn’t figured it our by now, in Birth of Prey for the most part Ms. Gruwez does a kind of 21st century contortion act. Not the 19th and 20th century type where the performer twists various body parts into positions that would make most people wince, and for the most part confined to sideshows and boardwalks. The first word that comes to mind to describe her style is “refined,” quickly followed by “discreet” and “focused.” Hers is much more about individual muscles and bones, than the whole body.
Specifically the trapezius, the latissimus dorsi, the intertransversarii and the multifidus spinae. (Are there any other back muscles? Did I miss any?) There are parts where she does things that could be considered more dance-like and more singing-like, but for the most part it was the control she has on the individual muscles of her back that fascinated me.
If you watch all 21 minutes of the video, you’ll get a real good idea of what the show is like. But please don’t confuse watching a 560 pixel wide video on your computer screen with the real thing. Sorta like confusing CliffsNotes with the original. When you take a step back you can realize that they are in fact two separate things.
The first obvious difference between the video and the real, live stage performance was that for the performance, we had to enter into Usine C using an entrance more normally used for props and actors than the audience. Normally when at Usine C, you walk up a set of stairs to enter into the large theater from the top and then walk back down to your seat. For Birth of Prey we entered at stage level and then walked up to our seats.
For those audience members who had previously been to Usine C the variation on the entry was, while not quite disconcerting, slightly confusing. Added to that was that while we entered the entire stage was completely covered in smoke, from some kind of smoke machine, and I definitely was dislodged from my normal theater performance routine. Which was as I presume, its intended effect. Making me much more aware, questioning what was about to happen, and paying precious little attention to the normal chit-chat that happens pre-show. I have absolutely no idea how full the theater was, nor if there were any vedettes in attendance – both things that I normally write down in my notes because the extent of my notes before the show started were “Enter from the side, with lots of smoke. WHY?” And the “why” was written approximately four times larger than anything else on the page.
Then we were informed that the show had started because some rather loud generic guitar/drum, not quite punk, not quite boogie, music was played. I always like dance to live music, even if the music isn’t the greatest. This music while immediately reminding me of the late and lamented Deja Voodoo
Although I am 100% positive that if you grew up in a different town, there is some other guitar drum duo that you personally remember. But I do appreciate that Dave Schroyen & Maarten Van Cauwenberghe reminded me of Gerard van Herk and Tony Dewald. I hadn’t thought about van Herk Dewald in far too long. Although now that I am thinking about them, I do remember one Deja Voodoo barbecue where my houndstooth check overcoat with a vertical slash pocket got stolen. Something like 30 years ago, man! how I liked that coat. I’m still convinced it is going to reappear (like, magically) in my life. I bought it for $2 in Schenectady, New York. But I digress…
But back to the performance; once the music started, I (and I presume everyone else) started to peer into the smoke. I knew that something was going to happen, I just had no idea what. have you ever seen a newborn gerbil? Newborn hamster?
Well that’s kind of what Ms. Gruwez looked like as she entered the stage. Although now that I think about it, I can probably come up with a bunch of other hairless tubular living things that she would also look like. It’s amazing how some theatrics, smoke and serious lighting presented by someone who knows what they’re doing can look like something else.
But, once she got to center stage, it was all Ms. Olympia all-the-time, almost like what I would imagine a performance by Iris Kyle would be like (if there were loud generic guitar/drum, not quite punk, not quite boogie music played).
And that’s the point. I have absolutely no desire to see Ms. Kyle (or anyone else for that matter) win the 2012 Ms. Olympia Championship. However, Ms. Gruwez’s manipulation of her musculature was completely and utterly riveting to the point where I was hanging on the next move of her latissimus dorsi. Go figure.
At various points she got up and attempted to sing, but whatever. I wasn’t there to hear her sing, scream or shriek. And she did scream and shriek. There were also some points where she actually looked like she was doing modern (or contemporary) dance. But just about anything was going to fail in comparison to what and how she manipulated her back.
Then, there was the point about three-quarters of the way through the show when through the smoke I suddenly saw something like a small rivulet of blood that flowed absolutely perfectly right down her spine. I think at some point I was able to see some kind of tube, but given all the other theatrical tricks it might have just been smoke and mirrors. I dunno.
There were a couple of other salient points. During the performance that I saw Mr. Van Cauwenberghe broke a string at the absolute perfect moment – in between two very different sections that were separated by a scream from Ms. Gruwez – so from an audience perspective it was just like an extended pause while he changed strings. But it did occur to me to wonder why they didn’t just travel with two guitars. I also didn’t quite understand why she started singing Helen Kane‘s signature song.
I‘m positive that there’s some kind of connection between the animal nature of the performance and the title, as in some sort of evil being born – but ultimately I think this one comes down to just how spectacularly Ms. Gruwez is able to manipulate her body, and then some sort of title, music and theory were wrapped around it after the fact.
In short, in comes down to getting a seat front row center, focusing on Ms. Gruwez’s scapulae for 50 minutes and not blinking.
Ghislaine Doté | Virtuo Danse, Merry Age at Agora de la danse
Howdy!
Color me impressed. Normally there is a dearth of reviews of Montreal dance performances. Sometimes, Le Devoir deigns to publish a review, and occasionally there is something else on a website someplace. For Merry Age by Ghislaine Doté and Virtuo Danse I count seven! Stéphanie Brody in La Presse, Camille Lepage-Mandeville on pieuvre.ca, Ashley Ornawka on Le Médium Saignant, Justine Bleau on Dfdanse, Frédérique Doyon in Le Devoir, Nathalie Katinakis on Musicalavenue.fr and Kat Sark on Suites Culturelles.
Unfortunately, most of them are not terribly positive. (I hope that Ms. Dote has a very thick skin, or chooses not to read them.)
Malheureusement, tout ce qui rendrait Merry Age aussi jouissif se dissout trop rapidement et l’on assiste, navrée, à un sextet qui cherche son fond et sa forme..
[Sadly, everything that makes Merry Age so joyous, sadly dissolves rapidly right before our eyes into a sextet that seeks substance and form.]L’œuvre de Doté est un bon divertissement. Il est simplement dommage qu’un concept si prometteur n’ait pas été plus développé.
[Doté’s work is entertaining. But it is too bad that such a promising concept isn’t better developed.]Le spectacle, dans son ensemble, ne présente pas de réel approfondissement de l’idée ni de nouvelles avenues exploitées concernant l’union de deux êtres à travers la danse.
[The show, as a whole, has no real depth of thought nor does it explore any new opportunities for the union of two beings through dance.]Mais cette candeur a aussi ses défauts: les faux rebondissements (scènes mal arrimées), un récit trop mince, des mélodies un peu simplettes.
[But this candor also has its faults: twists and turns that don’t work (scenes that aren’t anchored) a thin plot and simplistic melodies.]
Ouch!
After reading those, I almost wanted to write something so over-the-top positive that it could make all those meanies go away. But I quickly remembered that I wasn’t Ms. Doté’s mother, and it really wouldn’t be appropriate to try and protect her from perceived bullies. It’s something automatic in me, not only to be contrarian, but also to want to help the underdog.
Let’s back up a bit, Merry Age was performed by Jenny Brizard, Fernanda Leal, Xavier Malo, Mohamed N’Diaye, Francois Richard and Émilie Tremblay at the Agora de la Danse back in the middle of February. (You see! I am catching up!) Some sort of hybrid type of performance that had bits of musical theater, modern dance and lots of other stuff (I went looking for some examples of dance from the Côte d’Ivoire, but only found this and there really wasn’t an awful lot of that in Merry Age). As per normal, I went in completely blind. I hadn’t read any of the press kit (yes, there was a press kit) refused to read the program, and politely asked my companion not to tell me anything in advance.
So when it started up like some sort of musical, I was very surprised. While I quite like musicals, specifically MGM musicals from the 30s, 40s and 50s with Gene Kelly and/or Fred Astaire (but in a pinch just about any musical will do) I was completely and totally unprepared to see a musical at L’Agora de la Danse. After a bit, it reverted back to more standard contemporary dance fare, every now and again launching into song.
I also had become very comfortable with the concept of no plot, and here was a performance that clearly had plot. Most of the time, kind of like the song (for the most part only one song was used) plot wandered in and out of the show. But since I wasn’t expecting it, I didn’t get too attached to it.
This might have been due in part, to the fact that while it was pretty obvious that the show was about marriage (Ms. Doté even announced it at the beginning) for the first part it didn’t strike me that any of the couples were fixed. Each woman danced with all of the guys and vice-versa, so it never occurred to me to take it that literally. Once that was out of the way, it became very easy to watch.
As I’ve come to expect these days, the set was minimal. There was some kind of podium in the back that held a rack of clothes for the dancers to put on, there was a chair, then there were more chairs and a table and that was about it. You can get some sense of the set and the piece itself here.
It also seemed to me to be one of those pieces that could only be made here in Quebec, as it incorporated bilingual text. What I really got a kick out of besides the bilingualism, was the biracial nature of the couples. Although now that I am able to reflect a little bit more on it, there was one bit in Spanish as well, so it in fact was trilingual, and Ms. Doté could have pushed the envelope slightly by having some non-heterosexual couples as well. But those are more about my agenda than her piece. I realize now that it also could have been made in many other places besides Montreal.
The dancing itself was quite good. Again, my memory is sketchy at best, but I have a vague feeling in the pit of my stomach that the parts where all six dancers were dancing were slightly better than when there were obvious duets. There were a couple of “really nice’s” in my notes. One in particular when they did a round in movement instead of in song, and another after they spin around the table.
So what else? Well, I think the title itself isn’t too hot. A bad play on words (not even a pun) on the word marriage. I think judging from my reaction in comparison to the ones quoted above, that perhaps for the restaging, to change the name, and perhaps say that it is about fish, or mitochondria or something other than weddings and human interactions. The people who pay attention to the stuff in the program and the press kits won’t quite have such large expectations and the reaction probably will be a lot more positive. (And to be fair, there were three positive reviews; one, two and three. It’s just that they weren’t terribly well written, and if I had led with them, I’m not certain what I would have been able to write).