“The Garden of a Hundred Memories” choreographed and performed by Parya Saberi. Lighting by John McAfee; photo by David Gaylord.
Sojourn: MFA in Dance Cohort 4 Concert
Saint Mary's College of California, Moraga
Thursday, June 28, 2018 at 4pm and 8pm
Sojourn, a temporary stay, was the experience I had watching SMC's Cohort 4 MFA Dance Concert one evening in late June. Watching a piece only one time, and then funneling all that has been seen into words, is a challenge to say the least. However, the range of artistic voices and unique approaches to movement I’ve witnessed has left me with much to say. The concert was titled Sojourn, which is rightly so, as the audience was able to journey through pieces about “personal identity, consciousness, cycles, and connections to home," which Artistic Director Elizebeth Randall Rains stated in the program notes.
The first piece was a video, titled Water Nomad, choreographed and performed by Lisa Tenorio. The sounds of ocean waves filled the theater, and we were able to enjoy the view of a beautiful beach. Tenorio began with simple gestures on the sand in a long, flowy green dress; then we began to hear a poem titled “Mother Ocean” slowly recited throughout the piece. Tenorio referenced a repeated grasping gesture and moments of stillness lying on a rock. She embraced the sand by dancing peacefully, letting it run through her fingers, using it to create different shapes. The videography allowed us to see this piece from multiple angles, sometimes very intimate and up close. At one point the rippling waves replaced Tenorio’s dress which was a nice special effect to add.
I appreciate the simplistic video and concept accompanied with the spoken word, which allowed the audience to embrace the beauty of it all. We hear the words “tides migrate and circle back” and “the ocean in me calls to the ocean in you," which Tenorio mirrored gracefully with her blissful movement. To tie the piece together, we see Tenorio in the tides as we hear “leave and come back again, surging, water nomad” as the video comes to an end. Overall I enjoyed the piece, however it would have been nice to see a more dynamic energy shift to reflect the tremulous movements of the ocean to contrast the easygoing nature of the piece. Tenorio’s message was very clear with the title, video, choreography and spoken word all being woven together perfectly. We are one with the ocean, and it is apart of all us.
The next piece was a cast of 6 dancers, choreographed by Taylor Santero, titled Inside. It started with a trio of dancers, one on the floor centerstage, another sitting, and the last walking backwards. As the pulsing but soothing music began, the rest of the cast enter backwards, in a forced arch, hands on their heads. They eventually huddled together on center with one dancer looking from the outside. Santero used a swaying movement through the torso which read well from the audience. They broke into a diagonal, and Santero created 3 mini duets within the line. Two dancers seemed to have highlighted moments. One had a beautiful one leg, off balance, flex foot phrase which was very interesting, and the other seemed to be a younger dancer who really held her own within the choreography. The momentum shifted as the cast huddled around a dancer who gets pushed around, then the younger dancer began to be the one pushed around. She used a simple gesture of the hand to change the dynamic of the group, and one by one the rest of the cast reacts with a softer, comforting energy. She begins a solo phrase which each dancer joins in, at different intervals, to end with the entire group dancing together.
With this being the first live dance piece of the night, I appreciated the effort of all the dancers on stage. Santero has a interesting movement quality, and the use of repetition allowed the audience to really appreciate the shapes presented, especially with the dancers dressed simply in blue shirts and shorts. The title of the piece allowed the viewer to interpret the piece in multiple ways. I think Santero wanted us to reflect on what’s inside of us, our morality, and how it can affect the people we are around. However, there is room to tighten up the message and make the relationships between the dancers more clear. Maybe build more contact between all the dancers within the piece, even if it’s pedestrian, to clarify their connections. Expanding on the section when the group huddled is around one dancer could also make the message intensified.
The second solo of the night, The Garden of A Hundred Memories, was choreographed and performed by Parya Saberi. The stage was dark outside of a light box set in the middle of the stage, with Saberi folded over inside of it. She hits the floor, her thighs, then a beautiful Persian song fills the speakers, taking us to another place. Saberi eloquently moves her body as she rises, accenting her hands and hips. She breaks free of the box only to be led right back to it. She references the tapping of the thighs again, finding isolations in her head, neck, and torso. Saberi again leaves the box, this time finding stage right, utilizing every part of her body to tell her story. Eventually she finds herself in the box again, reaching out, touching herself as if in pain. At the very end Saberi walks away from the box, leaving it all behind.
Saberi, dressed in a beautiful black dress with red accents in the skirt, did a beautiful job of telling her story. The relatable movement complemented with the lovely song made it easy for the audience to dive into Saberi’s world. Her piece seemed to be an internal exploration of different feelings that needed to be expressed, set free. As the title suggests, memories seemed to overcome her, and she needed to shake off what was eating away at her. Using the lights as a way to convey “the garden” was a great way to visually show the audience what she was going through. The ending suggests we sometimes need to walk away and set ourselves free from neverending thoughts. I challenge Saberi to push the envelope a bit more and step further into those memories to express even more emotion through her movement. I would like to see her express memories that have opposing dynamics - joyful, angry, depressed, anxious, etc. That way the viewer can feel like they’ve experienced a hundred memories.
Breaking Spaces, a duet choreographed by Katie Ginn, started with many boxes of varying sizes filling the stage, accompanied by white tissue paper. It was very evident that one side of the stage was neat, tidy, everything in its place, while the other side was in a chaos state, paper and boxes everywhere. Each dancer, wearing grey hospital-like dresses, represented their respective sides, executing movement phrases to complement their spaces. Ginn lets this play out for a while as the music - which sounds collected, together, and routine - plays on. Soon the dancers meet in space with frantic movements, then switch sides of the stage. The “neat” girl seems to be thrown into confusion as she makes her way through the mess, while the “chaos” girl eventually grows her new space into more chaos. Simultaneously they both drop to the ground, to slowly meet in center, back to back, with light partnering. They slowly rotate the circle, still with no recognition of each other, and the music shifts to something more upbeat.
It seems the “neat” girl begins to help “chaos” girl, they both meet the audience with a memorable wipe of the face gesture, then shockingly the neat girl walks off the stage through the audience and leaves. All the while chaos girl seems to be stuck, in a trance, so she defaults to her need of chaos. Finally the boxes reveal their meaning as she pulls them apart revealing red tissue paper, then blue, yellow, purple, orange all over the stage. Confetti pops out of another and finally green tissue paper. The final track is upbeat and motivates chaos girl to rearrange the stage to her liking, stacking boxes, to finally stand on top of them, as the lights fade, as if she is proud. Ginn did a wonderful job of conveying her idea of space to the audience and showing two drastically different reflections of that. I think the props were well utilized and added to the message, but I was longing for a more meaningful interaction between the two dancers. How would the piece change if there was cause and effect relationship with the dancers? The music choices were perfect and helped each section of the piece progress along,which tied the message together. Ginn made me feel as if there is beauty in the chaos of things, and it might be better to embrace it versus try to clean it up.
Choreographer Melissa Cervantes took us out of the theater and into a nearby dance studio to watch her trio perform I’mpermeable. The first thing we notice is a big trampoline with a net around it and fabric covering the base. We see one dancer outside the trampoline, working around the space with slow walks and simple gestures. The music began, and the fabric is removed to reveal another dancer underneath the trampoline. All three dancers are dressed in all black with yellow paint accents on their faces and arms. For a while they are in their own worlds; one dancer inside the trampoline has a tossed quality, flopping around, hits the net and falls. The revealed dancer begins to move around the perimeter of the net, forcing his face into the net with loud audible breaths. The first dancer is dancing in the black fabric with stoic sways. Eventually the music shifts and the perimeter dancer is now inside the trampoline as well; he matches the quality of trying to break out of the net. Eventually they grabbed the fabric, pulling the final dancer into the net as they all are covered by the fabric, swaying together. Finally, one by one, they escape the net, leaving the first dancer to sit and sway as she looks out.
Cervantes was creative to choreograph outside of the theater and with a big prop such as a trampoline. I was expecting more from the prop; I thought it’s use was minimal, and she could have conveyed a similar message without it. The program notes share that Cervantes was exploring “discovering the unknown by using the notion of remembering through movement with a new sense of resilience in one’s surrounding." This, alongside the title, made me feel that the piece was going to be more visceral, powerful, and charging. I think the approach to movement was soft and internal, which didn’t resonate with the piece as a whole for me. Using the program note as a guide, maybe the dancers should have more moments “remembering” movement, which builds to the “sense of resilience” Cervantes was going for. Also the trio coming together was anticlimactic for me;, it might be nice to explore the relationship between them in that moment, giving them all a defined role that relates to each other.
The second video presented for the night was choreographed and performed by Grace Maxwell, titled Everything U Think Is True. It started with Maxwell lying on the floor, randomly arching her back, each one getting bigger and bigger. Eventually she flips over, hitting the floor, all the while we hear a heavy spoken word being recited. It mentions the tragic current events, problems with society, connections with pain, art, and God. Maxwell switches in and out of a white dress and a red dress; almost every “scene” we see her in both dresses. With the up close nature of the shot and the simplistic background of a tile floor, Maxwell’s movements are jarring alongside the weighted words. We see her trying to climb out of the small space, hanging, eventually falling. Then we see a time lapse of her lying down, body referencing all facings in space, until the video ends.
This piece was very thought-provoking, and the simple visuals complemented the intense spoken word, which mentioned so many different things. What stuck out to me was contemplating the all-knowing state, the ability to choose not to choose, and the difference between the tree of knowledge or tree of life. Putting together the title with the piece, Maxwell was making a very powerful statement, which felt almost like a PSA for people to wake up. We live in a world where routine and mundane are very normal, and her piece felt like a desperate call to think, act, and make decisions! However, with so much weighted conversation, I think Maxwell could play with connecting the audience to the spoken word a bit more so it can be digested easier. It was such a powerful piece, but I think the audience may have missed certain aspects since there was so much to take in. Maybe incorporating keywords of the spoken piece into the video, or repetition of certain phrases, could be helpful in that sense.
The next piece, Maybe it is a Becoming, Maybe it is a Beginning, was a solo choreographed and performed by Hailey Yaffee. It starts with Yaffee on the floor, center stage. She has on a red dress and is wrapped in a long brown scarf, which looked like the texture of a paper towel. The music is a beautiful opera song, which she immediately contrasts with broken, gyrating movement. Her body shakes all over and then she finds moments of balance and peace, until she falls back down to the ground. Her face expresses pain, discomfort and she makes audible screams and cries throughout the piece. Yaffee continues to go in and out of these visceral moments, still finding pauses where she seems “normal," until the end when she falls down.
Something about this piece was hauntingly beautiful. Yaffee gave the viewer a juxtaposition of opera music and the expression of pain. Her interesting shapes and intense emotion sort of mesmerized the audience into her spell. There was a relatable sense of desperation that I think resonated throughout the piece. Her title is thought-provoking and leaves us with our own interpretation of the solo. Was this a snapshot of her in a transition to another self? Or could it be the start of something yet discovered? I like that it’s open-ended and leaves room to bring your own voice into the piece. However, I was longing for her to really dive into a dance phrase with the same amount of pain and expression she was emoting, using the wrap in a more meaningful way, traveling throughout the space energetically. I think it would add another layer to what she’s already created.
The second duet of the night, Passages, was choreographed by Sonia Chapa and featured two dancers representing different dance styles, flamenco and contemporary. They started on the diagonal, backs facing one another, moving in silence. Staying true to their movement vocabulary, the flamenco dancer used her shoes to stomp the ground rhythmically, arms poised, torso and neck elongated while the modern dancer slaps down on the floor, allowing her body to ripple through her phrase. The music began, and they made their way to center. The lighting shifts to a circular shape on the floor, and the dancers set up what felt like a duel. They cautiously mirror each other's movements, staying true to their respective style, but appreciating the other. One takes center as the other circles around, then they switch pathways. Eventually this slows and they meet back to back in center, and they continue circular movement until the lights fade away.
Chapa’s piece had a calming nature to it as throughout the score we heard “we walk by faith, not by sight." I like the idea of comparing two very different dance styles and finding the overlap between them as the piece progressed. Chapa was very clear with her intention, which she shares in the program notes, “This piece is a duet of two female bodies each isolated on their own path whose intention is to arrive by faith not by sight. At the end of their journey, they intersect to embody a new identity.” I invite Chapa to further define the different styles she chose in the beginning of the piece to lead to a more explosive final identity when they merge. I felt that the representation of each style was a little “soft," but both styles are known to be very dynamic, and that energy they provide should be utilized. There is room to grow the piece even more, and it will be fun to see where Chapa takes it.
Alex Beaty choreographed a solo titled Trapped in Time and Space. The dancer starts centerstage with her back to the audience, swaying gently into a far reach, which she repeated a few times. The music begins to have a sort of popping accent to it, which the soloist reacts to with a leg or a contraction. She continues to move throughout the space and seems to have these fits of tensing up, bottling aggression, and then releases it. She notices the audience, tenses to release, and then executes a beautiful phrase that goes in and out of the floor with much intensity and emotion. She then notices the audience again, but this time she removes her jumpsuit and is left in a nude bra and shorts. The feeling shifts, the soloist now moves in an airy, light, and expansive sort of way. She’s breathing peacefully; the music and lights fade away.
Beaty’s choreography was easy to enjoy; I love the movement vocabulary and the execution. The simplicity of the piece was appreciated as well, however I’m curious to see what this would look like on more bodies. The title suggests being trapped, and I’m not sure if that read clearly with just one dancer. What more can Beaty do to reflect the idea of being trapped in time and space? I’m also not sure if the removing of the clothes was necessary, and if it was, the purpose of it wasn’t entirely clear. Was her stripping of the jumpsuit freeing her from being trapped? If so, that moment could use more emotion in the sense of becoming free.
The final piece of the night, Business in the Feet, Party in the Hands, choreographed by Andrea Pardi, started with a video of leaves crunching and then fingers with tiny pink heels placed on them walking around with a playful nature.The video fades, and the soloist enters mimicking what we watched on the video. All we can see are her legs. Four pairs of heels come down into the space, and the dancer sits on a bench and tries a few on. The popular pop culture song “Shoes” is playing, and Pardi’s choreography is playing up the lyrics. The soloist continues with simple movements, highlighting legs and heels, with a few talking gestures. There’s a short-lived moment of modern movement, then she breaks into a party vibe with a hip-hop element. Eventually she sits back down on the bench, waddling her feet. The piece ends.
Pardi definitely had the most fun piece of the evening, but I’m not sure if her point was really communicated to the audience. The title doesn’t suggest much, and the piece itself seems entirely based on shoes. If that’s what she was going for then it was a success, but I personally would have liked more substance to the piece. The choreography was simple and lacking innovation. The set design was exciting, even the entrance of the dancer was intriguing, but there wasn’t much else that was new or thought-provoking for me. I hope Pardi will develop more meaningful choreography and think about adding more dancers. The concept is hard to fully enjoy as a solo and would be even stronger with a group. If Pardi continues to highlight shoes, maybe even more attention to the feet, in and out of the heels, could lead her in new direction.
Ashley Gayle is a dancer, teacher, and choreographer residing in the San Francisco Bay Area. She is co-director of Visceral Roots Dance Company. For more info visit www.visceralroots.org.