Ohad Naharin’s Shalosh ( Three ), which supplied some movement material for Deca Dance. Photo by Gadi Dagon.
The Batsheva Ensemble in Ohad Naharin’s Seder.
It’s fitting that I saw the Batsheva Ensemble perform the latest version Ohad Naharin’s Deca Dance at the Suzanne Dellal Center last week. You see, Deca Dance is the piece that drew me here to Israel. I wrote my Fulbright grant proposal having only seen the Batsheva Dance Company perform an earlier incarnation of this work (albeit 3 times). I hadn’t seen any of Naharin’s other dances, nor had I seen any other Israeli companies. Now - 4 years after I last saw Deca Dance, 9 and 1/2 months after landing in Israel, 2 days after finishing the term of my Fulbright grant, and 90-some dance concerts later - I feel I have come to the end of a cycle. I set out to learn about the wider field of Israeli contemporary dance, and although there is still more to explore, I have a much deeper understanding of dance’s history in Israel as well as the scope of the field today. I devoted a considerable amount of time to independent choreographers and to companies other than Batsheva, but again and again, my attention returned to the origin of my interest, the center point of Israeli contemporary dance. With many avenues of entry, my research on this company was extraordinarily rich. To learn about the past, I sorted through files of newspaper clippings, viewed old repertoire on video at the Dance Library of Israel, and heard Batsheva’s history retold by former dancers and directors. To learn about Batsheva’s more recent years, I traveled with the Batsheva Ensemble, spoke with company dancers and ensemble members, studied Gaga, and attended live performances: Ohad Naharin’s Camuyot, Zachacha, Seder, MAX, Shalosh, and Furo; Sharon Eyal’s Bertolina and Makarova Kabisa; and several evenings featuring short creations by company dancers.
And then came Deca Dance.
Just as I have changed, so too has Deca Dance, an unfixed assemblage of excerpts from Ohad Naharin’s repertory. Sure, there were some old favorites which I recognized from past versions, most notably the accumulative “Echad Mi Yodea” segment and the perennial crowd pleaser, “Dancing with the Audience” (and at this show the audience members invited onstage were more than willing to participate, with one man hamming it up to great applause). But much of this Deca Dance was built from segments of the more recent MAX, Shalosh, and Seder – none of which existed when I last saw Deca Dance in 2004 – and there was even a brand new female duet to an unusual rendering of Ravel’s “Bolero.” Having seen these later works multiple times, I found myself engaged in an interplay with this new Deca Dance : expecting certain sequencing, guessing what would come next, cataloging where I had seen each segment. The direct contrast of these excerpts next to older sections and the absence of other portions that I remembered from my previous Deca Dance viewings provided a chance to reflect on what I perceive as a shift in Ohad Naharin’s choreography towards sparer works which emphasize marvelously textured movement and finely tuned compositional forms over theatricality.
As I place Deca Dance within the context of Naharin’s repertory, Batsheva’s history, and the larger frame of Israeli contemporary dance, I realize how much I have gained from my research. I love being able to look at a dance from different angles, and with the information I have gathered, I now have a tempting menu of choices for how to view each performance. I also have had the pleasure of watching the same dancers develop over the course of the season and talking with them offstage; as I’m sure many of you know, it’s a delight to watch dancers that you know, to seek them out during the sections at which you know they excel, and to find your attention captured unexpectedly by them when they perform something with added nuance or new skill. A part of me wishes that my Fulbright could continue - after all, it’s been a dream to structure my own time and pursue independent research with few restraints! - but I am blessed with the gifts of this grant as I complete this cycle and start the next.
Riding in style with the Batsheva Ensemble on the Batsheva bus!
The theater in Kfar Saba which hosted studio Zeadim’s end-of-year performances
As a dancer who performs in a variety of aesthetic frameworks, occasionally teaches technique, stages repertory, and conducts dance history research through physical as well as traditional means, I’m always intrigued by the intricacies of training. Sometimes my inquiries are bounded by time periods. In graduate school, for instance, I cast a critical eye on the nascent techniques of American modern dance in the 1920s and 1930s. Right now, though, my inquiries are bounded by geographical space: the borders of Israel.
I started my examination of dance training in Israel by taking both Gaga classes and a variety of contemporary dance classes at studios throughout Tel Aviv-Yafo. As my body absorbs the information in these settings, I better understand the particular techniques themselves as well as the ways in which they are disseminated. Yet individual classes - and particularly the classes I take, which draw a population of working dancers and/or adults who dance for pleasure - do not provide a sense of how Israel’s training system functions, how a network of studios and schools prepare aspiring dancers for professional careers. To learn more, I’ve stepped outside of the professional Tel Aviv circuit, talked with teachers of younger dance students, and attended an array of student performances: a smorgasbord of pieces performed at the Suzanne Dellal Center by dancers from a variety of studios; a selection of works performed by students from several performing arts high schools; student compositions at the highly regarded Telma Yellin high school in Givatayim; workshop performances by young dancers who are studying Gaga with teachers from the Batsheva Ensemble; end-of-year concerts by students at the Zeadim (Steps) studio in Kfar Saba; and concerts by undergraduate students at the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance. Here are the basics, from my vantage point:
Ballet, the foundation of many dancers’ training in the U.S. and Europe, does not have strong roots here in Israel. Without a wealth of professional ballet companies and their attached academies, the country’s dance training system for children and adolescents follows a different model. There are plenty of independent studios throughout Israel, but it seems that for teenagers who are serious about becoming dancers, the key site of training is a solid high school dance department (and I mean solid - this is not at all like my public high school in the U.S., which had two classes labeled dance that primarily readied us for swimsuit season with lots of ab work set to music). The best high school programs in Israel bear some resemblance to U.S. university programs, with courses in ballet, modern dance, composition, improvisation, repertory, history, anatomy, music, and other related subjects. It’s from here that many dancers enter the professional world, further polishing their skills in workshop groups and second companies (such as those affiliated with Batsheva, the Kibbutz Contemporary Dance Company, or Vertigo Dance Company) or performing with independent choreographers. The university, which has such a prominent role in educating America’s modern dancers, is barely present in the Israeli training system. Two notable exceptions are Seminar HaKibbutzim in Tel Aviv and the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance, but their programs emphasize pedagogy rather than performance or choreography. It’s important to note that the students at these colleges are older, having spent a few years - often the most formative ones in a dancer’s life - completing army service. Some dancers get out of the military in order to train and perform during this crucial phase of artistic development.
While the nuts-and-bolts differences between Israeli dance training and American dance training are intriguing, it is what is taught in the studio itself that is most fascinating. I’m not sure how some of you trained, but until I went to college, I merely had a smattering of modern dance at Princeton Ballet and Walnut Hill’s summer ballet workshops with an extra dose thrown in through a pull-out modern dance program for high school students in my county in Jersey. Here, however - at least from the look of the performances I have seen - modern (or contemporary) dance is the name of the game. I most recently went to nearby Kfar Saba for the end-of-year performances by a local studio called Zeadim (Steps). Yes, there was some ballet and some tap on stage, but there was clearly a modern dance thrust to the training and the resulting show. The school’s director, Adi Hen-Degani, talked about the influence and inspiration of the Batsheva Dance Company, and her studio’s older students actually studied Gaga, the training method developed by Batsheva’s director Ohad Naharin. Doron Raz taught Gaga to Zeadim’s teenagers once a week and set excerpts from Naharin’s work. The 12 to 15-year-olds enthusiastically danced the accumulative “Echad Mi Yodea” section that has cropped up in various productions and that you might recognize from Deca Dance, while the 16 to 18-year olds passionately broke out into full-bodied solos in the “Arab Line” section from Virus (it has also been featured in Deca Dance). As part of the connection between Zeadim and Batsheva, the Batsheva Ensemble also performed Naharin’s Seder after each of two concerts so that families might see the progression and the possibility of where their budding dancers might be in a few years. Batsheva may not have a full school in the mold of those attached to American ballet companies (and some modern companies), but the company is building links with Israel’s existing training structures and consequently, some lucky students are making big steps forward in their abilities and artistry.
Many thanks to Eldad Mannheim, Adi, Doron and everyone involved in the Zeadim/Batsheva experience, as well as to David Dvir, Netta Blumenthal, Paul Bloom, and others who gave me a glimpse at other schools and student concerts!
The costume trunk for Seder. As a work which lays bare its compositional structure through explicit verbal explanations, repeated visual cues (like the dancers counting to four on their fingers before breaking into four counts of full-bodied movement), and combined aural and visual information (such as a series of movement accumulations performed to similarly accumulating counts), the dance’s title is appropriate: “seder” is Hebrew for “order.”
This is a bit belated, but here’s a photo journal of my May 5th outing with the Batsheva Ensemble!
It’s been a while since I’ve traveled around and performed for school audiences (I did my fair share of Nutcracker school shows with the American Repertory Ballet in the 1990s, from a tiny soldier to Snow and Flowers corps with a lot in between). But I’ve been able to live vicariously through the Batsheva Ensemble this year thanks to Eldad Mannheim, the company’s manager, who invited me to tag along with the group on a few outings. In January, I joined the Batsheva Ensemble on their trip to Be’ersheva for two morning shows of Ohad Naharin’s Zachacha, and on Monday May 5th, I again accompanied the group as they trekked to Kiryat Shmona for two performances of Naharin’s Seder.
5:55 a.m. Meet the Batsheva Ensemble at the corner of Kaplan and Ibn Gvirol in Tel Aviv. Most of the company members are already snoozing on the bus, and I quickly fall asleep too.
8:30 a.m. Arrive at the theater in Kiryat Shmona in northern Israel. Because of it’s proximity to Lebanon, Kiryat Shmona has been hit by rockets during many clashes with the PLO and Hezbollah, and the town suffered many attacks during the war in the summer of 2006. These performances were sponsored by IDB as a treat for the community’s children, who were no doubt affected by the conflict.
8:35 a.m. Breakfast! There is a long day ahead, so dancers and crew members fill up on fresh bread, veggies, cheese, tehina, coffee, and tea.
9:00 a.m. Hillel Kogan, one of the Batsheva Ensemble’s rehearsal directors, leads a spacing session onstage. Ohad Naharin created Seder for the Ensemble, and the work - which features material from MAX, Shalosh (Three in English), and Furo - debuted in July 2007. The dance can be adapted for anywhere between 12 and 17 dancers; today, 12 Ensemble members are in Kiryat Shmona to perform. Since the dancers know multiple parts and the cast constantly changes, Hillel clarifies who will be dancing each role for these two shows.
9:45 a.m. Gaga onstage, led by Hillel. As with class before Zachacha, this class includes plenty of time for the dancers to stretch and incorporates more familiar technical terminology - plié, relevé, passé, rond de jambe, etc. - than is typically included in the lessons open to the general public. I didn’t dance at all while I was in Tunisia, so I’m happy to get to move and inspired to be surrounded by such amazing dancers!
10:45 a.m. Local schoolchildren and their teachers arrive at the theater. The noise level grows . . .
10:50 a.m. Last minute notes by the dressing rooms. The dancers wear simple gray and black costumes in Seder, but there’s a twist that the audience can’t see: headphones. Part way through the work, one dancer explains (on a pre-recorded audio track) that the performers can move in unison with such precision even when the audience doesn’t hear music because they are listening to counts, beats, music, and other cues via their ear buds. Prior to the performance, the group does a sound check to make sure they are working.
11:00 a.m. (-ish - you know how school shows are . . . ) First performance of the day. Eldad gives a pre-show announcement, and the teachers try to quiet the students as the performance begins.
11:30 a.m. (-ish) The audience gets involved thanks to instructions from a dancer whose head appears on a television screen: put a hand on your heart, put a hand on the back of your neck . . . It’s not a game of Simon Sez constructed especially for young audiences - these children are challenged by the same material that adult audience members would see at an evening performance. How’s that for arts education!
12:00 p.m. (-ish) The first show is over, and the crowd goes wild!
12:20 p.m. Hillel gives notes to the Ensemble backstage while the next group of youngsters fills the auditorium.
12:30 p.m. - 1:30 p.m. Second performance of Seder for a slightly older crowd.
1:40 p.m. The crew starts to strike the set. They’ve had a long day - at 1:00 a.m. they gathered all their equipment from Tel Aviv and made their way to the theater in Kiryat Shmona by 4:00 a.m. to lay down the white marley, put up the set’s panels, and take care of all the lighting and sound work.
1:45 p.m. Lunch and time for some fresh air, sunshine, and beautiful mountain views. From Kiryat Shmona, you can see Lebanon as well as the Golan Heights.
2:00 p.m. Back on the bus to return to Tel Aviv. Many people take well-deserved naps, but I speak with Hillel and a few of the dancers. Two-and-a-half hours is a long trip by Israeli standards, and the traffic as we near Tel Aviv makes the ride a little longer.
4:55 p.m. 11 hours later, I’m home! Almost immediately, I sit down at my computer to upload my photographs and start writing. Another day’s work . . .
Many thanks to Eldad, Hillel, the Batsheva Ensemble dancers, and the crew!
Want to learn more about the Ensemble and read about my trip with them to Be’ersheva? Here’s a link to my blog.
Still want to learn more? The Batsheva Dance Company has a new website that, while still under construction, already has a lot of great information posted. Check it out at http://www.batsheva.co.il/.
Since I’ve been posting about my experiences with Gaga, I have gotten a few questions about where people can take classes. Here’s some answers:
First, there is a Gaga intensive going on this summer in Tel Aviv, Israel. Above is the advertisement, and for more information, you can contact Reut directly at the e-mail listed there.
Not in Israel or not able to come here? There are going to be a few summer Gaga and repertory intensives in the U.S. Ariel Freedman, an American who has been dancing with the Batsheva Ensemble, will be teaching from July 14-26 at the Baryshnikov Art Center in New York. The classes are already full, but there may be a wait list. To learn more about this workshop, go to this link: http://www.baryshnikovdancefoundation.org/schedules_gaga.html
If you’re on the West Coast, Bobbi Smith - another American who has been dancing with the Ensemble - will be teaching at an intensive held by the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance. You can check out this program at the following link: http://www.sfconservatoryofdance.org/intensives/index.htm
Enjoy! If anyone takes either of these workshops, I’d love to hear about it!
I still browse the New York Times arts page every morning, and I saw that Cedar Lake performed Ohad Naharin’s Decadance as part of the Joyce Theater’s 25th anniversary festivities; did anyone in NYC make it to the concert? Back here in Israel, the Batsheva company is *very* busy. In the next month and a half, I’ll be seeing Naharin’s MAX and Shalosh (Three), Sharon Eyal’s Makarova Kabisa (a new work which premiered earlier this year), and Furo, a collaboration between Naharin and the Japanese animation artist Tabaimo which will be at Tel Aviv’s port over the course of a few weeks. Plus there are plenty of concerts by other companies which I’m planning to attend, as well as end-of-year performances at arts high schools and academies. Spring is busy here!
Meanwhile, I’m off to join in festivities for Israel’s 60th birthday. There’s supposed to be some folk dancing near the Tel Aviv Museum of Art, so perhaps I’ll get to experience a different kind of Israeli dance . . .
The sign outside the Batsheva studios at the Suzanne Dellal Center in Tel Aviv.
One of the studios in Suzanne Dellal which is used for Gaga classes open to the public.
The Suzanne Dellal Center dressed up for a children’s festival during Passover. Gaga classes for the entire family were a major attraction!
I wanted to post this before leaving for Tunisia, but life was (surprise) a bit hectic. So here it is now:
When I took my first Gaga class in the fall, I was like an infant, tentatively trying out a new way of moving while also beginning to learn Hebrew. Everything was foreign to me, and processing a different framework for dancing in an unfamiliar language was a challenge. Thankfully, my Gaga teachers were willing to pepper their instructions with English, and my Hebrew tutor helped me learn the frequently used terms which I wrote down after lessons. Like a child, I steadily gained more mastery of my body and built up my communication skills; I acquired a physical language and, at least partially, the accompanying verbal language. It’s not always easy to see progress in language acquisition - but when I successfully took two Gaga classes taught almost entirely in Hebrew on April 22, I was floating both figuratively and literally (to float, or “latzoof,” is one of the most common directions in Gaga)!
April 22 was a special day. Besides taking my usual morning Gaga class at the Suzanne Dellal Center, I got to catch up with a friend visiting from abroad who enjoyed her first Gaga class ever. We spent hours dissecting it and continued our conversation with another friend of hers who has danced both here and in Europe, taking on an array of topics. Here’s a tasting of the questions we tackled: What techniques are primarily concerned with the body’s relationship to space, what techniques are more focused on the sensations and movements within the body, and where does Gaga fall in this spectrum? What is unique about the physicality used in Gaga and Ohad Naharin’s work? How has Gaga and/or the Batsheva aesthetic influenced the larger Israeli contemporary dance scene? What are the other training methods used in major contemporary companies today, both here and abroad?
I’ll leave these big questions aside for the time being - they’ll take a lot of time, space, and energy to explore (clearly, even while I write, I’m a Laban-influenced dancer), plus I need to keep you coming back for more! - and for now I’ll continue on with the events of April 22. To cap off my day of Gaga, I joined over 70 people for a special monthly class taught by Ohad Naharin himself in the Batsheva Dance Company’s spacious main studio. By 8 p.m., Studio Varda was packed with a diverse crowd: men and women; 20-somethings and 30-somethings, middle-aged folks, and senior citizens; dancers (including some I recognized as Gaga teachers, Batsheva company and ensemble dancers, and people I’ve met at contact jams) and non-dancers; even a few young Ethiopian students who have been studying Gaga as part of one of Batsheva’s outreach programs. With such a range, I couldn’t help wondering, what are these people’s stories? How did they come to Gaga, and what kept them coming back to classes? Gaga’s ability to attract followers outside of the typical dance class population is truly extraordinary. Not only do participants commit to at least one class weekly, but many Gaga enthusiasts take advantage of the unlimited monthly plan and eagerly take multiple classes per week. When it comes time for Ohad’s monthly class, a huge crowd shows up, and the energy in the studio is absolutely electric. The evening of the 22nd was no different - the excitement was palpable when Batsheva’s artistic director entered the room.
Although at other Gaga classes I’ve met an assortment of new immigrants or foreigners on extended stays in Israel, the population of this class was overwhelmingly Israeli; indeed, when Ohad asked if there was anyone who didn’t speak Hebrew, I was one of (I think) only 2 people who raised their hands. Floating (literally) while he asked if my Hebrew was good enough for him to teach in his native language, I reflected on my morning class and answered “Ken” (”Yes”). Thus I plunged into his most Hebrew-based class yet. We walked, stretched, and shifted our weight from leg to leg. We found circular motions in different body parts, generated movement from the image of balls traveling through our bodies, and gave and received energy from partners far away from us. We grooved, laughed out loud while grooving, and then let the memory of that laughter guide our own personal dances. We shook, moved in slow motion, and then did the two actions together (it’s possible!). And yes, we floated some more.
As has happened to me before in Ohad’s class as well as in several other lessons, there were many magical moments of transcendence during this evening - moments when, as the introductory Gaga handout states, there are “links” formed between “conscious and subconscious movement.” If the verbal cues in Gaga are indeed suggestions rather than the hard-and-fast rules which govern many dance techniques, they are at times picked up by my body and mind with neither resistance nor with a concerted effort to follow them. It’s as if they seep into me through the air, and I respond physically without forcing myself to act in accordance with what I heard. The processing of this verbal information (and, for that matter, of the visual information around me - and perhaps the energetic information flowing through the room) is not purely a conscious one. It’s almost as if I am responding to subliminal messages, despite the fact that the messages are conveyed directly and I know I am receiving them!
I should note that this is not always the case. Remember the first time someone asked you to pat your head while rubbing your belly, and your brain hurt from concentrating as you tried to master that coordination? That still happens sometimes, like when I attempted to shake and move in slow motion simultaneously during this last class. Particular challenges - especially new ones - demand a heightened level of attentive, active exploration. But when I’m just shaking, quaking, floating, or responding to certain other suggestions, it can be a different matter. The wonderful upshot is that through both the conscious and subconscious exploration that Gaga affords, I am discovering a wealth of movement possibilities, physical connections, and dynamic options beyond those fostered by my previous training.
I could go on and on about Gaga, but I’m scheduled to join the Batsheva Ensemble tomorrow morning at 6 a.m. so that I can see them perform Ohad Naharin’s Seder. Since I’m still recovering from the last leg of my Tunisia trip - a 30-hour journey on a collection of planes, trains, and automobiles as well as one ferry from the island of Jerba to the mainland - I should get to sleep early. But I suspect that my journey tomorrow will offer more goodies to share!
Intrigued by Gaga? Here’s some more blog entries on it:
In Israel and want to try Gaga? Besides multiple daily classes in Tel Aviv and weekly classes in Jerusalem, there will be a 2-week intensive this summer from July 13-25 at Suzanne Dellal! More details to follow.
>>Hey Matt, nice to see you (albeit extremely briefly) Thursday night at Batsheva at BAM.<<
Matt did such an elegant job of explaining the evening’s piece. Both my friends and I had seen Decadance at Cedar Lake (which I understood to be a compilation of a some of his more popular pieces over the years) and it was interesting to see how this evening had a different feel. A bit less theatrical I guess, and perhaps more focused on the movement.
Earlier in the week (Monday to be exact) I took Sophs on the bike (juicing the bike up for the ride cross-town, above) and we went to see Ohad Naharin and the Batsheva Dance Company at the Guggenheim’s Works & Process series.
Every time I go to a Works & Process event I am always blown away by what a great deal it is. The theater is really incredible - also designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, it’s very intimate in a highly stylized way, directly below the famous Rotunda. The programming is fantastic, and it’s great to be able to hear the artists speak about their work (and process!) before the final version is performed in all it’s glory.
I am always a bit surprised by the audience, though. It seems like this is the sort of thing that a younger set could really get into. There’s even a wine and food reception in the Rotunda afterwards, which the artists usually attend - amazing! And yet, it seems that the majority of the audience is almost always much older. Not that there is anything wrong with that - it just seems like there are a lot of people who might be missing out! So, if you’ve never been to a Guggenheim Works & Process event, check it out! I promise you won’t be disappointed
On that note, I’ll tell you a bit about what we saw (and heard). Before the event began, there were two dancers on stage with no music, going through movements that looked fluid and intensional, but in a free sort of way. That flow is achieved through a highly defined movement language, developed by Naharin and called GAGA (apparently he wanted to call it CACA, but friends warned him that that may not be the best choice of words). The result is interestingly human in an unexpected way.
Moderator Anna Kisselgoff started out by asking Naharin to give us all more details about GAGA. He started in a general way, speaking about efficiency of movement (like an animal moving by instinct), learning new movement habits and getting rid of old ones. letting go, surrendering, being more aware, a sense of flow and flotation, the relation of bones and flesh… he also mentioned how his interests in Thai Chi and Swimming were inspirations for this vocabulary.
One of the first demonstrations from the dancers (besides the warm-up intro while people were taking their seats) was to show the difference between movements that happen TO YOU, and ones that YOU DECIDE to make.
Naharin asked them to SHAKE. The dancers then slowly started to shake their bodies with intention, but in a very understated way. It was clear that THEY were making the shaking happen. He then asked them to QUAKE. Now you got the feeling that there was some force within them that was causing their bodies to start shaking. It was happening TO them. He explained that GAGA was a combination of things the we decide to do, and things that happen to us.
He then delved into a more detailed explanation of GAGA, explaining various terms that represent different movement ideas.
I’m probably spelling these all wrong, but hopefully you’ll get the idea (or perhaps someone who knows how these are spelled can let us know!).
The first one he talked about was LENA, which means source. It refers to the area between your navel and your groin, from which the direction of movement is created.
Then he spoke of BIBA, which stands for the stretching of the body away from the sit bones.
Another was LUNA, which represented the insides of your hands and feet and the bases of your fingers and toes.
Then ASHID, using the outer sides of your feet by moving your pelvis or knees, which echos into the rest of your body and spine. And then FASHI, the feeling of the feet being glued to the floor resulting in more movement in the joints.
OBA, which represents giving in, surrendering, and letting go, allowing you to be more explosive and quick. He spoke about explosiveness, and how it should happen at the beginning of the movement, and then you should just let go and allow it to continue. He gave the example of a grand battement, where the initial explosion should happen at the beginning, and you then allow the leg to continue up.
Also, Ella, which means 30%. He said the name came from a lazy dancer, but then clarified that he appreciates laziness, that lazy people change the world. Laziness forces you to be efficient, and prevents you from being wasteful.
And my favorite, GINA, which is about being silly. The ability to laugh at oneself is a virtue, he says. He explained it as “being available to be tickled”.
“It is not a matter of opinion. Mirrors are bad for dancers.”
He also mentioned how his dancers do not dance with mirrors… that mirrors destruct and disturb the dancers… that they take away the ability for a dancer to connect to things around them. I totally agree, although unfortunately still find it very difficult to trust what I am doing without ever having seen the movement on my body in a mirror. I suppose that is the curse of growing up as a dancer in front of mirrors - as most of us do. It is a tool, that can be helpful in some cases (imho) and harmful in others.
After hearing him speak of all these points of the GAGA movement vocabulary, it was fun to then see the dancers dance again, and be able to pick up on the things he described. You could now start to see some of the pattern of thought that was going on within these dancers, and why certain movements would follow others, or why they were appropriate. It was fantastic!
At other points during the presentation, he would have the dancers do small excerpts from the pieces that we would later see at BAM, but sometimes to different music than the music that is in the actual pieces. During the Q&A someone asked how intertwined the music and choreography were for Naharin, and he explained… Movement carves out space, and music marks time. Music can add character but is really there for keeping time. It is this fusion of different ingredients that creates something new.
It was definitely an amazing experience to see and listen to the process and thoughts of the artist in such an intimate setting, and to then see the finished piece a few nights later. I wished that my friends could have also seen the W&P presentation beforehand, as it really gave you a preparedness for paying attention to the movement, beyond even just seeing the piece as a whole. I wonder what the experience was like for the Cedar Lake dancers in exploring and then performing Naharin’s work. It would also be interesting to know how people who took his workshops around that time enjoyed the experience. I remember our friend Tonya Plank attended the workshop (click the link to see her description of it). I would have loved to have gone, but it was at a time when my hip pain was at its worst. Maybe next time… or perhaps if I find myself in Tel Aviv, I will stop by!
