Archive for installation
May 17, 2008 at 9:37 am · Filed under dance, installation, choreography, ohad naharin, batsheva, DEBORAH
The building for Furo, which was constructed especially for the installation at Tel Aviv’s port.
At the entrance to the performance space, this board lists the pairs of dancers who will be performing each loop.
Yam and Inbar, two lovely staff members decked out in uniform who ushered on Friday.
Friday was the opening of Furo, and I made it back to the port for its first few loops (yes, I was hooked - I stayed for 2.5 cycles before tearing myself away). Besides wanting to view the work itself again, I wanted to see how the installation functioned with a real audience. As dance-goers, we’re accustomed to being ushered in together prior to the performance, which has a single fixed beginning. We watch, we clap during the curtain calls, and we get up together to exit at the end. We share an experience within a defined period of time.
With Furo, though, people are issued tickets with a general two-hour time frame. They enter whenever they arrive in that time block, and then they leave whenever they like. Consequently, there’s a nearly constant trickle of people in and out of the installation. It takes quite a coordinated effort on the part of the staff to ensure that this movement does not disrupt the performance, and I observed with interest how several strategically placed ushers reminded audience members to turn off their phones and guided viewers to empty spots in the darkened space. Some fellow viewers stayed for a few cycles, while others chose to leave after they saw all the material (I heard a few whispers of, “We’ve seen this before!”). Although each pair of performers maintains a clear-cut start and finish, each audience member has a different beginning and end. It’s still a shared experience - but it’s much more fluid.
Besides getting my fill of Furo this week, I had the pleasure of seeing the Batsheva Dance Company perform Ohad Naharin’s MAX on Wednesday evening at the Suzanne Dellal Center. The performance was electrifying, and I was overtaken by a powerful compulsion to write when I returned home. This little essay is responsible for a major case of sleep deprivation (I sat down at my computer at 2 a.m. that night!), but I hope you’ll enjoy it:
During the brief blackouts in Ohad Naharin’s MAX, I quickly tore my eyes away from the stage to steal glances at my friend Nitzan. Each time I caught variations of the same expression on his face: eyes wide with amazement and mouth stretched into an even wider grin.
I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a bit of a “dance dork” (a few of my friends in graduate school and I threw around this term frequently). With my penchant for dance history and analysis, I’m probably not the typical audience member. Give me a brilliantly-crafted piece and I will fall in love, counting the ways in which the choreography captures my attention and my affection. Love at first sight is possible in the arena of dance, but sometimes even the most excellent work takes a bit of time to win over my heart fully. Such was the case with Ohad Naharin’s MAX. I first saw MAX in December, and due to fatigue, I didn’t take in the dance with the freshest eyes. When I re-read my files before this second viewing, I saw that I had taken only a few hasty notes which focused on extremely satisfying sections marked by fine compositional structure. But after tonight’s performance of MAX, I’m in love. At least in my eyes, the work as a whole is indeed brilliant.
MAX’s movement is mesmerizing and wide-ranging, from tightly gestural to gloriously full-bodied, from slow and steady to sudden and speedy. At times the dancers work with a meticulous sense of control, while at other points they perform with breathtaking abandon. While inventive and well-executed movement alone can captivate me, MAX also offers plenty of compositional excitement (I told you I was a dance dork!). The pacing of this work was for me, in a word, perfect. Naharin often indulges in one compositional mechanism for longer than many other dancemakers, but the choreographic technique never overstays its welcome – it just blossoms fully. Here’s one example: a dancer tilts wildly out of kilter in a virtuoso solo and then is swept into an explosion of movement from the company, which is scattered across the stage in small groups, each of which has its own phrase; together, the ensemble paints the space with their bodies, arms and legs leaving traces of motion behind them. Out of this grows another solo, which again dissolves into the company’s grouped dancing. After only a few cycles I know what to expect, but my mind still delights in searching for the start of each solo and enjoys the wash of movement from the group. Here and elsewhere, Naharin senses the right moment for a shift and recharges my attention. Sometimes blackouts clear the slate, but more often my eyes are refreshed by extreme juxtapositions: stillness and motion; unison and organized chaos; slow and fast; small and large; smooth and sharp; full ensemble sections and trios or solos.
MAX excited me but in a different way than some of Naharin’s more overtly theatrical productions like Decadance, Zachacha, and Anaphase. Decadance, for one, is absolute fun - I’ve seen it win over several audiences easily. But MAX is in another category. It doesn’t have the theatrical elements which can engage less-seasoned audience members. There is no set, no narrative, and no characters (though for me the gestural motifs, repeated tableaux, and chanting create a sense of a tribe with its own unique rituals). There are no displays of emotion despite one usage of a smile. The dancers are dressed in simple shorts and tanks rather than more elaborate costumes. Furthermore, MAX itself is not an “easy” work. The sound score is challenging. Melodious music played by traditional, recognizable instruments is replaced by low unidentifiable sounds, grating industrial noises, deep eerie male voices speaking in an invented language and droning in counting sections, and long periods of silence. Some people might consider the movement aesthetic challenging as well; there is no attempt at the prettiness of ballet or of some modern techniques despite the inclusion of recognizable classical positions. And in a work that centers so much on composition, the choice of choreographic tools might also prove taxing to certain audience members. The frequent usage of movement accumulations, with repeated movements building into longer and longer phrases, may wear on some viewers’ eyes. So I while I loved the structure and was moved by MAX, I found myself wondering on what level Nitzan (or any non-dance dork) was connecting to the work. Were less seasoned dance viewers enjoying the work’s formal elements? Would they too be moved by the dance?
The answer: yes. The audience clapped enthusiastically for several sets of bows. And as Nitzan’s animated facial expressions suggested, he did indeed enjoy the concert. We talked excitedly about the choreography and the performance of it as we meandered back towards our neighborhood, and without my even asking, he talked poetically about how he connected to the work. MAX was, he said, “Food for the soul.” You can’t get much better than that!
Recent Posts by deborah friedes
May 14, 2008 at 7:42 am · Filed under dance, technology, installation, video art, ohad naharin, batsheva, DEBORAH, tabaimo
Signs for Furo in Tel Aviv’s port area.
The building which houses the installation.
The sign at the entrance to the installation. “Furo” means “bath” in Japanese.
A question was asked in Hebrew, restated in English, and then translated into Japanese. This was part of the scene at yesterday’s press conference for Furo, a collaboration between Ohad Naharin and the Japanese video artist Tabaimo.
In the last two decades, Israeli choreographers - led by Naharin - have pushed the boundaries of their art form along with their foreign counterparts. Furo continues this move forward. Globalization, collaboration, installation, technology, and video art are some of the hot words right now, and every one of these terms can be used in a discussion about Furo. The seed for the production began in New York City, where Naharin saw an exhibition of Tabaimo’s Japanese Bathhouse, and the collaboration between the Israeli choreographer and the Japanese video artist was initially shown in Stockholm. Now the installation - with Tabaimo’s video projected onto three screens which shape a stage space dotted with yellow buckets and flanked by two dancers standing on boxes with rotating platforms - is in Tel Aviv, with tickets at a mere 60 shekels in conjunction with Israel’s 60th birthday. Over the next few weeks, audiences will flock to the city’s port to see the work, which loops continuously for several hours nearly every day. Viewers can filter in and out as they like; meanwhile, pairs of Batsheva dancers trade off performing duty partway through each loop (one full cycle is 45 minutes). I got to preview the work (and make my way through a Q-and-A session primarily in Hebrew!) at the press conference and can’t wait to go back to see it with a regular audience on Friday. I have a feeling I’ll stay for a few cycles . . .
Recent Posts by deborah friedes
May 1, 2007 at 3:29 pm · Filed under TONY, dance and technology, installation, event, performance
Posted by Tony Schultz
This Sunday I went to see The Movement Movement presented by Martha Williams. The venue was a strange two-floor 7000 square foot converted retail clothing store with no address at South Street Seaport. This (dis)location provided an interesting space for the installation and performance of this project. The work consisted of three dances that blended into each other.
The first piece Stacked used the old changing rooms to stage 9 simultaneous performances. Each artist was responsible for creating small environment which they performed in. The artists included Scotty the Blue Bunny, Eric Bradley, Clare Byrne, Alberto Denis, Jen Kosky, Amy Larimer, Peter and Vicky Virgin, Luke Wiley and Martha Williams. Each room had sound and video feed that were mixed in the main space by sound artist newclueless and video artist Chris Jordan. Though I felt a bit claustrophobic watching the dances in the confined viewing space amidst many other audience members, I enjoyed seeing the performers up close. The dancers were very focused in each of their environments which made watching them feel particularly voyeuristic. The video feeds also added to the surveillance gestalt.
Stacked culminated in all of the dancers leaving their separate spaces and convening in the upstairs common space to improvise together. I watched from the top of the staircase. At one point Scotty the Blue Bunny set a brief case down at my feet. Shortly after all of the performers formed a procession to relocate to the bottom floor. The last performer in the line, Luke Wiley picked up the briefcase that had been left at my feet and followed the rest of the group downstairs. This precession was beautiful as it put me into such close proximity to the dancers. Many brushed against me as they passed. I felt my breathing adjusting to the tempo of the slow moving dancers, drawing me in as a performer.
The precession ended downstairs where Martha Williams and Luke Wiley danced a duet titled Currency Break. I had seen Luke dance as a member of Misnomer in Future Perfect. He is one of those tall, long legged bendy dancers that is hard to keep your eyes off. Martha Williams is also a tall statuesque dancer who is really gorgeous to watch. The power of these two creatures made for a stunning dance. In the midst of their duet the briefcase Luke had picked up from my feet reappeared. The two struggled with the case and ended up throwing it open. Its contents came spilling out. Stacks of cash! Just what I like. The two then used scissors to destroy the bundles of currency. I went downstairs to recover one of the bundles before they were all destroyed. It makes a great memento. The duet ended with a solo by Luke. It was a pleasure to watch from only a few feet away.
During the procession, duet and solo the videographer sent a live video feed to a multimedia mixing board that produced multiple live remixes shown in the main space on various projectors. The camera work, video mixing and sound were well executed and made an impressive technical performance that was integrated and complemented the “real” dancing bodies.
Recent Posts by tony schultz
April 28, 2007 at 3:23 pm · Filed under TONY, installation, performance, black cherokee, otis houston
Earlier this month I wrote a post about an incredible New York City performance artist named Black Cherokee.
He transmits messages from the side of the FDR and Harlem River Drive at 125th St, underneath the entrance of the Triborough Bridge. This week there was another transmission posted roadside.
Clearly Black Cherokee reads The Winger, saw my post, and is telling me “Yes”. But yes to what? Perhaps my interpretation of his work. Black Cherokee is giving us a critique of America, and its flirtation with fascism, by raising issues of race, gender, class, consumerism and politics in the contemporary landscape of a “war on terror” and accelerated consolidations of wealth and power. Black Cherokee is a self proclaimed patriot and fighter for freedom. His video shows his concern with the national security apparatus attack on figures such as civil rights attorney Lynn Stewart.
His poem “America I Love You” expresses these sentiments.
America America I love you yes I do.
America America red white and blue.
America America all it’s people fron sea to sea.
America America God blessed us all and want us all to be free.
America America yes God shined his lite on thee.
America America can’t you see it shinning shinning shinning through me.
America America wake up and let’s get on the ball or
America America will soon soon fall.
America America yes God shined his everlasting light on thee.
America America it’s time it’s time for everyone to be free.
Listen to a sample of the song here.
Thanks you for your work, your art, and your message Otis. They are important to me and everyone else. I feel lucky to be able to correspond across this space.
Recent Posts by tony schultz
April 25, 2007 at 7:23 pm · Filed under dance, culture, film, installation, event
Posted by Tony Schultz
This weekend I will be going to see the movement movement & friends. Come check it out.
The Movement Movement & Friends Move In
A show/installation/film showing/video/sound event-happening-like-thing at an old empty 7000 sq ft retail space in the South Street Seaport.
April 28, at 8 PM (Sat)
April 29 at 7 PM (Sun)
> 8 PM “Stacked”
“Stacked” is a changing room installation.
(People will be milling about during this portion of the performance event.)
The Movement Movement and 7 guest artists will each occupy a room and streaming video from each room will feed into the main space, capturing portions of the dance, manipulated in the moment by video artist Chris Jordan. All dancers will be mic-ed, and there will be integrated sound improvisation in the main space by newclueless. “Stacked” will culminate with “Currency Break, Chapter 1 & 2″ by The Movement Movement.
Guest artists include Scotty the Blue Bunny, Eric Bradley (Tori Sparks & Leila Zimbel), Clare Byrne, Alberto Denis, Amy Larimer, Peter and Vicky Virgin.
> Following “Stacked,” “Broken Rose Portal” a new short dance film by Martha Williams will be premiered.
> A party with VJ and DJ will follow.
WHERE:
Front Street and Beekman (right next to 207 Fulton), Take the 2, 3, A, C, J, M, Z, 4, 5 to Fulton Street or Broadway/Nassau; walk east toward the Seaport, when you arrive at Red Restaurant and the Bodies exhibit (Front and Fulton), take a left, the space is one block down.
TICKETS:
No RSVP required. Tickets are $15 for general admission/$10 for those that are starving. All proceeds will go to the artists and upcoming projects.
MORE INFO:
www.themovementmovement.org
Recent Posts by tony schultz
April 8, 2007 at 6:00 pm · Filed under artists, culture, art, TONY, installation, new york city, politics, performance, black cherokee, otis houston, poet
Watch Black Cherokee’s video here.
Otis Houston is an artist and poet. He calls himself Black Cherokee and can be seen on the side of the FDR Drive South at the 125th St entrance, underneath the Triborough Bridge. His work consists of performance art and installations made of poetic signs and found objects which he carefully arranges. I have been watching his work for over 15 years, though he may have been creating art for much longer than this. Black Cherokee is the most prolific artist and performer I know. Since traffic is slow and constant in this section of the FDR Drive South I am sure millions of people have seen his work. In an almost alchemical transformation, Black Cherokee has turned a forgotten urban dead zone into a magical performance space.
In a recent installation Black Cherokee put up a big sign that read “Got Debt? Live Well, Eat Better, Spend Less“. Weeks before that he had a small sign up simply reading “Try“. These gestures brighten peoples lives. They are free and, unlike most roadside messages, invite viewers into a space of creativity rather than consumerism. These are gifts and am happy each time I receive one. I enjoy sharing these gifts with others and am glad to be giving some of his work to you.
I saw my favorite piece of his in the summer of 2003. Otis had hundreds and hundreds of books piled up in a sort of fortress. He was standing in the middle of this structure with books strapped to his body, on his head, his arms, his legs, all over. It looked like a suit of armor. He was shaking his arms and pointing violently at the traffic as it passed. His gesticulations had the same wild and authoritarian physicality as one sees in speeches made a Benito Mussolini or other such period dictator. Though I will not attempt a full exegesis of this performance clearly Otis was saying something about power and knowledge, performance and pedagogy, maybe even fascism. This image has stuck in my head ever since I have seen it.
See another account of his work here.
Otis is not crazy. He is simply disseminating his work by any means necessary. Any artist should be willing to do the same, even at risk of seeming crazy. In fact, an artist who is not pushing at the surface of sanity from time to time might not be trying hard enough. I am happy to help propagate his work, philosophy and ideas. Black Cherokee inhabits a space of political and artistic discourse far outside the academy. Thats what makes his work so wonderful. He is not trying to get rich or famous, he is simply doing the work because he knows it is important.
I used to think he did it to save his own life. Now I believe he does it to save our lives.
Thank you Otis.
Read some of Otis Houston’s poetry by visiting poetry.com and searching for poems by Otis Houston.
RED YELLOW BLACK and WHITE
Why can’t we Love each other
With all our might
Red Yellow Black and White
Why can’t we live in PEACE
And never never never Fight
Red Yellow Black and White
We need each other
Like the day need the night
Red Yellow Black and White
Is it to hard
For us to do what is right
Red yellow Black and White
We all know that it’s evil
We must fight with all our might
Red Yellow Black and White
Recent Posts by tony schultz
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