ByGD
Chapter One. Down the Rabbit Hole. Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting and of having nothing to do.
That’s the very familiar beginning to a very new artwork. Because while many of us have been sitting around with nothing to do most of this year, local dancers have been hard at work. Seattle Dance Collective and Pacific Northwest Ballet have both created some of my favorite dances during the pandemic, and last week they added one more: ALICE.
ByGD
I almost didn’t watch Rep 2, Pacific Northwest Ballet’s second program of the 2020-2021 digital season. It wasn’t because I didn’t like Rep 1 – quite the opposite. It’s just that Thursday was one of those days when most of what I tried to do didn’t get accomplished and everything I did accomplish took twice as much time and effort as it should have. Maybe it was the crash following a post-election high, but all I wanted to do was go to bed early after watching a feel-good K-drama with a too-tall pour of rye. But I remembered how good Rep 1 was. So I tuned in to the ballet instead and was reminded once again that art is more uplifting than escapist television – even when it’s on the tv.
ByGD
Against all odds, Seattle Dance Collective is back for a second season with five new works. The first of these, Home by Penny Saunders, premiered on July 2. It was as artistically engaging as its backstory is bizarre. And in contrast to the challenges that had to be overcome to create it, there has never been a ballet with lower barriers for its audience. Home is free to view online.
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ByGD
When I heard that Pacific Northwest Ballet principals Noelani Pantastico and James Yoichi Moore were starting their own off-season dance company, I knew it was going to be something special. I gladly took the ferry to Vashon to see Program One of the Seattle Dance Collective performed at the Vashon Center for the Arts. As you know, I was so impressed with both the facility and the overall program, I ran out of space to talk about the specific dances. So here are some of my impressions of the first three pieces: “The Grey Area,” “Shogun,” and “Sur Le Fil.”
(an excerpt)
Choreography: David Dawson
Music: Niels Lanz
Staging: Rebecca Gladstone
Costume Design: Yumiko Takeshima
Lighting Design: Bert Dalhuysen
Cast I Saw: Elizabeth Murphy/Miles Pertl
PNB fans will already be familiar with the choreography of David Dawson (when I saw “Empire Noir” at PNB, it struck me as very metal.) “The Grey Area” suffered from being a good ballet surrounded by remarkable ones. While there isn’t any intriguing backstory or bizarre staging involved, this stripped down, architectural pas de deux was exactly the sort of contemporary ballet that you would want to build a company repertory around.
Devoid of bells and whistles, with a minimal violin soundtrack and neutral, almost nonexistent costumes, there was nothing to focus on here but the lines and angles of competent dancers. This was the only piece on the program with pointe work. It was a perfect introduction, establishing the company’s technical chops before challenging viewers with the more adventurous choreography to follow.
Choreography: Ivonice Satie
Music: Milton Nascimiento, Fernando Bryant
Staging: Liris do Lago
Lighting Design: Ivonice Satie
Cast I Saw: James Moore, Ezra Thomson
Moore has a personal connection to Shogun because he grew up watching Ivonice Satie’s ballet about passing down Japanese cultural heritage to the next generation in San Francisco. But this was one of the pieces I was most excited to see because of a different personal connection. Satie dedicated the piece to her grandfather who taught her the traditional Japanese arts of laido and Shinto-ryu. My husband is one of only three Americans certified to teach that style of sword work.
So of course we were looking for evidence of Shinto Ryu, and though the dancers wore hakama, the choreography was not nearly so literal. “Shogun” explores the relationship between master and disciple, which was much more obvious than martial tradition in the choreography, with one dancer often mimicking the other. On the other hand, we are only familiar with the sword arm of the Shinto Ryu curriculum. Another branch of the school practices kenbu (martial dance) which includes the use of fans. Maybe Satie was literal after all?
(By a Hair’s Breadth)
Choreography: Penny Saunders
Music: Mike Wall, Moon Dog, Yann Tiersen
Staging: Jacqueline Burnett
Lighting Design: Ben Johnson
Cast I Saw: Liane Aung, Angelica Generosa, Jim Kent, Elle Macy, Elizabeth Murphy, Miles Pertl, Ezra Thomson, Dylan Wald
Between the suspenders and the fedoras, it was inevitable that “Sur Le Fil” would remind me of Twyla Tharp’s “Waiting at the Station.” But costuming is really all those two dances have in common. In contrast to Tharp’s jazzy soundtrack, “Sur Le Fil” starts out with a poem recorded in French and moves through field recordings of a child talking, radio news broadcasts, muted drums, and the Amelie soundtrack.
The fedora hats are more than just costuming. They become props to the dance, earning so much attention from both dancer and audience that they start to feel meaningful. Unlike “Waiting at the Station,” I never discovered the metaphor in “Sur Le Fil,” but eventually the hats became a more abstract focal point. Like a mantra.
My first impression was of “Waiting at the Station,” but in the end, “Sur Le Fil” was more like “Little Mortal Jump.” It inexplicably made me want to cry.
{I attended Program 1 courtesy of SDC and Vashon Center for the Arts. The tickets were theirs; the opinions are mine.}