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San Francisco Chronicle, March 13, 2007
Garrett dancers with Del Sol Quartet
Within minutes of the start of Janice Garrett & Dancers' new "StringWreck," one dancer has wrestled an actual violinist, precious instrument in hand, to the floor while another dancer is pulling the violist's hair while he plays on. But that's only the most flamboyant way the hourlong work, which opened Thursday and repeats tonight and Sunday at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts Forum, moves a step beyond most collaborations between dance and music.
The dance - a team effort of Garrett, fellow choreographer Charles Moulton and the Del Sol String Quartet - is a delight from start to finish. It takes what could have been a merely cute, contrived concept - dancers and musicians collide - and shapes from it a continually thoughtful, surprising and even touching journey.
Of course it helps that Garrett is one of this city's most eloquent choreographers, capable of crafting exquisitely sculpted streams of movement for her angelic but never saccharine performers. But watching "StringWreck," it's not possible to separate Garrett's William Blake-reminiscent lines from Moulton's sense of structure and wit and the Del Sol String Quartet's adventurous musicianship - and physicality. Witnessing the interplay, you get the feeling that, rather than writing a catchy grant proposal and working together in some preconceived way, these parties took the studio time to let their relationships, and their contributions, grow organically.
The piece breathes. Sometimes the musicians control the dancers, making them writhe as though possessed by dissonant drones, and sometimes the dancers control the musicians, hoisting them on their shoulders to rearrange them as they play. There is danger and tension in this breach - early on, the dancers take violins and stick them between their thighs, tiptoeing cartoonishly and thrusting them like phalluses at the audience seated on three sides, and you can't help but think how much those instruments cost.
Often it's as though the musical selections - everything from George Antheil to an Astor Piazzolla tango - are driving the dancers and musicians, like a spell, to showdown. During one frenzy, violinist Rick Shinozaki actually somersaults while eking out a few notes, and viola player Charlton Lee folds up and gets squashed like a bug by a strident Nol Simonse.
But there are both capers and serious caresses, moments when the music takes the fore, or the dancing. In one of my favorite sections, cellist Hannah Addario-Berry simply plays the "Dialogo" section of Gyorgy Ligeti's Sonata for Solo Cello while sitting atop the dancers, being inched forward ever so subtly by their shuffles. In another highlight, Simonse dances a doleful solo to the folk song "Black Is the Color (of My True Love's Hair)," and its repeated distinctive gestures - jumping and pawing the air in swirls, shaking hands, then holding palms out like turning blades - would constitute a gem of expressive movement in any context.
A longtime Janice Garrett & Dancers member, Simonse is moving with striking beauty these days, rolling like mercury from shape to shape, his whiplash body incapable of holding an inexpressive line. Dudley Flores, Kaitlyn Ebert, and tiny Tanya Bello are all clear, controlled movers and compelling presences, but not yet paragons of Garrett's style.
Jacob Petrie's lighting and Marlowe Bassett's costumes keep things simple, the better to register the clarity of ideas on stage. Late in the piece, Shinozaki plays the Adagio from Bach's Sonata No. 1 while the dancers arrange footstools beneath him, surrounding him in ever more heavenward-reaching embraces. It's the quiet emotional climax of "StringWreck," and the loud climax comes next in an explosive Piazzolla tango.
The choreographers being Garrett and Moulton, both deft formalists, every movement motif returns in kaleidoscopic fashion for the driving finale to Elena Kats-Chernin's "Fast Blue Village." Then, just to keep the game fair, the musicians teach the dancers to play "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." The Del Sol String Quartet's obvious affection for the dancers as their notes sounded like ailing cats couldn't be manufactured. And the beneficiaries of this charming rapport are in the audience, along for a wild, wonderful ride.
Rachel Howard, Special to The Chronicle
March 12, 2007
Venerable Mainstream Aesthetic
The euphoria one experiences during the opening moments of Janice Garrett’s Brink, as bodies spiral from the wings at a breakneck velocity, can make you a bit giddy. It’s not merely the speed or the way that the movement fits Moses Sedler’s commissioned string score so snugly. It’s the unspoken message that, in dance, the entire cosmos is there, in the body. The modern dance world once believed that before deconstructive ironies buried the credo deeper than Etruscan ruins, and disgorged what one calls postmodernism, with its lame attempts at kinetic inclusionism and irony laid on with a trowel.
Garrett’s fifth home season, which opened a two-week run Friday (March 9) at Fort Mason’s Cowell Theater, proposes that kind of venerable mainstream aesthetic without faltering. The quantity of new work introduced last weekend is not exceptionally generous for a company that has not performed for 15 months, but being in the presence of Garrett’s lively, responsive company carries you through the program. The revivals of Brink and the uproarious Fast Brass (both 2005) buoy you in the first part of the program. Of the two premieres, 10 Studies on the Vicissitudes of Grief, is the one deserving of the most attention. Guest Charles Moulton’s 1991 Chickens, in its San Francisco premiere, proved a delectable comic creation with a serious message. Altogether, the program seems an almost ideal introduction to Garrett’s style and aesthetic. And her taste in friends is impeccable.
Brink moves in a four-part, almost symphonic form (reflecting the music), but the fast partnering gambits and lifts on the fly look treacherous. Truth to tell, the six members of the company (Jennifer Bishop Orsulak, Kara Davis, Julian De Leon, Bliss Kohlmyer-Dowman, Heidi Schweiker, Nol Simonse) sometimes threatened to come unhinged Friday. Partnerings were occasionally flubbed; balances and placements wobbled. One notices these infractions because of the clarity of Garrett’s steps, one senses the trajectory before hand. If Garrett’s choreography recalls anyone, it is surely José Limón’s. Both ennoble the body, respect its proportions and exploit its expressive possibilities. Garrett lets raised arms carry much of her import in the third section; the legs are spotlit in the fourth, yet there’s never a feeling of exploitation or gimmickry.
Regrettably, Archimedes’ Revenge, the second premiere, looks very much like a retread of Brink, right down to the string music (by Michael Thomas). The lifts are airier here (I presume the title refers to displaced bodies and such); and the scooping arms and the propelling of dancers over hunched torsos suggest Paul Taylor. The work is handicapped by some frightful costumes, all bespangled mud-brown flowing fabric with peek-a-boo openings in the back for the men. These eyesores, I have learned, are the replacements for the flowing white duds you can see in the company’s advertisements. Rehearsal outfits would be an improvement.
Garrett’s other premiere exerts considerably more fascination. She should more frequently mine the introspection of 10 Studies on the Vicissitudes of Grief. Garrett has drawn the pointillistic score from the works of that uncategorizable avant-garde icon of a couple of decades ago, Charlemagne Palestine. The pinpoint lighting casts rays of illumination on moments of shared tragedy. The ending, with bodies placed head-to-toe on the stage, is quietly stunning.
The charms of Fast Brass, fortunately, have not faded. The music of a mad Romanian band, Fanfare Ciocarlia, accompanies this wonderfully exuberant foray into quasi-folk dance. It’s village square, feast day fare in some Balkan province, and the dancers, with the men in loopy black berets, pound their way into your sympathies.
Moulton’s 1991 Chickens delivers a wry parable about being different. David Cale’s laconic narrator introduces himself as "a sissy," who has adopted a duck that thinks it’s a chicken. The timing is perfect and the performances, by Simonse as the protagonist and Bishop-Orsulak as the plucky, if not plucked figure (in red bodystocking), represent movement comedy at its best. Special words for the members of the barnyard follies, eight performers who cluck and stomp with verve. They lay no eggs, and the ringleader, Noé Serrano, who clucks loudest, is true chicken à la king.
By ALLAN ULRICH , Voiceofdance.com
danceviewtimes, April 10, 2008
A Wreck that Soars
Gimmicks are all the rage these days. The idea of pulling the members of a string quartet out of their chairs to have them interact with dancers sounded like a clever marketing device but not something one necessarily wanted to see. In fact “StringWreck,” the collaboration between Janice Garrett & Dancers and the Del Sol String Quartet turned out to be a deliciously entertaining, slightly wacky evening of music and dance that could charm a turnip. Collaborating choreographers Garrett and her partner Charles Moulton set the tone but its blithe spirit floated on Del Sol’s exceptionally rich musical choices.
Garrett’s six-year old company has established a reputation for beautifully shaped choreography set to unusual scores. That’s something she has in common with the Del Sol Quartet who specialize in an eclectic repertoire of new music, much of it written for them. Moulton is best known for his Precision Ball Passing pieces who also works in theater and film.
From the opening gesture in which the dancers wove their way through the players and then broke out into space as if pushing windows open, the piece suggested an anything-is-possible spirit that was both light-hearted and meticulously realized. Dancers and musicians embraced their encounters with a rush of eagerness as if they had been confined to tight quarters for too long. The hour-long work’s finely calibrated sections appealed in part because of the delicacy of even its more robust aspects. The piece ebbed and flowed with touches of humor, puzzlement, tenderness, confrontations and even a flirtation or two. Everything was brushed with the lightest of touches.
At times, the dancers acted like pesky nuisances trying to interrupt the musicians’ concentration but at the string players’ turn, their assertive crescendos cowed the dancers into backbends of submission. If the musicians were often acted upon—unceremoniously carried about, having their music stands snatched from them—they out-maneuvered their colleagues in the “Allegro Energetico” of Murray Schaefer’s String Quartet No. 3. There the musicians barked, snarled and shouted all the while playing, creating the evening’s most wonderful havoc.
Even the necessary break was choreographed. Del Sol tuned their instruments; the dancers refreshed themselves with water. Everyone gargled—in harmony.
“StringWreck” included music as diverse as Astor Piazzola, George Antheil and JS Bach. Each of the string players performed a solo. These anchored this beguiling journey into mix and match and acted as quiet focal points for the work’s thirteen sections.
Cellists need to sit to perform comfortably. Though Hannah Addario-Berrio proved herself quite willing to be airborne, the dancers obliged her for “Dialogo” from Ligeti’s Sonata for solo cello. With her feet resting on the chests of two supine dancers and a third’s back serving as “bench”, they delicately propelled her forward as if on a cart. Another high point was Charlton Lee’s viola solo. Standing on a stool in a dramatic spotlight, he soulfully played a movement from Max Reger’s Suite No.1 as the others performers quietly and slowly processed along in the shadows. For Rick Shinozaki’s playing of the “Adagio” from Bach’s Sonata No.1, the dancers built an ascending stairway that surely suggested a passage to heaven.
“StringWreck” four dancers performed excellently. Two newcomers proved good additions to the company. Kaitlyn Ebert combines speed with balletic lines while tiny Tanya Bello dances huge, attacking phrases aggressively when she didn’t snuggle herself between a player’s arm and his instrument. Nols Simonse, one of the Bay Area’s most was exquisitely nuanced dancers, was as dreamy as a fleeting thought in a gorgeous arrangement of “Black Is The Color (of My True Love’s Hair).” Lovely in his partnering, Dudley Flores made his own contribution to free-spirited dancing.
Still not everything worked equally well. Waddling like ducks with a violin between your knees, or cringing into bellyaches at dissonance was pretty simple-minded humor. Also at times, the choreography had a tiptoeing through the tulips kind of aimlessness about it as if the choreographers could not quite find adequate responses to some musical intricacies.
For the finale dancers and musicians faced each other. The players generously handed over their instruments as the dancers scratched out a brave but god-awful version of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Stars.” They gave a whole new perspective to “StringWreck.”
Rita Felciano, San Francisco Guardian
Bay Area Reporter, March 2007
Choreographic Variations
Janice Garrett is the kind of choreographer dancers love to work with: fast, musical and challenging. Fortunately, most of Garrett's dancers were more than up for the challenge in Garrett's fifth anniversary concert, a great showcase for some of San Francisco's most talented performers. Choreographically, the concert was a little uneven, but Garrett's intentions were clear, and her dancers helped support some of the weaker moments.
The evening started off on a very strong note: Brink (2005) was well choreographed and superbly danced. This was world-class dance, and if Garrett had maintained this kind of momentum, the evening could have been a success on every level. Brink featured an excellent score by Moses Sedler; although the choreography seemed sometimes to mirror the music, it was intelligently crafted and executed. If you're going to ignore every postmodern concept developed in contemporary dance in the last 30 years, this is how you do it. The piece was beautifully lit and had simple, understated costumes. Brink showed Garrett's skill for precise, visceral choreography that was well-developed and exciting.
The next piece was Fast Brass (2005) a wacky quintet set to a score by Fanfare Ciocalia. Black costumes and berets evoked a Euro, beatnik vibe, and Garrett used humor to create a series of vignettes that was part Three Stooges, part Pink Panther and a little Charlie Chaplin. The piece could have used a little more rehearsal, and the choreography needed sharper quality, looking a little muddy. Maybe an excerpt would have been better; less would have been more.
10 Studies on the Vicissitudes of Grief was a world premiere, and signaled a change of direction for Garrett. A minimalist score by Charlemagne Palestine featured a driving, repetitious rhythm. Garrett's choreography created an organic undercurrent that was gestural and somber. The shift in the evening was jarring, the rollercoaster of big movement and easy-listening music was gone.
Perhaps if the material were better framed, it would have felt like a more integrated idea. Pedestrian costuming was matched by muted lighting, which barely shifted. 10 Studies hit a plateau, maintaining a steady, unfolding quality. The most memorable moment was at the end of the piece, when a single dancer collapsed, and the stage suddenly went dark.
Playing chicken
Guest choreographer Charles Moulton is a bit of a legend in the contemporary dance field but seldom appears on local stages, preferring to work abroad. His 2001 piece Chickens is a hysterically funny, surreal combination of queer theory, contemporary performance and commedia dell'arte. The piece follows the story of Sissy (beautifully performed by Nol Simonse), a queer boy in a rural town, and his love for his duck (Jennifer Bishop-Orsulak). The duck tries to fit in at a chicken roost by becoming a chicken, and is later rescued by Sissy. In the meantime, there is a very funny chorus of chickens that strut, preen and represent the idea of assimilating into the mainstream. The recorded short story was written and performed by David Cale, and Moulton's choreography was inventive and well-rehearsed. Garrett should watch out, things are dangerous when a chorus line of wacky chickens steals the show.
The evening culminated in a second world premiere by Garrett, Archimedes' Revenge. Since the piece was abstract, the title's reference was not immediately clear. Archimedes had the potential to be a good bookend for Brink, and began with promise. The bronze-colored costumes were elegant, almost red-carpet ready. Garrett returned to her tried-and-true formula of big movement and driving music by Michael Thomas (performed by the Brodsky Quartet). Something was missing. Where was the exact timing that Garrett demonstrated in Brink? At points, the dancers looked confused and a little tired, for Archimedes was unrelentingly aerobic (though Bishop-Orsulak's stamina and poise were startling; she danced in all five of the evening's pieces). This is going to be a gorgeous piece, look for it next year when the company has had the opportunity to really develop it.
Garrett's fifth anniversary was a great turning point for the company performing a two-week season in San Francisco is a huge accomplishment. The company might want to consider presenting a shorter, less ambitious program, because they have all the necessary components to present a successful season.
San Francisco Examiner, March 16, 2007
Guest choreography helps Garrett dancers look good
This week, Janice Garrett & Dancers are celebrating their fifth home season with two world premieres, two older hits and a chicken dance. Although several memorable moments occur in the modern company’s performances of pieces by Garrett, guest choreographer Charles Moulton’s “Chickens” is what stands out in the show.
Onstage at Fort Mason’s Cowell Theater through Sunday, the show starts with two works created by Garrett in 2005, “Brink” and “Fast Brass.” These compositions are polar opposites in concept and in execution. While in “Brink” Garrett’s choreography showcases the fluidity and easiness that are a trademark of her company, “Fast Brass” is a short, quick-paced dance with comically ethnic elements set to the beats of a Romanian brass band.
The two world premieres, also choreographed by Garrett, are another pair of opposites. Although both works are about the grief the choreographer experienced when her father and sister passed away and are surrounded by a wonderful, ethereal lighting by Christopher G. Maravich, they are fundamentally different in pace and mood.
“10 Studies on the Vicissitudes of Grief” starts off with the six dancers supporting one another and carefully laying one another’s bodies to rest. Everything happens as if in a slow-motion film sequence, but the metaphor soon loses potency when the dancers no longer function as one mourning organism. Another part of the problem lies in the repetitive score by Charlemagne Palestine that weighs down on the audience and makes the choreography bleaker.
“Archimedes’ Revenge” sets a completely different pace to the exciting score by Michael Thomas performed by Brodsky Quartet. The company’s sextet creates a whirlwind of movement, but unlike in the previous work, there is just too much happening onstage, a lot of running, jumps and pirouettes that the company — two men and four women — performs with indefatigable vigor. The choreography is stunning in its pace, but at the end, the overall impression is a blur.
The culmination of the evening is Moulton’s hilarious “Chickens,” created in 1991 and performed by Baryshnikov’s White Oak Project, among others. Unlike in Garrett’s abstract works, “Chickens” tells a story that is set to a narration by a boy who thinks he is a girl, who loves a duck that thinks it’s a chicken. The boy’s voice and rationale have a tinge of Forrest Gump in them and set a comic tone brought to an apex by a rowdy, squawking “corps de poulet” led by a proud rooster-choreographer.
“Chickens” is undoubtedly more theater than dance, but in the company of four conceptually difficult works, it gives the program a spark of exuberance.