{"id":416,"date":"2011-12-19T14:03:41","date_gmt":"2011-12-19T19:03:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/?p=416"},"modified":"2012-01-04T14:15:03","modified_gmt":"2012-01-04T19:15:03","slug":"different-circuses-elizabeth-streb-and-sarah-east-johnson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/2011\/12\/different-circuses-elizabeth-streb-and-sarah-east-johnson\/","title":{"rendered":"Different Circuses: Elizabeth Streb and Sarah East Johnson"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Elizabeth Streb's Action Heroes in Kiss the Air!<\/em>. Photo: Stephanie Berger<\/p><\/div>\n

Elizabeth Streb has the mind of a physicist, the heart of a circus performer, and a movie stuntman\u2019s appetite for risk. Upping the ante while balancing all the factors involved seems to be what sustains her. In the 1980s, when she first started showing her work in small downtown black-box theaters or loft spaces, watching her performers topple\u2014straight as boards, faces down\u2014onto a mic\u2019d mattress could make you wince and gasp. From December 14 through 22, 2011, in the Park Avenue Armory, some of Streb\u2019s dancers\u2014preparing in sight of the audience for her new Kiss the Air!<\/em>\u2014do those falls as a part of their warm-up, cushioning some of the impact on their tightly bent forearms. But later, in the section called \u201cHuman Fountain,\u201d they launch themselves into space from the top tier of a three-storied metal edifice and fly about 20 feet down to land on their bellies (or backs) on a room-sized mattress over a yard thick. With their arms spread. That\u2019s what you call progress.<\/p>\n

No wonder the choreographer calls the members of SLAM! not just \u201caction engineers\u201d but \u201caction heroes.\u201d The exclamation point in the group\u2019s name and that of the new piece is apt. Pow! Bang! Thud! Slam! Such sounds often act as the periods ending an event in this gravity-and-equilibrium show that Streb has constructed in and on the towers, bridges, and girders (by Streb and Hudson Scenic) that stretch down the Armory between two banks of spectators. For the first event, the mobile and highly vocal DJ\/MC, Zaire Baptiste introduces the performers as, one after another, they grab handholds and zoom along zip lines from the north or south tower to splat against suspended mattresses that swing with the impact. Whaaap!!<\/p>\n

Between feats, the performers, wearing red unitards by Andrea Lauer, head for spots of red light on the sidelines, gulp water, and remove or add harnesses and stuff, while Baptiste chivvies them on: \u201cReady dancers? Hold up your arms!\u201d Those pauses are brief.<\/p>\n

Kiss the Air!<\/em> is Streb\u2019s most circus-like performance yet. Three large video screens above either side of the Armory show footage of the performers at work\u2014sometimes in outdoor locations\u2014and later receive in-close, live-feed images of them (Projection design, Erik Pearson; Cinematographer, Alex Rappoport; Live Camera Operators, Sarah Lasley and Tiffany Hopkins). Robert Wierzel\u2019s lighting design makes ample use of color changes and follow spots (or, before the show starts, spotlight beams that just wander around showing off the equipment). David Van Tieghem has provided original music and a sound design that amp up the effort and the impacts; at one point, a march feeds in, plus some Beethovenian heroics.<\/p>\n

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Striking a Balance in "Ascension." Photo: Stephanie Berger<\/p><\/div>\n

The circus, however, is also a competition-less sports event\u2014one in which nine company stalwarts and seven additional performers steady or counterbalance equipment for one another. When Jackie Carlson and John Kasten perform on single large rings, colleagues haul on ropes attached to the pair\u2019s \u201cjerk vests\u201d to make them swing through the air. In \u201cAscension,\u201d when a long ladder anchored to the middle tower of a bridge structure rotates like a propeller, there\u2019s always one person at the center of the bridge to control the balance as people climb one side and shift position as that side passes the top and starts down.<\/p>\n

Act follows act in this bright, immaculate industrial playground. Equipment called \u201cAir Rams\u201d look like large hinges or accelerator pedals. A performer stepping on one is instantly catapulted up and forward by 30 pounds per square inch of pressure from tanks of air. The final section, \u201cKiss the Water,\u201d involves Leonardo Giron Torres and Daniel Rysak on bungee cords above a shallow pool of water, springing, inverting in the air, flying outward (\u201cI\u2019m Superman!\u201d \u201cI\u2019m Tinker Bell!\u201d), and kicking the water, while others do belly flops and back flips (spectators in the front rows have been given rain ponchos). There\u2019s even a non-human act in which red globes the size and heft of bowling balls are released to fall into clear plastic boxes (we hear the shatter of glass and, in the video projections, see brief flame-ups).<\/p>\n

Streb\u2019s imaginative ideas, the performers\u2019 tremendous physical skills, and the potential danger that lurks in Kiss the Air!<\/em> thrill the audience, although the very scale of the piece has a distancing effect despite all efforts to create an informal atmosphere. I wanted to be helped to know the performers better and be able to cheer each individual silently, the way you can in performances at Streb\u2019s own SLAM in Brooklyn (There goes Fabio Tavares Silva (Associate Artistic Director); wow! Brava, Cassandra Joseph! You aced it, Giron Torres!, Carlson, Kasten, Rysak\u2014terrific! Sarah Callan, Felix Hess, Samantha Jakus, yes!)<\/p>\n

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Kissing the Water: Leonardo Giron Torres and Daniel Rysak. Photo: Stephanie Berger<\/p><\/div>\n

For me \u201cHuman Fountain\u201d is the high point of the entertainment and the most resonant event of the evening. The three-tiered structure at the south end of the Armory is strung with lights. Performers climb onto its corridors mostly via the ladders at either end. Streb builds the excitement and degree of difficulty gradually. Basically the act is the same: step to the edge of the tier, dive out into the air, hit the mattress, and scramble out of the way of other fallers. Sometimes people twist in the air. It doesn\u2019t take long to realize that the dancers in one tier can\u2019t see those on other tiers when they launch\u2014only after they\u2019re airborne.<\/p>\n

Suddenly timing equates survival. From higher and higher and in more rapid succession they fall. When you see Tavares Silva and Joseph poised at the top, you hold your breath; and it seems to take them forever to hit the ground. Then come diagonal dives that cross in the air, and, finally, the terrifying climax. Two on the top floor, three in the middle, four on the bottom all jump at once and land prone, arms spread, in a perfect formation, equally spaced out on the mattress. Disturbing memories of 9\/11 mix with iconographic images of angels and here-and-now visions of champions. You could cry with admiration and relief.<\/p>\n

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LAVA in Sarah East Johnson's Atlas<\/em>. Photo: Angela Jimenez<\/p><\/div>\n

LAVA\u2019s Atlas<\/em> by the company\u2019s founder-director, Sarah East Johnson, reminds me a little of some of Streb\u2019s early pieces, but that\u2019s probably because of the aerial work and the emphasis on strength and timing. The two women\u2019s aesthetic is very different, and Atlas<\/em>, performed in the intimate space of Dixon Place December 1 through 11, explores navigational principles, topography, and natural phenomena with oddball charm and wit. It begins with a film of bare feet walking carefully across rocky terrain and sand to reach the sea, the camera advancing and backing away as the waves roll in and out. The walker is clearly the one holding the camera, not sure she wants to get too wet.<\/p>\n

LAVA is a confederacy of strong women, and Atlas<\/em> employs them in a string of brief acts, beginning with some neatly organized, rough-edged, modestly acrobatic dancing for Calia Marshall, Sarah Day Hirshan, Rose Calucchia, and Molly Chanoff that entails fingers pointing in different directions, as if to alert us to perspectives we may gain. For this number, the women wear white sleeveless tops and knee-length white pants with earth tones at the hem (costumes by Jocelyn Davis). Alison May\u2019s lighting on the white floor and wall makes the modest space luminous.<\/p>\n

Often, several things occur at once to spark an image. Three of the women roll slowly back and forth across the floor, while Allison Schnur climbs a fat white rope at the back and hangs from a loosely strung horizontal one by her hands or feet, or uses it as a hammock. At the same time, Mamie Minch sings words like, \u201cYou are the sea. . .\u201d and \u201cI built this ship; it listens to me.\u201d It\u2019s not surprising to hear what sounds like a foghorn. While Marshall and Hirshan, now wearing shimmery gold outfits, perform a gentle acrobatic duet on a trapeze, they sing to each other\u2014at first slowly. The tune? Elton John\u2019s \u201cRocket Man.\u201d Meanwhile, beneath them, travelers pass: Lollo Romanski on roller skates, Diana Y Greiner on a scooter, Chanoff on a bike. As the song picks up speed, the voyagers double up: two on the bike, two on the scooter, Johnson hitching a ride on Romanski. Later in Atlas<\/em>, while Johnson and Chanoff, do some expert tricky stuff together on a trapeze very close to the first row, they sing Roly Salley\u2019s \u201cKilling the Blues\u201d in a cappella harmony.<\/p>\n

This is a piece in which one feat consists of Johnson running in circles around the space, eyes focused straight ahead, and repeatedly managing to change her path to jump over a silver X in the center of the floor without ever looking down.<\/p>\n

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Molly Chanoff rides the rails. Photo: Angela Jimenez<\/p><\/div>\n

Along with sprucely-managed stunts like pyramids and vaults and catches involving a low trampoline, there are some beautiful sequences: Chanoff stands calmly on Johnson, Colucchia, and Romanski, while they roll smoothly over one another, and Minch, accompanying herself on an electric guitar, sings \u201cThe longest train I ever did see. . . .\u201d There are also some telling jokes about spatial orientation and mass in relation to effort. In one brief scene, Schnur turns the real wall into her floor, using Romanski\u2019s bent-over back as a support. In another, Romanski \u201crides\u201d a stationary bike, pedaling away while Greiner and Schnur shove the thing across the stage. Later, she makes the trip again; this time Marshall straddles her shoulders and Hirshan perches on the handlebars. Now the two \u201cpushers\u201d have a very hard time moving the bike. Talk about an uphill journey.<\/p>\n

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How not to take a road trip. Photo: Angela Jimenez<\/p><\/div>\n

Atlas<\/em>‘s lovely finale takes place amid about 14 glowing little lamps that are let down on slim cords to hang amid the performers, who run and dance and lift one another and walk on their hands. When the lights are set swinging, the women have to dodge and duck. In the end, they\u2019re all lying on their backs watching the tiny glowing objects move above them.<\/p>\n

\u201cA sweet show,\u201d said a friend, by no means minimizing the rigor of the work. I\u2019d second that.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Elizabeth Streb has the mind of a physicist, the heart of a circus performer, and a movie stuntman\u2019s appetite for risk. Upping the ante while balancing all the factors involved seems to be what sustains her. In the 1980s, when she first started showing her work in small downtown black-box theaters or loft spaces, watching […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":429,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[229],"tags":[230,233,232,231],"class_list":{"0":"post-416","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-dance-acrobatics","8":"tag-elizabeth-streb","9":"tag-lava","10":"tag-sarah-east-johnson","11":"tag-slam","12":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/416","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=416"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/416\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/429"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=416"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=416"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=416"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}