{"id":6210,"date":"2019-02-26T19:09:47","date_gmt":"2019-02-27T00:09:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/?p=6210"},"modified":"2019-03-09T13:58:36","modified_gmt":"2019-03-09T18:58:36","slug":"close-up-worlds","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/2019\/02\/close-up-worlds\/","title":{"rendered":"Close-Up Worlds"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Bill Young\/Colleen Thomas & Co. February 22 & 23<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
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Nadia Halim atop Sadi Mosco in Colleen Thomas’s Diane. Still. <\/em>Photo: Julia Discenza<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m sitting in Bill Young and Colleen Thomas\u2019s loft waiting for the rest of the audience to straggle in, greet friends, maybe pick up something to drink, and settle down for the program of dance in LIT No. 19 (Loft into Theater).  Memories assail me, specifically those filed away under  \u201cgood old days in NYC,\u201d when choreographers secured low-rent lofts and\u2014legally or sneakily\u2014 moved in and turned them into part-time performance sites. (During the earliest of those days, you could also enter an Italian restaurant in Greenwich Village that hadn\u2019t yet secured a liquor license, ask for a \u201cspecial coke,\u201d and be brought a glass of red wine.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve taken off my coat, turned off my cell phone, and chatted with the people on either side of me (one of whom I haven\u2019t seen in quite a while), who are also talking to each other across<\/em> me. To get there, we\u2019ve all walked along a considerably gentrified Grand Street, most of its shops closed at this hour; noted the discreet \u201cdo not buzz, door open\u201d type of sign at #100; climbed a long staircase under a peeling ceiling; checked in at a small table; and waited in the crowd massing on the steps for Young to open the door and let us in. I venture a small, contented, only-in-New-York sigh.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Lindsey Jones and Burr Johnson in Bill Young’s Team II. <\/em>Photo: Julia Discenza<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Anyone unfamiliar with the expert performers involved has\nonly to consult the program to learn how many well-known choreographers they\u2019ve\nworked with. Two of the works are by Thomas; Young choreographed four of them.\nFour are duets, one is a solo, and one a trio. The intimate setting also enables\nus to see these from two perspectives. The wall to our right is mirrored; a\ntrio can become a sextet, a duet a foursome. The lighting that Joe Levasseur\nhas designed with remarkably few instruments alters the space in wonderfully\nsensitive ways. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The wood floor \u2014golden brown, unmarred, and glowing\u2014plays a\nstarring role. It all but invites  a\ndancer to rest on it. Or fall to it, roll across it, and spring back up and\ninto the arms of a colleague in one seamless maneuver. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Rochelle Jamila Wilbun in Colleen Thomas’s Diane. Still<\/em>. Photo: Julia Discenza


<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Thomas, who is on the faculty of Barnard College\u2019s Dance Department, may have cast some of her former students in Diane. Still<\/em>, which she dedicates to \u201cyou who made me dance even when I couldn\u2019t walk.\u201d  Nadia Halim,  Sadi Mosko, and Rochelle Jamila Wilbun perform this quiet trio while Jo Morris accompanies them intermittently on electrified guitar (her own music and that of the Bee Gees). There are degrees of speech in the piece. Wilbun speaks of chakras and of a crystal held to the eye (I hear the words but don\u2019t quite process them). Halim speaks of her Chinese family, mostly in words we\u2019re not meant to hear. Mosko only briefly mouths the words of the song to which we\u2019re listening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I used the word \u201cquiet,\u201d but Thomas\u2019s choreography (on which the dancers collaborated) isn\u2019t docile; it\u2019s full of big, flung steps and moments of suspension before a noiseless fall. It\u2019s also structurally satisfying\u2014that is, movements repeat in new configurations, whether performed in unison by all three women or just two. This kind of repetition can make you feel as if you the watcher are considering the dance from different viewpoints. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Peter Chamberlin in Colleen Young’s Damsel<\/em>. Photo: Julia Discenza<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

rI first saw Damsel <\/em>in 2011. Thomas has revived the solo for Peter Chamberlin, and he performs it excellently to the \u00be strains of \u201cQue Sera Sera\u201d (whatever will be will be). Sung in English and often submerged in chaotic muttering, muted cacophony, and vibrating static, it begins with a question: \u201cWhen I was just a little girl, I asked my mother, \u201cwhat will I be?\u201d Chamberlin begins by tiptoeing along an unseen snaking path. Attached to one side of his shirt is a pink fabric flower too big to be a boutonniere. I feel as if he\u2019s making his way through a gale of some kind. The word \u201cdamsel,\u201d seldom heard these days, hints at ladylike purity and vulnerability. Levasseur\u2019s lighting projects a lattice onto one side of the floor, and, in a quiet moment, Chamberlin lies down and walks two fingers across it. Later he sucks his thumb unobtrusively as he dances. In the end, he is supine by the lattice, and, lying on his chest is a big bunch of white cord that he has picked up; his feet are working at making tiny steps, but, prostrate as he is, he never travels from his spot. It\u2019s curious to watch something this enigmatic happening so close to you that you never try to probe its collaged realities. Only afterward do I think about a possible backward voyage to the womb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Young\u2019s four duets all create images of intimacy that are sensitive even when contentious. In AngelCrash<\/em>, set to a score by Mio Morales, Oluwadamilare Ayorinde and Jamie Scott dance the same steps separately and then, holding hands, together. Rumbling sounds and harsh ones, plus a high, muffled voice calling out, create an unstable environment. Dancing not only with their mirrored images and their shadows thrown on another wall, the two also embrace tightly\u2014heads on each other\u2019s shoulders\u2014and, taking small steps, turn without travelling, affixed to the spot on which they stand. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Their lifts are remarkable, not like the ones we\u2019re familiar\nwith. You\u2019d never expect that one body could balance on another in such ways. I\nfind myself thinking of catapults\u2014the way Scott, pulling against Ayorinde\u2019s\nclasped one hand, can suddenly be sprung onto her partner and cling there as if\ntheir bodies are magnetically attracted. Scott can, briefly, lift Ayorinde off\nthe ground too. In the end, though, he is alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Burr Johnson entrapped by Lindsey Jones in Bill Young’s Team II<\/em>. Photo: Julia Discenza<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Team II <\/em>is more competitive. Lindsey Jones moves Burr Johnson where she wants him to be by placing both hands on his bald head and gently turning him before she sets him leaping; she also takes hold of a few hairs on his short beard and gives them quick tug. The two are good at collaborating, and I love the attentiveness with which they regard each other. Separated by a couple of feet and leaning together, they manage, thus slanted, to walk along together.  They also have a small movement debate about which knee to lift high when. Some of the things they embark on are extremely daring.  She falls forward as straight as a toppling tree; he, behind her, catches her in the nick of time.  They are equal in strength however; she lifts him as if he were a baby; then he drags her along; then she lifts him again. They leave the room, as you might expect, together. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Oluwadamare and Darrin Wright counterbalanced in Bill Young’s Doubles. <\/em>Photo: Julia Discenza<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Strings of tiny blue light bulbs drape the windows outside the lofts, and Morales\u2019s score includes sounds of clapping and a guitar with Spanish inflections when Darrin Wright and Ayorinde perform Young\u2019s Doubles<\/em>. They, more evenly matched than Jones and Johnson, are, if anything, more athletic. These two men can cover ground in amiable unison, but one of them can be levered up to stand on the other\u2019s lifted thigh, and in a startling move, one guy (I forget which) lifts the other, charges at the mirror, and make his partner\u2019s feet run up it, before swinging him into something else. They\u2019re not all muscle though; one briefly lays his head in the other\u2019s lap. And they walk out together, as if planning to continue their games in another room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wright transforms himself into a stagehand in preparation for Off<\/em> (another remade work that I first saw in 2011 with a different cast). He blocks three of the windows by fitting white panels into them. In a few seconds, we\u2019ll understand why. This is the most intimate and sensual of the four duets. Lauren Ferguson, who\u2019s been standing quietly at one side, removes her overcoat and drops it on the floor. Gary Champi is waiting for her. So is Levasseur, holding a spotlight and prepared to follow the couple wherever they go. So is Young, who trains a small movie camera on the scene. We are, then, to be voyeurs, able to see Ferguson and Champi from several perspectives: the two, their mirrored images, and closeups of them projected from the camera onto the window panels.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Gary Champi and Lauren Ferguson in Bill Young’s Off<\/em>. Photo: Julia Discenza<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

At first, we tend to focus on a kiss, or a near kiss. The\ntwo dancers slowly, smoothly twist together and unwind, change levels, change\ndirections, all the while each keeping his\/her lips only an inch or two away\nfrom the other\u2019s. (Imagine please, how difficult this may be to do.) All is not\ngentle, however. After a few minutes, Champi takes his shirt off and tosses it\naside.  Ferguson bites his back, and he\nyells \u201cOw!\u201d We hear that protest a couple more times. Later they laugh\nsilently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once they\u2019re done with kissing, they find more complicated,\nmore awkward, but evidently fulfilling ways of uniting. Picture this: He walks\nslowly on wide-apart knees, his body erect, while she stands on his heels (!),\nboth of them spreading their arms like wings. As they progress away from us\ntoward the camera, they resemble an unknown species of beast with unusual\nmating habits. Remember too that we\u2019re quite close to the dancers and that we\nsee what the camera sees\u2014those heads in their close dance and then a more\ncurious joining of their bodies. Off <\/em>is\n(how can I describe it?) erotic yet not erotic. Engrossing for sure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then the evening\u2019s over. Or not. The woman to my left gives\na satisfied sigh and conveys her enjoyment to me.  I nod. But the spectators aren\u2019t in a hurry\nto leave and have been informed that that\u2019s okay. They chat, drink, slowly get\ntheir coats on. When I hit the sidewalk, only a couple of other people have\nemerged into the chilly night. We speak briefly and go our separate ways. Only\nin New York. . . .<\/p>\n\n\n\n


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<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Bill Young\/Colleen Thomas & Co. February 22 & 23 I\u2019m sitting in Bill Young and Colleen Thomas\u2019s loft waiting for the rest of the audience to straggle in, greet friends, maybe pick up something to drink, and settle down for the program of dance in LIT No. 19 (Loft into Theater).  Memories assail me, specifically […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":6213,"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":[1],"tags":[780,321,781,783,617,3137,768,1247,3134,2440,3133,3136,3135],"class_list":{"0":"post-6210","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-uncategorized","8":"tag-bill-young","9":"tag-burr-johnson","10":"tag-colleen-thomas","11":"tag-darrin-wright","12":"tag-jamie-scott","13":"tag-jo-morris","14":"tag-joe-levasseur","15":"tag-lindsey-jones","16":"tag-nadia-halim","17":"tag-oluwadamilare-ayorinde","18":"tag-peter-chamberlin","19":"tag-rochelle-jamila-wilbin","20":"tag-sadie-mosko","21":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6210","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=6210"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6210\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6242,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6210\/revisions\/6242"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6213"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6210"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6210"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6210"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}