{"id":6607,"date":"2019-10-29T18:35:28","date_gmt":"2019-10-29T22:35:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/?p=6607"},"modified":"2019-10-29T21:23:08","modified_gmt":"2019-10-30T01:23:08","slug":"noh-transformations","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/2019\/10\/noh-transformations\/","title":{"rendered":"Noh Transformations"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Karole Armitage’s You Took A Part of me. <\/em> Sierra French (L) and Megumi Eda. Photo: Julie Lemberger<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Anyone who has seen a Japanese Noh play will not forget it easily. The poetic speech, the masked characters and their slow, ceremonious behavior, the tiny details that expose a world. Karole Armitage has studied and thought about the form for many years, perhaps while performing in Merce Cunningham\u2019s company or being the resident choreographer for the Ballet de Lorraine (among many other stints). Her fascinating You Took A Part of Me <\/em>for Armitage Gone! Dance alludes to and converses with, a 15th<\/sup>-century \u201cghost play:\u201d Nonomiya.<\/em> Like a number of other Noh plays, it refers to episodes in Lady Murasaki\u2019s 11th<\/sup>-century novel, The Tale of Genji\u2014<\/em>in particular, the love affair between Genji, a son of the Emperor, and the beautiful Lady Rokujo, whom he met at the Nonomiya Shrine. And the jealousy of Genji\u2019s wife, Lady Aoi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In New York Live Arts\u2019 program for You Took A Part of Me<\/em>, which premiered last April at Japan Society,\nthe characters are listed like this: The Ghost (I), Her Double (Me), Her Lover,\nand Koken. The segments they populate are Introduction, Memory Duet, Abandonment,\nHijacked Mind, Battle with Self, Attachments, Liberation, and Conclusion. All\nthis in an hour.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The action takes place on a large, raised platform designed by Clifton Taylor; the performers must walk into view and climb a few steps in order to make their entrances. Above it hangs a frame of the same size. A stool sits on a small extension at one side. This area shows something never seen by spectators of Noh drama: the \u201cmirror room\u201d where preparations occur. It is where Alonso Guzman as the koken<\/em> (a sort of prop man usually ignored by Noh performers) helps Megumi Eda (The Ghost) roll her long, shaggy black wig into a bun and anchor it with two chopsticks; he holds up a mirror for her to see the effect. We never see Guzman\u2019s entire face: the top of a loose-fitting, black turtle-neck that reached to just below his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Megumi Eda and Sierra French joined together by their hair in Karole Armitage’s You Took A Part of Me<\/em>. Photo: Julie Lemberger<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

As the piece begins, Eda and Sierra French (Her Double), identically clad in white jackets and loose white pants, wear those wigs (created by Danilo), which are connected to each other by long, thick bunches of hair. Therefore the two move carefully, mostly in unison, the physical bond hinting at their spiritual relationship to each other\u2014both Eda\u2019s other self and her rival for the love of the male performer (Cristian Laverde-Koenig). Gradually, they lean away from each other, so that the shared locks of hair begin to pull apart. Reiko Yamada\u2019s music has begun. It is sparse, often sudden; flute calls, murmuring voices, distant bells are just some of the haunting acoustic and electronic sounds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Cristian Laverde-Koenig and Megumi Eda in Karole Armitage’s You Took A Part of Me. <\/em>
Photo: Steven Pisano<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Eda, who has worked with Armitage for years, is an extraordinary performer\u2014thoughtful, supple. She makes every smooth complication of her body and limbs look like the flow of ideas (the press material mentions that the \u201csinuous movement is based on the curvilinear paths of classical Japanese calligraphy.\u201d)  Laverde-Koenig, wearing black pants and a blue-gray top, enters the stage as if she has summoned him from the darkness of her memories. He reaches just above her head without touching it, as if it\u2019s he who is reanimating her; he seems to sniff her before lifting her high. Pauses stud their separations and comings together. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then, in a startling moment, the koken<\/em> grasps each one\u2019s clothing in turn and in split seconds undresses one, then the other.  Peter Speliopoulos\u2019s costumes now consist only of black bands\u2014one for Laverde-Koenig, two for Eda\u2014held together by invisible flesh-colored netting. Thus attired, they twine slowly together in complex ways, as if to explore and test the erotic knots that arise. Throughout the duet, their faces remain immobile enough to suggest masks, although the intensity of their gaze never slackens. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Megumi Eda supine, while Cristian Laverde Koenig holds Sierra French in Karole Armitrage’s You Took a Part of Me<\/em>. Photo: Julie Lemberger<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

When Laverde-Koenig leaves, Eda collapses and crashes resoundingly to the floor, yet it\u2019s the smaller gestures that express what this memory of love and its abandonment have awakened: her mouth opens in a silent cry, she clasps her breasts, she bites one hand. The Koken re-garbs the Lover for another duet, this one with French. You can assume that their coming together is being recalled by Eda, lying immobile on the floor (this is the section titled \u201cHijacked Mind\u201d). Laverde-Koenig\u2019s gestures seem almost to be animating or guiding his partner without always touching her; yet their dancing also has the air of a formal conversation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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(L to R): Sierra French, Megumi Eda, and Cristian Laverde-Koenig in Karole Armitage’s You Took A Part of Me. <\/em>Photo: Julieta Cervantes<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

When these women have been stripped of outer clothing again,\nhe leaves them to bicker. The music amplifies the impression that these\ninextricably paired women\u2014the rememberer and the remembered or repressed part\nof her\u2014are spitting at each other. Yet they often move as mirror images. When\nLaverde-Koenig returns, the three intertwine in increasingly knotted positions,\nmostly on the floor, with one of the participants occasionally assuming brief\npower. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is difficult to express the\nintensity of the action in words: its eroticism, its slowness, its formality,\nthe repressed rage that permeates it. The blackouts in Taylor\u2019s lighting, the\nsudden contrasts in Yamada\u2019s music, plus the deliberate, unhurried entrances\nand exits build You Took A Part of Me<\/em>\u2019s\ndream-like atmosphere. The fact that the title capitalizes the letter \u201ca\u201d\nsuggests that what we\u2019ve been watching is one woman\u2019s internal struggle made\nmanifest on the stage, and the source of it: the man who incited that cleavage\nof self. As a ghost, she lingers between life and eternal rest, haunting her\nmemories.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the end, she is liberated\u2014free to leap away from the\nfloor, free of her recollections.  She\npulls the sticks out of her hair and lets it fall. She backs away from us. Will\nher spirit now be at rest?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Anyone who has seen a Japanese Noh play will not forget it easily. The poetic speech, the masked characters and their slow, ceremonious behavior, the tiny details that expose a world. Karole Armitage has studied and thought about the form for many years, perhaps while performing in Merce Cunningham\u2019s company or being the resident choreographer […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":6608,"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":[109,199],"tags":[3205,3204,620,3203,618,619,3202,3201,3206],"class_list":{"0":"post-6607","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-contemporary-dance","8":"category-postmodern-views","9":"tag-alonzo-guzman","10":"tag-clifton-taylor","11":"tag-cristian-laverde-konig","12":"tag-danilo","13":"tag-karole-armitage","14":"tag-megumi-edo","15":"tag-peter-speliopoulos","16":"tag-reiko-yamada","17":"tag-sierra-french","18":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6607","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=6607"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6607\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6620,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6607\/revisions\/6620"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6608"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6607"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6607"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/dancebeat\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6607"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}