Tami Stronach premieres "Me and Not Me"

It's possible to find yourself completely lost in a work shaped by Tami Stronach. Lost and wondering if you should have brought along some bright red yarn to unspool as you walked so that, later, you could retrace your steps.

Tami Stonach (l) and Lindsey Dietz Marchant and that crazy little bike in Me and Not Me

A kind of poetic disorientation can work to the choreographer's benefit, but not always. When her drive and facility with movement, her fascination with relationships between dancers, run on long, it looks as if she's a little lost, too. But not in Me and Not Me, that brash duet between the choreographer and Lindsey Dietz Marchant, both articulate, masterful performers. Stronach gave this artful piece its world premiere last night at Dance New Amsterdam, along with a solo from repertory (Mother Tongue, with Dietz Marchant dancing like Isadora-gone-postmodern) and a work in progress (Closer, a more lighthearted quartet toying with DNA's space and our focus of attention). If you enjoy dance that treats human nature in its complexity from the inside out, Stronach's evening at DNA could be a wise choice for your weekend.

The title, Me and Not Me, hints that the two characters might be two sides of the same woman, as easily as they could be a literal Self and Other. It also suggests the rejection of something inside a person that she does not want to see and accept. The piece pits a fairly well-rooted (and ferociously energetic) Stronach against the irrational vision of Dietz-Marchant, a full-grown woman making her wobbly and crash-prone way, 'round and 'round, on a small child's bike, strewing aromatic yellow flowers (that made me sneezy) and, when she is not astride the bike, clinging to, pawing at and struggling with the choreographer. (I made a note: "So, Tami, who was the impossibly difficult person in your life?") The women handle each other with stubbornness, resistance and deep need. Jane Shaw contributes a resonant sound design--a mixtape of gorgeous Czech folk and pop--now, I'll need to seek out more music by Karina Denike--interspersed with the grating, repetitious streaming of anxiety and OCD. Go-to lighting guy Joe Levasseur, once again, works his painterly magic against the women's skin.

Now through Saturday evening, 7:30pm

Information and tickets

Dance New Amsterdam
280 Broadway (entrance on Chambers Street), Manhattan
(map/directions)

Zuštiak's "The Painted Bird: Amidst"

Here's the link to my Dance Magazine review of The Painted Bird: Amidst by Pavel Zuštiak+Palissimo Company at Baryshnikov Arts Center.

Looking at "Madness," again

It's that nutty Danspace Project again, presenting PLATFORM 2011: Body Madness, Part 1 - Absurdity & Wit, curated by Judy Hussie-Taylor, this time with New York's Ursula Eagly and Minneapolis's Chris Schlichting sharing a show. Okay, now that's out of the way.

I really think you should encounter the Eagly team's Group Dynamics and Visual Sensitivity without a lot of preparation. So I'm only going to say that I loved it for the way it flips and shuffles two-dimensionality and three-dimensionality. Its guided imagery approach is a presentational, storytelling idea that works, perhaps to a scary degree, and we're invited to join the artists in making it work. It can be an amazing experience. (Created by Eagly in collaboration with Lindsey Dietz Marchant, Jesse Harold, Abby Harris Holmes and Jeremy Holmes).

In the solo Public Hair, Schlichting's immediate advantage is that he looks and moves like the kind of guy whose face might end up on the front page of a tabloid newspaper for all the wrong reasons. Bursting through the front door, he looms in the silent space, a figure with no discernible standout features, his arms hanging listlessly at his sides, his buttoned-down shirt and pullover sweater and plain dark slacks containing him but saying nothing at all about him.

And yet, as you watch Schlichting trace the air around his lips--as if he's applying Chapstick or even lipstick--he gives you the creeps. The circling gesture grows larger, jerkier, taking in the entire head. Just as it becomes quite violent in force, he retracts his energy and simply drifts away to other unusually odd and suspicious postures and gestures.

Schlichting is a maker of images bent and broken, an interesting crafter of tiny and big things. He relates to the church's space quite well, in unexpected ways, as well as ways that make you want to get out the cleaning supplies and scrub it down.

But the weirdest thing for me was leaving St. Mark's and having a stranger approach me at the door.

"Is the early show over?" he asked.

"Well, yes, the show's over," I replied.

"What was it about?"

A combination of my exhaustion from an unexpectedly demanding day and the effects of Eagly's piece had left me desperately sleepy and less than articulate. And besides, how was I even to begin explaining "PLATFORM 2011: Body Madness, Part 1 - Absurdity & Wit, curated by Judy Hussie-Taylor, this time with New York's Ursula Eagly and Minneapolis's Chris Schlichting sharing a show" to some guy lurking outside the door?

(Earlier in the day, I had struggled to explain "PLATFORM 2011: Body Madness, Part 1 - Absurdity & Wit, curated by Judy Hussie-Taylor, this time with New York's Ursula Eagly and Minneapolis's Chris Schlichting sharing a show" to my sister-in-law. But don't worry: My sister-in-law's a smart cookie, and that eventually worked out well.)

I looked at this guy and mumbled something vague, and that seemed to be enough. But then he asked me:

"Would it be appropriate for a small child?"

I'm ashamed to say that, just to get away from him, I quickly told him yes.

In truth, I couldn't figure out if this show would be appropriate for a small child. Most likely not, but that might depend on the child and, really, how small are we talking?

It was all way too much for me.

Racing away from him, I thought about it: Geeze, I'm not even sure this show was appropriate for me, let alone a small child. (I'm not kidding: I woke up from a quite frightening dream in the middle of the night....)

Later, I wondered if this guy wasn't part of the show...

If you happen to encounter him outside St. Mark's, do let me know.

Ursula Eagly and Chris Schlichting: A Shared Evening continues tonight and tomorrow at 8pm. For information and ticketing, click here.

Danspace Project
St. Mark's Church
Second Avenue and Tenth Street, Manhattan
(directions)

Solo in Queens

Yesterday, I attended Dance in Queens 2010: Solo Flight--a showing of works-in-progress developed at TOPAZ ARTS in partnership with the Queens Museum of Art. Hosted and introduced by TA's co-director Paz Tanjuaquio, the program featured solos choreographed by Dina-Verley Sabb-Mills, Ursula Eagly (danced by marvelous Lindsey Dietz Marchant) and Daniel Charon.

I won't review these unfinished pieces. (Charon considers his dreamy This Much I Do Remember "fairly finished, because in my life, I like to move on to other things.") But I will say that the entire event, including the Q&A, was gracious and enjoyable.  And I do want to introduce you to an interesting artist who was new to me. 

Dina-Verley Sabb-Mills, from Philadelphia, is an MFA graduate of Temple University. Her piece--A (happy) Life, set to music by Corrine Bailey Rae, Kanye West and Miles Davis--calls to mind something of the stylish stage presence, agility and vigor of Camille A. Brown but with an insightful psychological honesty and vulnerability that's all her own. Sabb-Mills demonstrates the near-impossible juggling act of coping with trauma while trying to live one's public life, putting on the public face day after day. Made after a period of grief, demanding change and disconnection from her dancing, this solo is really one hell of a way to come back. It represents a personal turning point, for sure, but if it also hints at the strengths she will bring out in the future, then keep watch. Here's her website and schedule of upcoming gigs.