Cloud Gate Dance Theatre of Taiwan in Review, Next Wave Art, and Between the Lines

Bouncing Off Clouds…

On Tuesday night, BAM opened its 25th Next Wave Festival (an event that has been totally snubbed by The New York Times–unless I missed something) to a modest audience in the Howard Gilman Opera House with Cloud Gate Dance Theatre of Taiwan’s Wild Cursive. If there is any message to be drawn from the selection, it is that BAM’s role as a presenter of international arts is as strong as ever, even though this reality does cause friction among some New York artists who may see every production of foreign artists as a missed chance to promote the thousands of those who struggle to create work in New York. But to balance out the season opening, Wednesday night, home town favorite, Kronos Quartet, took over BAM’s Harvey Theater, presenting collaborations with Fins Kimmo Pohjonen and Samuli Kosminen, and local theater artists and composer, Erik Sanko. [We will only review Wild Cursive.]

Wild Cursive is the final part of a trilogy made by choreographer Lin Hwai-min, that is based on the art of Chinese calligraphy. “Wild cursive” is a two thousand year-old practice of character writing that frees the artist from the strict formalism of traditional Chinese calligraphy, resulting in images that appear very much to have inspired abstract expressionism, and likely requires evoking the same unbridled, earnest impulse. You can understand, from watching the movement–mostly fluid, martial-artsy phrases either in slow-motion or at extreme whipping speeds, all of which terminated in some kind of striking pose–that Lin Hwai-min was really trying to tap into the shapes and feel of the calligraphic art.

And there was a lot to appreciate about the performance overall: the dancers are all impeccably gifted athletes and some of them artists capable of incredible nuance; when three or more dancers moved in distinct motion, the stage became activated with a creepy, organic churning that was dizzying; the sets, designed by Hwai-min and lit deftly by Chang Tsan-tao, were six or seven huge scrolls of rice paper that would slowly descend into the stage space, each of them saturated with fresh ink that would creep downward through the performance (although, from where I was sitting, this effect was essentially negligible); the work seemed also to exist within an elegant, reserved beauty, maybe that borders on clich from an American point of view. After all, how are we to regard a cartwheel as a moment of choreographic inspiration? I could imagine a context in which this would work, thrill or make us laugh, in the hands of a contemporary American choreographer with a distinctly downtown feel. But the cartwheeling and karate kicking is difficult for us to regard as original choreographic intelligence, not only because of its athleticism, but because it is too much part of another thing–a martial art.

There were some other drawbacks too. The hypnotic, roiling motion settled into tedium a stayed there for most of the performance, that is, the kinds of variety that an American audience might look for to keep one’s attention engaged was not evident. If the piece were straight up Butoh, I could understand. But it’s not; it’s modern dance in a very free-style, expressionistic sense. What became most distracting, however, was the slow-growing realization that the dancers never touch each other. There was not one point of contact the entire night. None. I began to puzzle over this during the last half of the piece when the intentional disconnection between the dancers became suffocating. Which made me realize that Wild Cursive was essentially a stage full of soloists. Which then led me to regard them more as statues–that are staid, singular and do not touch anything else–which then made me realize that the main goal of Hwai-min’s dance is to inspire a narrow kind of aesthetic appreciation. A stop and gaze interaction; tilt your head to the side and quietly say to yourself, “Wow.” But I couldn’t help feel that what I want from performance is something more than appreciation. I want to be moved, I guess; not just pleased. And the final moment provided that; a gorgeous solo, where a female dance, in squat position, hovered just inches above the floor, her body, shifting like a cloud, entranced, pulled me in; finally, moved me.

But there is more than meets the eye to this Next Wave Festival. A hopeful change and a surprising addition seem to celebrate the spirit of creativity and cultivation that many associate with BAM’s cultural role.

Next Wave Art…

First, when you visit BAM this fall, be sure to check out two important artworks that are part of BAM’s first ever “Next Wave Art” exhibition. Formerly under the title Next Next Art, BAM has made a bold move here to include the visual arts as an equal partner in the Next Wave enterprise. And to put its money where its mouth is, they have promoted David Harper (a Pratt graduate who has also shared a working relationship with the New Museum’s Dan Cameron) from BAMart Coordinator (a position once held by Naomi Beckwith, now an Assistant Curator at the Studio Museum of Harlem) to be BAM’s first ever full-time, on-site art curator.

The stand out of the inaugural edition is Jean Shin’s “Wave”, a glossy, pop-inspired homage to the festival built out of melted and sculpted vinyl records. The work–which was commissioned by BAM (a first)–is hard to miss, and its slick, candied surface does not belie its deeper possible impacts as an ode to the transitoriness of media and the inevitable waves of technology that render each successive generation of recordable media obsolete. Also notable (and notorious) is one of Robert Wilson’s VOOM portraits, this one, of Mikhail Baryshnikov standing semi-nude and still against a post, posed like Saint Sebastian. Controversially, Baryshnikov’s face is held in a permamnent grimmace; deftly un-saint-like, and sure to cause a stir. But the sheer eeriness of this portrait is that Baryshnikov is standing so still, that the only way to recognize that it is a moving image (on such an undetectable loop that it literally has the effect of being a living image) is when he swallows and his neck contracts like a calf-muscle. Go see it! Tonight is the opening from 6pm-8pm.

Between the Lines…

Then, next week will see the launch of “Between the Lines,” a literary and film series that will showcase emerging talents that might not otherwise find a large enough audience to be presented in BAM’s cinemas or as part of BAM’s hugely successful spring book series, “Eat, Drink, and Be Literary.” The opening night, Wednesday, will feature Meehan Crist, Wells Tower, John Wary, Brent Green, Sabrina Gscwandtner and Mac Premo. There will also be a short film screened at every event of this series that has also been commissioned by BAM. This new effort to commission work cannot be underestimated in its importance. I hope BAM continues to do such things, as it would essentially ensure BAM’s place in the future of New York arts, not just as a vessel through which so much important performance passed, but that was responsible to making so much new work possible.

I do have one criticism to make though, this more along the gossip front. Although the series is co-presented by Brooklyn based literary magazine, A Public Space, founded by former editor of the Paris Review, Brigid Hughes, what goes sadly uncredited (at least in the flier for this program) is that it is the brainchild of BAM staffer, Peter Conroy. I know a newspaper will not get into these details. Why the institution insists on this kind of non-crediting is reprehensible lame. If they had hired an outside curator, that person most certainly would have gotten prominent mention, great thanks, and a lot of money. I can’t comment on the money situation, of which I have absolutely no knowledge, but I would assume that, where there is no credit, there is no cash. Just sayin’.

So go out and support this Next Wave Festival. It is taking some bold leaps forward and some careful leaps on-stage. And after 25 years, Joseph V. Melillo is making some bold moves. Who says you can’t teach an old programmer new tricks?