Trisha…
TRISH!
We don’t have time for this.
That’s seriously how I felt as I trudged through the show on Thursday night.
You know, I wasn’t even going to write about it, until I saw it. And you know there’s a problem when a work inspires you to write about it out of a need to intervene between it and the artist, hoping to snap her out of whatever daze of contentment has apparently set in over the imagination, and urging her, begging her, to get serious.
I could be totally wrong here. It’s been known to happen. I’ve not been pleased with a lot of the performance I’ve seen recently. If some thing/moment/idea/execution grates against my sensibility early on, I seem to turn on the performance with a brutish force that is hard to abate. Furthermore, I’ve been having a hard time feeling at performances; or, rather, feeling anything more magnificent and inspiring than when the lights go down at the beginning; a rush and a quiet recess into oblivion, before the lights come back on and three people are clinging to a wall with holes cut into it, with a kaleidoscope of images–like every other kaleidoscope of images I have ever seen on-stage–washing their black and white painter’s uniform in shifting, if perfunctory dynamics of light.
It’s an old piece, Planes (1968). The idea is brilliant. Execution ok (honestly bothersome when you can see the performers change their minds, disrupting what should ((I think)) be fluid).
Who should I blame for the projections? You or Merce? Who started this all? This fact that video projection is the criterion of intellectually condoned performance in our time? Have we come full circle, from occidental, to irrelevant? The whole thing felt meaningless; not out of a need for interpretation to elicit meaning, but for a thing to have been chosen out of absolute necessity and inspiration.
Conversely, the best thing about O zlozony / O composite was the starry backdrop (thanks, Vija Celmins), beckoning me toward oblivion; to weightlessness; calling me back to the opening black out. Instead, I have to wrestle with why you’ve chosen to create these movements; to dance at all. Those little quirks can be endearing–they’re so human, I suppose–but sometimes feel a bit eccentric, too human, maybe; or just too much about you.
And they love you. They do. And why not? I do too, or, at least, I want to. I want to think, or feel, that everything you touch is golden; that your ideas are as rigorous as your composition; that your choice of collaborators is based on inspiration and a will to building something great together, and not just a lark, or worse, a sum; i.e. Trisha + other-famous-artist-X = …
The French dancers were lovely, but the men were out of sync often. Neither I nor my boyfriend could tell who was at fault. Could it have been you?
Glacial Decoy (1979) = Trish + Bob Rauschenberg = Hit Me Baby One More Time?
= More projections + nightgowns.
= Why do I care?
And I hear him now. No, not Bob. But Alastair, scolding me not to make a big issue of the costumes and the sets.
Ok. So, about the dance…
Lovely, really. So you. So delicate and occasionally…vulgar isn’t the word. Sassy? A pinch so I know you’re there behind this dancer’s body. I can see you, Trisha, dancing all of these parts. I can see you coming up with the movement in your studio, full of time and full of yourself. Is it all about you again?
Is my work all about me? Where is oblivion when you need it?
Oh, wait, L’Amour au theatre. ?.
This is what’s on your mind? This is what’s got your goat? This is coming into the world now? At BAM? Rameau? A world premiere?
FOR WHAT WORLD?
There’s too much out there that begs being answered. Too much experience, too many questions to be entertained like this. Too many things that need to be accounted for.
Trisha, if anything, you’ve strangled theater here. No breath, but the recycled air of the past thirty years; canned music; whimsy. Silence = Death. You know the saying. The theater is dying, and your finger prints are all over it’s neck.
Why do this? Why keep theater from blinding us like a mirror?
But you don’t have to explain yourself, do you? You’re Trisha Brown. And I’m an aspiring…
You’re Trisha Brown and I can’t…
You’re Trisha Brown…
Legend.
Grandmother.
I didn’t even know who you were until I started working at BAM. I lived a quarter of a century with you completely inconsequential to my life. So now, you have to make yourself consequential to it. You have to earn that.
You know, the most inspiring you’ve ever been to me was…and you didn’t know me, or know that I was watching, or that I cared to watch and store this in my memory forever…was watching you dance with Joe Melillo at a benefit in the Hamptons, one hot night, about five summers ago. You were rich (in spirit), and limber (in joints). Your smile was deep and your body gave off such a spirit, and Joe was a brave partner, twirling you under the white roof of the tent; dancing with the dancemaker of dance. I loved that; I loved love. Loved seeing you give so much to the moment.
Maybe all art is negative. It can’t be life, ever.
I’ve been mulling this crisis for a little while now. What’s worse: Silent art, or no art at all?
Oblivion, oblivion: Say something.
Tell me there’s more to Trisha Brown than the name, and the woman who comes out to bow at the end to big applause. Tell me you have doubts. Show me those. Show me your flowing dress on a sultry night in summertime. Make me a memory as fast as you can.
Just stop making real things that are as empty as they are complete.
Oblivion…(sigh)…silence…(shatter)…
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I really appreciate your honesty. I get depressed sometimes about the state of dance as well.
Wow, well I didn’t see the performance, nor have I seen a TB show (though I did find a most itching art book at The New Museum about her that left my ears permanently perked like TB sonar), but I have to say the passion chock full overview here left me with more feeling than any dancer I’ve seen express. (sorry dancer people, I am a dancer inherently, but I have to say that dance performances seem to neglect the face as inclusive in the movement expression (beyond me why?) I’m sorry that the CC was left with unfulfilled desire, but your ferver in writing satisfied my lack of viewing. Thanks!
When will critics write about the art and put the actual craft before their opinions?
You did not write one ounce about the actual choreography you found so offensive. Perhaps Trisha was challenging your cynicism? It is easier to be opinionated than to actually open up to the art give to you. When will we have an open dialogue about the art before us, rather than what you wished you saw? I don’t care about your opinions, I care about the dance.
You used the word oblivion 6 times, twice in the opening paragraphs, and then like a bratty teen to close out. You know, I don’t know why dance critics are so lousy at their jobs. You’d think, if they wish to wake to such a career on a daily basis, they’d be fierce at investigating this art form; that they’d want to take such achievement to their grave. Not just pay the bills. Countering critics is a responsibility that I’m glad can rest in the hands of the public in this day in age, but I don’t know that I’ll ever waste my time again linking to this site. Congratulations, you’ve set the bar low. This is a rough draft full of personal shots that uncovers only what you claim, it’s all about you. Yeah, look me up, old TB dancer… probably share some similar critique of this show, which is why I curiously linked, but come on… this is shit.
Ladies (Tonya, Dana), thanks for the support.
Toxic Avenger, you have no business reading criticism if you’re not interested in opinion.
That said, I totally get where your coming from. But for this piece, I couldn’t bring myself to address the movement, because what more can be said about Trisha’s choreography. It is consistent, and, to my eyes hasn’t appeared to have changed: Ever. Or, at least, not for a while.
There is nothing new I can add that hasn’t been said before, and, perhaps, more articulately.
Alistair Macaulay’s review (http://tinyurl.com/dazgca) was right on. Especially his criticisms–his opinion, btw–at the very end. This “consistency” of being “undisturbing” is itself disturbing, and, for me, is fatal, in terms of my attention.
Maybe if you had read more of my writing (here is the first piece I wrote about Ms. Brown: http://tinyurl.com/dd6u89; and here, the second: http://tinyurl.com/dz3a5u), you might have properly situated this review within a narrative, specific to my writing about Trisha Brown’s work, that devolves from appreciation and entertainment, to challenged appreciation, to frustration, and ultimately, to nothing.
I care about dance too, which is why I had nothing to say about Ms. Brown’s.
Hey Tony-
I wish I had time to respond to this in full at the moment.
For now, you should know that I don’t have to look you up, as we know each other. We’ve been introduced several times; we share mutual friends. And I’ve seen you perform on at least two occasions.
You may not have realized that when you wrote this.
I will respond, not out of counterattack, but out of respect and the sense of an opportunity to break through some big barrier here.
Until then,
C.C.
Hi, cc,
Re: Tony, I just wanted to say *I* care about your opinions. The idea that as critics our job is to be automaton reporters offends me. Do we expect choreographers to be automaton makers of movement? to stop having ideas or feelings and just make up some movement? I don’t think so; still choreographers regularly make this charge, that we’re not not sticking to the movement (i.e., as they see it). It’s weird for this Tony guy to ask for respect when he offers none.
That said, it’s always an issue–always a deliberate choice– how much of the movement we talk about. It made sense to me here that you didn’t do a blow by blow, because your point was that the movement was hermetically sealed–that it didn’t have enough fissures of doubt or pleasure to give the audience (or this audience, anyway) a way in.
Anyway, thanks for writing this. ~Apollinaire
You definitely need an intervention! I do hope you can see your way out of this funk; I find your view and Alastair Macaulay’s view of dance to be very short sighted. Dance, like music, can be beautiful whether its content is “consistent”, “inconsistent”, “disturbing”, or “undisturbing”; both life wrenching blues and minimalist music can be beautiful and moving.
Speaking of music, I find it amazing that neither you nor Mr. Macaulay, talked about music and score in TB’s work; it was a huge element in the show.
To me, the selected pieces show Trisha Brown’s development of the relationship between dance movement and dance score. It seems to me that TB, in her early work, worked with visual/graphic rhythms to free her movements from the tyranny of music. In her new works, music is brought back, not as a tyrant, but as a collaborator. The pieces selected shows how her work with the score has greatly expanded her expression of movement. Her body of work is not without “toughness or rigor of mind or technique”. If both you and Mr. Macaulay look carefully at her work, I would think that you would see that she continues to challenge herself and evolve.
The following are some of my observations regarding the relationship between the score and the movement for each piece:
Planes (1968):
Here the active score is Jud Yalkut’s film collage of various elements relating to scale and gravity (the changing scale of the view of the earth as seen from a rocket launch, views of the expanding universe, views of the human figure as seen from toe level through a fish eye lense, microscopic views of sperm heading towards an egg, macroscopic views of the stars of the universe).
Climbing on a wall, the dancers need to find a foothold so that they can advance and suspend themselves against gravity; their physical movement is very limited. Visually, however, their movements appear to be quite expansive; the video, by changing scale and moving dynamically, constantly shift and morph their bodies and shadows. I find this relationship of physically restricted movement and visually expansive movement especially poetic for a piece from that particular time period (advances in science, space exploration, etc.). The dancer’s insecurities/indecisions of the movement, in trying to obtain a secure hold, also speaks to that time.
There is an atmospheric sound piece by Simone Forti that behave much as the dancers. The range of sound is very limited and narrow, however the form and relationship of the sound shifts depending on the video image that is being shown.
O zlozony/O composite (2004):
Here the score is provided by Laurie Anderson. The score can be broken down into three basic elements: a woman’s vocal, one base beat/rhythm, and another base beat/rhythm. Here, there is a correlation between the dancer and the music: one woman, two men and one female vocal, two base/rhythms. The music and dancers, however, are not interlinked; when the woman is dancing with the two men, it does not necessarily mean there will be accompanying music consisting of the woman’s vocal and the two base beats. The dancers’ move at times synchronously with the music and at times independently. There is in reality two pas de trois occurring at the same time; sometimes the pas de trois decides to sync, sometimes they counter and overlap each other. This independent coexistence of dance movement and music can also be seen at the smaller scale of the individual dancer to the music.
How Alastair Macaulay can compare this piece to Frederick Ashton’s Monotones is beyond me. The comparison is purely superficial and irrelevant. If we look at both dances as dance pieces (and not as individual dance movements), how can one judge “O zlozony/O composite” to be “on the waffly side” in comparison to “Monotones”?
Glacial Decoy (1979):
Rauschenberg score: slides as visual time marker, keeping very regular time. The photos are of objects and things. Maybe these object and things evoke feelings and memories; definitely, these objects and things have a composition (textures, density of lines, openness of space, areas of really dark and areas of really light, etc). This moving visual composition is the score that the dancers dance in front of.
The slides are repeated in the background, however, they shift. The dancers’ movement repeat and mimic each other from one side of the stage to another. In the photos and in the dancers, there is this shifting of the copies.. of duplicate, triplicate, quadruplicate. The costumes are translucent overlays on the form of the body; it slides, shifting, following the dancers. The costumes render much like the ghostly photo transfer collage work of Rauschenberg.
Is there a relationship between the choreography of the dance and Rauschenberg ghostly photo transfer collage art work?
L’Amour au theatre (2009):
Here excerpts from Rameau’s “Hippolyte et Aricie” are used as the score. Here, the music is a central figure continuously present (unlike O zlozony/O composite). Musically it is also much more layered and intricate; additionally, there is a layer of story (a hunt on horse back, there are nautical themes).
TB pulls off a very intricate and subtle relationship between the dance movement and music. The variety of movements rivals that of the layered variety of sounds, here however, the syncing/unsyncing of the movement and the music is much finer. This close, true collaboration of the score and movement begin to allow you to see the richly layered space between the beats and rhythms of the music and hear the music flowing within the dance movements.
I felt compelled to respond to both you and Mr. Macaulay as I felt TB’s work was being really short-changed by both your reviews; I felt these attacks on her rigor and seriousness was undeserving. I hope my comments are convincing enough to persuade you to revisit your thoughts on Trisha Brown and her work. Hopefully it will; I would love to hear what you think. I do appreciate that you are posting and keeping this forum open for the exchange of ideas. Much thanks!
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