HQ Review: MADCO’s Dare to Dance - Friday
MADCO presented the first performance of the dance festival, Dare to Dance, on Friday, January 19th. The evening was the first of two performances as part of the festival and featured 13 dance pieces from various independent choreographers and dance companies in St. Louis and beyond. When writing about large performances, the prevailing challenge becomes discerning which pieces to mention. One option is to write in detail about every piece, though the risk is to belabor the task, another is to choose dance works at random, and the very worst option is to write about the dances which are personally most enjoyable to the writer. In lieu of these unsatisfactory options, the pieces mentioned here are those which for various reasons stood out as singular from the rest of the program. The night was full of talented artists and interesting choreographic viewpoints and any who are left absent here should not be viewed as a statement of merit but of the necessity of brevity.
The night opened with what the program called a “pre show performance” by student choreographer and dancer, Kayla Montgomery. The piece stood out by design as being separated from the larger body of the evening's work, although in terms of choreographic voice and movement quality could easily have been included in the main show. Montgomery is a 14-year old dancer, chosen from a group of nine other students to perform her work as part of the evening. The solo, set to Try a Little Tenderness by Otis Redding, was performed with startling maturity and confidence. Demonstrating remarkable musicality, Montgomery crossed in and out of dance forms; sometimes demonstrating long lines of ballet training, striking jazz silhouettes, or touching down on social dance influences. The piece was referential but thoroughly original and the result was a refreshing performance free of any affect or strain. Even being so young, Montgomery seemed in her element; a natural performer with the poise and self possession of a more seasoned dancer.
Another stand out piece of the evening was Quiet Fire, a joint effort by dancers and choreographers Erin Morris and Jane Tellini. Duke Ellington rang through the room as the lights came up to two women in swinging calf-length skirts and knotted, button-down shirts. They began center stage and standing with heads bent together, as if lost in conversation, bouncing and vibrating to the music. The playful piece wove in and out of jazz and modern dance styles; at times the dancers seemed delighted by the presence of an audience, slapping their knees and smiling out at us, and at other times they were engrossed in their own movements and in their relationship to each other. Morris and Tellini came together and apart throughout the piece in a lively, musical duet that was, to put it simply, so much fun to watch. The music seemed to live somewhere in their bellies, compelling them around the stage, arms and legs just barely keeping up tempo. It was a thrilling duet, performed with exuberance and ease. Watching the dance sometimes felt like voyeurism, as if the audience was observing two women at a party or at a concert, both unabashedly enjoying moving their bodies to a great song. The goal appeared to be utter enjoyment; and dancing, especially this way, sure seemed to feel good.
Prune Juice, choreographed and performed by Will Brighton, began with a jolt. A loud voice screamed, “HEY!” in the previously dark, quiet theater as the lights snapped on to a dancer rolling down the stage like a child down a steep hill, collapsing at the bottom. The audience visibly jumped all around me at this opening, then let out soft gasps and embarrassed giggles, waiting for what would come next. The music kicked in and the dancer picked himself off the floor. The song was a curious mixture of yodeling, classical, and chorale music by Rinde Eckert and Roomful of Teeth and set the tone of the piece; a notable degree of zaniness paired with disarming sincerity. Brighton moved in and out of the floor, sometimes with physical feats demonstrating mastery and other times with more of an undignified flop. The piece was a conundrum of qualities; there was an overall nonchalance peppered with sudden outbursts of violent action; now shaking, writhing, and throwing his body to the ground in audible slams to the floor, then seemingly being lifted back to his feet in effortless fashion. Watching this piece was an often jolting journey of kinesthetic empathy and was continually, delightfully, full of surprises.
The stand out piece in the second half was its opening, Etude N’1, choreographed by Jorrell Lawyer-Jefferson and performed by CJ Burroughs. The piece opens to a single dancer laying on her side, doused in a stark white spotlight and already in movement; accompanied by languid classical music by Sheku Kanneh-Mason. Burroughs moved with stunning clarity and ease in and out of long balletic lines maintaining a soft focus; seemingly lost in thought remembrance. The solo was originally meant to be performed by choreographer Lawyer-Jefferson but a last minute change put Burroughs in the spotlight instead. Watching the piece you would never have known it was meant for anyone else; the movement came from Burroughs with a deftness and confidence that read almost as improvisation. The composition of this piece seemed often less performative than meditative, with Burroughs never leaving her relatively tight circle of light. Lawyer-Jefferson described the piece in a post performance Q+A as a “living document” of technique and experience; an evolving study in body knowledge and expression. A depth of movement and lived-in quality spoke to this revelation of the body as a collection of an unfolding, lived history. The music and lights fade out as the dancer continues to move, going on without us. The hushed, introspective tone of this work, paired with Burrough’s absolute mastery, made it a case study for less is more.
FRIDAY’S PROGRAM:
January 19, 2024
Try A Little Tenderness by Kayla Montgomery (St. Louis, MO)
Remember Us by Cassie Callahan (St. Louis, MO)
14-Hour Day by Thomas Proctor (St. Louis, MO)
Quiet Fire by Erin Morris and Jane Tellini (St. Louis, MO)
Prune Juice by Will Brighton (St. Louis, MO)
Body by Minami Kikuchi (St. Charles, MO)
She’s my spiderweb by Annie Mitchell (St. Louis, MO)
Destructive Impulse by Caroline Gonsalves Bertho (St. Louis, MO)
The Poem Written at the Hill by Seyong Kim (Kalamazoo, MI)
Ascendancy by Sawyer McNamara and Dani Johnson (Chicago, IL)
Etude No. 1 by Jorrell Lawyer-Jefferson (St. Louis, MO)
Sincerely Yours by CJ Burroughs (St. Louis, MO)
Falling and Rising (excerpt) by Stephen Blood (Columbia, MO)
Photos courtesy of Carly Vanderheyden