HQ Review: RESILIENCE Dance Company’s “Entry Points”
Resilience Dance Company’s newest works were shown at Intersect Arts last weekend and consisted of five distinct dance pieces by an array of choreographers. The evening offered dynamic movement and demonstrated a breadth of tone and content within a 75-minute runtime.
The evening began with CANNIBAL, a piece whose title was ominous enough even before reading the description provided in the program. The work was choreographed by Mike Esperanza and quotes Dali in the notes: “Let my enemies devour each other.” Dancers entered one at a time to a pulsing soundtrack, created partnerships, duets, sometimes trios, each interaction fraught and tonally perplexing. Were they egging one another on? Seducing or fighting one another? The dancers mostly looked straight ahead at the audience, expressions fixed and somewhat blank, reaching out to find one another with arms and legs. Sparsely dressed in shades of white and skin-toned clothing, their movements were sharp, combative, and contained. The dancers pushed, pulled, and manipulated each other's bodies for most of the work with a brief interlude of unison; a welcome respite from all the prodding and pulling. The piece culminated in a jarring finale: all six dancers piled atop one another moving forward towards the audience, yet somehow constantly pulling one another back, creating an undulating, breathing mass of arms, legs, and faces yearning forward into the stark white light. If the work makes reference to enemies devouring one another, one begins, in this final unsettling moment, to ask: who exactly is the enemy here? The work is volatile throughout, ending with a single dancer being pulled, struggling, by her leg offstage as the rest of the performers slink away behind her.
The next piece represents a tone shift in almost every way. Traverse is a piece choreographed by Suzanne Beahrs and Xi Zhao and, according to program notes, centers around groundedness and connection to the earth in times of external conflict. The lights came up slowly to reveal the dancers already in motion, backs to us, moving together. There was no music, only the sounds of shuffling feet and breathing. The dancers were dressed in soft neutral tones and the soundtrack, which eventually comes into play, consisted sometimes of natural sounds, birds and ambient noise, other times of a stark jazz horn, but always interspersed with luxurious moments of silence wherein the dancers, seemingly unaware of our presence, continue to move. The order of show here is commendable: the shift in energy is soothing and the dancers seemed to intuitively understand the shift as it was reflected in their focus. Here the gaze was soft, inward, sometimes they seemed unaware of being watched at all: creating a moment of contrast from the intense focus of the opener. After a slow start this piece eventually erupted into large movements emanating from the breath of the dancers and building into satisfying circles and falls. The work ended with dancers spread throughout the stage, facing the audience, jumping in rhythmic unison from both feet, shoulders and arms responding with exaggerated rebound, like children in exuberant play, until the music and lights fade away entirely.
Trust Completely To represents, in this viewers opinion, the highlight of the night and signified several moments of innovative performance. It is rare to see work which surprises, but this piece, created by Persi Mey and set to Helter Skelter by the Beatles, stands out in this respect. The dancers wore silk pajama-esque costumes with black blindfolds over their eyes and the movement was zany, playful, slightly unhinged, and unpredictable. There were satisfying moments of unison mixed with chaotic interludes while dancers called out (to themselves, to one another, to us?) non sequiturs, including: “I am allergic to lettuce!” “AC is illegal.” “Cats, cats, cats, cats!” The colorful use of voice and facial expression, performance elements often relegated to the realm of acting and a departure from the typical neutral expression of contemporary dance, can be treacherous territory for some performers and it is notable that these dancers moved between these particular elements of the work to great effect. What ensued was robust wackiness which eventually devolved into something more sinister. One by one dancers lost their blindfolds, compromising the formerly established uniformity, and broke away as individuals. One dancer was left on stage, groping for the discarded blindfolds of her companions, now littering the floor, and tied them one atop the next on her eyes. She was guided in this endeavor by another performer, eyes open and free from her blindfold, who led her around the stage with her voice, repeating the nonsensical phrases heard throughout the piece. This moment was almost painfully long and recalls a cruel scientific experiment, a hazing, or some sort of bizarre torture. At last, all the blindfolds accounted for, she was led off stage by the seeing dancer and the lights went out.
29 Encounters was next and suffered, unfairly I’m afraid, from difficult placement. Choreographed by Emily Haussler, the piece consisted of two dancers moving in wide circles connecting with one another in various fashion: meeting shoulders, partnering, or simply meeting eyes. The piece read like an exercise in, or classroom demonstration of, contemporary movement when seen next to the earlier works. Set to a pulsing beat, dancers engaged in a series of handstands, inversions, slides to the floor, prolonged eye contact, quick walking, and weight sharing. Performed with clarity and demonstrating the physical strength and mastery of the dancers, this particular piece, when following such complex and puzzling work, felt thin. Most notably it was missing the degree of risk taking which, at this point in the evening, we knew the dancers to be capable of.
The finale brought us to a satisfying culmination for the night. In deluge, choreographed by Rosanna Tavarez, the dancers seemed to let loose with full-bodied movements, leaps, and long uninterrupted sequences of movement. Each dancer was dressed uniquely and the movement and cadence gave the impression of being carried around the stage on a thundering, crashing wave.
Overall the movement profile of the night was well rehearsed, technically strong, and showcased a group of artists demonstrating full commitment to their material. A particular joy watching this company was the independent approach to movement shown by each dancer. The group of seven performers felt like a cohort of individuals and even in unison no one was lost to complete uniformity. I look forward to seeing more from this group of artists and from the company which seems to be seeking to innovate the way we foster and champion dance artists and careers in St Louis.
Photo by Lumosco