Into The Light

I went to a Sunday matinee at the Four Seasons Centre for Chroma put on by the National Ballet. I usually pick an evening performance but I noticed that I often end up seeing the same roster such as Bridget Zehr and Zdenek Kovalina. I wanted to see Heather Ogden and Jiri Jelinek and other dancers in the principal roles.

Chroma is a contemporary ballet created by Wayne McGregor for the London Royal Ballet in 2006. This is the first time another company has commissioned it. Chroma combines 3 songs (Aluminum, The Hardest Button to Button, and Blue Orchid) by the White Stripes, orchestrated as instrumental pieces, with 3 additional songs from Joby Talbot. The stage looks like a white box where dancers come and go. It's a very pristine, sterile environment except when the light darkens to a deep blue. The movement is very spastic, quite different from the typical classical ballet. The dancers combined in groups of 2 or 3, with lots of grabs and lifts. There are some extraordinary poses such as a female who is in a vertical split (e.g., legs at 6 o'clock) who somehow manages to go beyond that into a pose that is closer to 10 past 6. An exciting piece driven by the percussiveness of the rock songs.

The next piece doesn't fit into the program. Serenade is a plot-less ballet by George Balachine set to Tchaikovsky's Op. 48 (Serenade in C Major for String Orchestra). In 1935 it might have seemed avant-garde and modern, and it might still fill that role on a different bill. But given the 2 modern pieces on display, it was rather bloodless and antiseptic. The most striking image was the opening, as the curtain lifted to reveal 17 women standing in diagonal lines, their right arm raised toward the light. The women, and occasionally a few men, danced in some set pieces, almost like a lesson or etude. The other interesting image was near the end, when the principal dancers untied their hair. What a change a little thing can do. I was astonished to realize that I never noticed female ballet dancers tie up their hair in tight buns. With their hair down, all their usual movements, spins, lifts, jumps somehow became different and strange.

The last piece, Emergence, is a recent offering by Canadian choreographer Crystal Pite. The stage looks like a beehive or a termite mound with the entire corps de ballet and the principal dancers coming on stage through a round opening. To electronic music and bleeps, with a droning undertone present at times, they twitch and move like giant insects. All are in black, with the men bare-chested and adorned with markings on their shoulders like tribal tattoos. Though there was some solos and smaller ensembles, it was mostly a mass of men or women dancers. They move in unison, degenerate into individual tics, and then back in sync again. The stage was miked so that you can hear them counting off their steps. It was a hivemind, humanity as an undifferentiated collective. And yet despite the mental disquiet with dancers as worker-drones, there is also something thrilling about a large group of people chanting and moving in utter precision and unison (see also: marching bands, cheerleaders, goose-stepping soldiers.) The dark homogeneous underbelly of Emergence complemented the bright airy virtuosity of Chroma.

Sticks To You

I came to see Loan Sharking, a dance recital at the Enwave Theatre on Saturday, in a roundabout way. During a recent chat about dancing, I highlighted the fun that is the Dusk Dances program. I mentioned that one of the more innovative pieces I saw a few years back was a hip-hop inspired ensemble dancing to classical music. People were unable to wrap their head around that juxtaposition or how the dancing would look. So I downloaded an example of a hip-hop pas de deux as seen in the video Man I Used To Be by k-os. It turns out that the group featured in that video, RUBBERBANDance, was visiting Toronto for a 2-show stint. So I simply had to check them out in person.

Loan Sharking is a repertory program highlighting choreography of Victor Quijada, who is also one of the dancers. He has choreographed for RUBBERBANDance and other companies. The first half are 3 pieces entitled Dr Ib Erif (Stravinsky's Firebird), Soft Watching the First Implosion (Vivaldi's Cello in A minor), and Attempt #2 at Reinventing the Hip Hop Routine (Brubeck's Take Five). The second half is a 30-minute condensed version of the full length piece Punto Ciego.

The group is a very dynamic, athletic group who is always in motion. Although some moves are easily recognized from hip-hop (the various hand-stands from break-dancing), it's not always obvious to a casual viewer the interesting mix of contemporary and hip-hop styles. During a portion of Punto Ciego, a female dancer moved through a series of postures, only to do them in the reverse order; she continues this forward and rewind, adding more and more movement. This is a re-working of the locking and popping style of choreography.

The pieces have a distinctive dance vocabulary. In addition to the mix of street dance and contemporary moves, there is a lot of interactions between dancers (Victor Quijada, Karen Castleman, Emmanuelle Le Phan, Marc Macaranas, Daniel Mayo, and Lila-Mae G. Talbot). Hands grabbing wrists and feet, elbows joining, lifts and rolls, the dancers are usually always in contact with each other - pushing and pulling. This may be common in contemporary dance but not in the usual hip-hop routines which usually emphasize either coordinated precise movements (e.g., the typical music video) or individualized acrobatics (the b-boy battle). On the other hand, the poses and movements often come from athletic and aggressive street dancing.

It was an evening of enjoyable dancing with Punto Ciego being the highlight. This piece also came with the tensest audience reaction I've witnessed. During a dancer's solo, a phone went off. Not only did someone answered it, but his disruption became louder and louder as it sounded like he was arguing vehemently with the usher who was escorting him out. When he finally jumped up on stage and his actions "became" part of the piece, the amused relief from the audience was palpable. The only downside to the recital is that Victor and Michelle were much stronger technically and more expressive than the other dancers. But since these were ensemble pieces and not 2 principal dancers with a corps, there was some balance issues with the choreography in the sense that some sections seemed weaker without their presence.

November Rain

On a cold, drizzly Thursday evening, I went down to the Horseshoe Tavern to listen to a couple of indie folk bands, mostly because I wanted to pick up Olenka's first CD as I am quite enjoying her sophomore disc. First up was Olenka but no Autumn Lovers. She did a good job holding down the fort as a solo but it wasn't quite as good without the full band. It's hard to get some crowd excitement given the melancholic nature of her music but sometimes she turns her performance too inward and low-key. On a couple of songs, a few members of the head-lining Wilderness of Manitoba came on-stage to add some backing vocals, a cello, a banjo, or some electric guitar. Her eponymous CD is yielding some nice tunes.

Next up is a plaid-shirted, bearded troubadour name Leif Vollebekk. With his slight frame, he is more of a grunge 90s throwback than a tough lumberjack. Following the tradition of Neil Young and Bob Dylan, whom he both re-interprets in 2 cover songs, he sings confessional songs such as Don't Go To Klaksvik and Quebec. His debut EP 'Inland' has generated some buzz. His sensitive style seems to resonate with the pre-dominantly female audience that showed up for his set.

I was going to stay for Wilderness of Manitoba, a countrified Mamas and Papas group that I saw opened for Basia Bulat. But the chilly evening and soporific mood put me in a drowsy state. I decided to grab the streetcar home before I fell asleep at the bar.

Cleopâtre, Je Vous Idolâtre

I went down to the TIFF Lightbox on a chilly Sunday night to see Cléo de 5 à 7, one of my favourite French New Wave movie by director Agnes Varda. Modern audiences would probably find it a little slow and boring (as attested by a gentleman who was deeply asleep in the front row as we filed out at the end). The film chronicles in "real time" Florence "Cléo" Victoire (Corinne Marchand), a young and vain singer, wandering through Parisian neighbourhoods from 5 pm to 7 pm, meeting up with strangers and friends. The only plot device is that she is waiting on a medical test, with the possibility of bad outcome, and her growing realization that her care-free lifestyle may be too shallow and unexamined. Cinephiles may also get a tickle out of the uncredited cameo appearances of various famous French personalitites from that era. As for myself, I particularly enjoy the melodramatic song Sans Toi sung by Cléo about half-way through, which gives a nice jolt if the viewer is become a bit despairing about the meandering and fluffy plot.

The other enjoyment is to simply immerse yourself in the beautiful city of Paris: the buildings, the bistros, the view. Every location is organically what every nouveau urban planner tries to accomplish nowadays: lively street life, walkable, and human-scaled. Inspired by the film, I looked up a few spot on Google. Alas, even in Paris, some areas have not escaped ugly suburban modernity. The area around Parc Montsouris looks like it may come straight out of Mimico. This may be an upgrade for Mimico but given that in the 60s, this quarter was lined with tree-filled streets and wonderful architecture. Luckily, other areas such as Rue Huygens around the café Le Dome still retain their old-world charm.

I've always wanted map out the neighbourhood and routes travelled by Cléo in this film. It would make a fun day tour to visit modern Paris and retrace her steps, chronicling what has changed. Maybe I'll get lucky and find a Corinne Marchand song in a jukebox in some old café along the way.