Projections of Dancers, and Imagination
A third of the way through Donna Uchizono’s new “Thin Air,” Hristoula Harakas balances as if she were midway through a running step: on the ball of one foot, body pitched forward precariously, time miraculously suspended for what feels like an amazingly long moment.
It’s one of several moments in “Thin Air,” performed at Dance Theater Workshop, when the inexplicable alchemy of a particular dancer, a specific quality of movement, the textured jangling of Fred Frith’s score and the moody lighting by Jane Shaw all coalesce into a compelling whole. And although these moments are intermittent, they are persuasive enough to keep the eye and mind engaged in Ms. Uchizono’s mysterious universe.
“Thin Air” opens with brief video images of three dancers (Ms. Harakas, Julie Alexander and Antonio Ramos, who also share credit for the choreography) projected onto a curtain. They seem to be floating, and when the curtain opens, the trio is revealed in a similar spot, sitting on eight-foot ladders on white plastic sheeting.
This juxtaposition of image and reality continues throughout “Thin Air,” which sets obsessive physical detail — bobbing, circling heads, shuffling yet precise footwork, wobbling hips, fluttering fingers — against broader, more theatrical episodes. In one scene clear plastic sheets descend from the ceiling; the dancers paint them, creating opaque surfaces on which projected images begin to emerge, to fairy-tale effect. In another, video is projected onto Ms. Harakas, who has donned a long white dress that serves as a canvas. The effect is of a strange living hologram.
For the most part, however, the video (by Michael Casselli) never seriously competes with the reality of the dancers and their intense concentration on the long sequences for isolated sections of the body. The most impressive of these is a passage for Ms. Harakas and Ms. Alexander, who do tiny swivels from their heels, occasionally touching a toe to an instep or bending while twisting their knees and hips. This, like the long opening sequence of nodding heads, could have been boring (and perhaps to some it was). But instead their minute changes in detail and rhythm, the hints at tap’s percussive strikes, and ballet’s small beaten steps, seem an understated testimony to small-scale virtuosity.
“Thin Air” is not as convincing all the way through its 75 minutes. It feels unevenly paced, and the theatrical grasp that Ms. Uchizono displays at times dissipates at others, when she adds too much to the mix. But it’s still a fine work, captivating in its formal detail and resonant in its atmospheric nuances.
“Thin Air” will be performed through Saturday at Dance Theater Workshop, 219 West 19th Street, Chelsea; (212) 691-6500 or dtw.org.
- Roslyn Sulcas, The New York Times
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Brian McCormick (October 14th, 2007 at 12:20 pm)
I would definitely be one of those who found the opening a bit drawn out, not boring, necessarily, but overplayed. I loved all of the movement in this work, which is Donna’s strength, I think. I’d certainly agree that the ‘leg duet’ was mesmerizing. The integration of video, and the way in which that was done was very effective. When Hristoula was projected onto Hristoula (live) it was very engaging (and reminiscent of Tony Oursler’s video art) and I would have welcomed more of that, instead of the silliness with the hanging plastic and Tony painting himself.
The plastic sheet on the stage was nice, adding not only sound and texture, but actually creating lines from one dancer to the other as the they twisted across the stage on top it.
All of the movement motifs worked, I think, to support Donna’s underlying concept for this piece, but weak transitions and too many ideas kept me from being completely in it the whole time.
And since this is a blog and not a review, let me also say I’d be very interested in seeing Donna make something for other than a trio.
Richert Schnorr (October 16th, 2007 at 5:33 pm)
I brought a good friend of mine to Donna’s performance last Thursday. My friend is a fiction writer, not a dancer or a choreographer, or any other sort of performing artist. She is a dance lover though, and I’ve brought her to many performances at Dance Theater Workshop and elsewhere over the years. When the lights came up after the performance, she looked at me and said “It was my absolute favorite thing you’ve brought me to - hands down.”
I was surprised. While I also enjoyed the work, I’ve brought her to things I thought were better constructed, perhaps more thoroughly thought out. But as a fiction writer she looks for specific details, for ambiance and mood. Even in conversation her words are descriptive and visual. She talks about the way light reflects off skin or the way the buildings look through fog. Donna’s work appealed to her sensibilities as a fiction writer and gave her a refined aesthetic perspective that surpassed any criticisms of its structure. Somewhere between the detail of the choreography and the color of the light, both Donna the maker and my friend the viewer found beauty in a jumbled assortment of movement, images, objects and sounds.