Mixing it Up: Fringe Choreographers Open the Door to Innovation in Dance-Making
How often do dance forms start off on the “fringes”—in a club, tiny theater, university dance studio, or even an individual home—and end up in the mainstream? Whether it’s vogueing, contact improvisation, or (think way back) jazz and even modern dance, some of the most influential movement styles have started off on the outskirts. While those “on the fringe” are often inimitable, standing apart even from those they inspire, the unique ideas at the center of these movement styles continue to change dance history.
Not all “fringe” ideas become mainstream. But all, in one way or another, they inspire new thinking about dance and dancing. Dancer takes you inside the work of several think-outside-the-box artists who are investigating new methods of choreography and defining the “fringe” of modern dance today. While no choreographic approach is universal, and methods are unique, each artist offers a fresh perspective to tap into—perhaps even in your own work!
Improvisation
A hallmark of those on the “fringe,” improvisation is an important composition method. Choreographer Tere O’Connor says improvisation is the road to “high-value, pure movement.” Dance maker Bill T. Jones is famous for his crystalline improvisations. His early work, like “Floating the Tongue” (1979), was “a stream of consciousness, unedited brain-to-mouth, duet crafted in-the-moment,” explains Leah Cox, Jones’ education coordinator and company member of eight years. He continues to use improvisational structures to construct material.
Improvisation is an integral part of choreographer Sally Silvers’ performance and composition practice. “When I’m improvising,” she says, “I don’t know what’s leading—my mind or body. I want to be in the moment as much as possible, to be integrated following my movement without thinking, without trying to hold on. It’s demanding.”
Video allows Silvers to preserve her improvisational discoveries and delay the editing process until the material has had time to sink in. “When you’re in the middle, creating, I don’t know that you can trust your opinion. I often feel I was doing nothing, then, when I see the video I say, ‘Gee I didn’t know all that was going on.’ Sometimes it’s the opposite; it’s the doldrums.” Silvers looks back at her videos months later. The footage becomes a means of understanding the important parts of the movement; it becomes “a tool for capturing the essence.”
Tip: For fresh ideas, try video taping yourself when you are improvising. Then, look back on the material to see if there are any phrases that catch your eye.
New video technology encouraged dance artist Koosil-ja to explore difficult theoretical ideas about the body through the interplay of video and movement. What she calls “live processing,” in part inspired by French philosopher Gilles Deleuze’s ideas about the body, asks specially trained performers to respond to (but not improvising on), the gestures and movements of images—from movies, magazines, you name it—streamed together and displayed on monitors throughout the performance area. “Live processing” is not about memorizing movement. Instead it makes dancers “receptive,” able to connect with visual cues and respond immediately with movement. Working this way “empowers the dancer’s creativity,” Koosil-ja says.
The Group
The idea of empowering dancers is important for many modern dance makers. “Fringe” choreographers commonly work closely with their cast, creating and testing movement before finalizing compositions.
“I find choreography has a lot to do with the dynamic between the group,” says site-specific choreographer Noémie Lafrance, who could be speaking for all of them. Managing a group requires rules and structures as much as specific steps; communal responsibility is paramount. “Dancers have a responsibility to perform their role, their movement, feel the direction of the overall piece while staying in sync as a group. That’s asking for another level of consciousness,” Lafrance says.
Within highly structured segments leaving movement “open,” improvised by either groups or individuals, is a challenge “fringe” choreographers and dancers embrace. Wally Cardona, never teaches specific movement anymore. He “directs, but the choreography comes from people (the group) making something happen. Different people, individuals and groups, all respond to instruction completely differently. Say the same thing to another group, it comes out different.” This freedom and experimentation is part of what makes this work exciting to do—and watch!
TIP: Create a set path through an environment. Give the dancers three rules about how to move or relate to each other. Tell them they must work together, and let them figure out how to move along the path.
Site
The role of the environment in the creative process engages many cutting-edge choreographers. Tailoring choreography to a space can be limiting, says Lafrance, but is also “open and full of possibilities.” Lafrance has used many unconventional spaces for performance: a long spiral staircase (“Descent,” 2002/03), a huge, empty swimming pool (“Agora," 2005) the undulating, curving roof of a Frank Gehry building (“Rapture,” 2008). “I’m inspired by the idea of space,” says Lafrance. Buildings “sometimes subliminally, make you feel a certain way,” like the difference between walking into a church or a restaurant.
TIP: Think about making dances for out-of-the-ordinary places like parks, train stations—even a grocery store.
A non-traditional performance space can also create opportunities for audience participation. “Tired of just watching dance,” Edisa Weeks, who once danced with Jones, wanted to actively “engage the audience,” give them “a stake in a performance” and a comfortable, safe place where “even the uncomfortable can play out.”
“Liaisons,” (2008) is a series of “engagements” for four dancers and the audience, performed in living rooms. Weeks’ choreographic approach included a set of instructional cards for performer Solomon Matea. Offering his hand to audience members Matea might: read and dance someone’s aura; exchange seats with audience members; and, always last, give control over his body to a person in the audience so that they lead him. “When Matea asks someone to dance, it’s half-way through the piece, it’s a gift. People have had time to feel comfortable in the setting and with the performers.” Engaging the audience directly lets choreographers and dancers “tease open barriers” between audience and performer “establishing, however briefly, a ‘real’ engagement” of audience and dancer.
Creating Space
Cardona utilizes non-traditional space, but also creates sites with materials and actions. During a period of intense solo touring, Cardona found himself in a multitude of spaces—studios, alternative spaces, prosceniums (“which are not all the same”). “The location affected my work, the work affected what I wanted to do to the space; it was an exciting conversation.” Trying to gain control over his environment, Cardona realized he could make unique works for each space, or he could control space with materials. Props like tape (which create lines on the floor), pieces of 4x4 lumber (their relationships change the appearance or proportions of the space), particleboard and butcher paper helped shape the diverse spaces he performed in. “That was an ‘aha’ moment.” As he worked with the materials, he realized how much they could do to create a look and feel. “It became clear that the objects could become anything depending on what I was doing with them. The objects were as relevant, had as much motion, as the dancers. They were integral partners.” Once dancers become comfortable with props, the possibilities are endless.
TIP: Try using props in the studio—anything can work. Some of the most creative uses of props come about by playing around with them. Just be sure to begin slowly and leave ample time for rehearsal. Dancers need to learn how to handle the props, become adept at manipulating them, and learn to negotiate the space safely.
Systems
Want to make cutting-edge work? Throw out what you know. “Why,” O’Connor asks, “if you introduce a theme, is it bad if it doesn’t return?” (It’s not, he would say.) For O’Connor, a dance has no singular meaning and should be open for interpretation. “Dance is completely subjective... I’d love to make a work that’s porous so that each person’s meaning can be injected into it without filter.” In his work, there is no linear narrative; it’s like “a cartoon cat and dog fight—in a cloud of dust a paw appears here, a tail there.”
But, how do you move away from narrative and still create something cohesive? Cardona starts with a circumstance. “I set up a site, I give people something to respond to, I respond to what I’m looking at. There’s very little ‘this is the outcome.’ It’s more like throwing a lot of objects into some kind of experience and seeing how they react.” Dancers and audiences need parameters, says Weeks. “Each scenario, your intention is different,” but if “the parameters of the task are known, trust develops.” It is important that the teacher or choreographer creates a space where it’s OK to take chances, and the audience and dancers feel safe.” If audiences (and by extension dancers) know they won’t be abandoned or belittled then they’re more willing to engage.” O’Conner’s method is nearly scientific. “I try to get people to go beyond their content to find the work’s choreographic sensibility, it’s own nature.” Some kind of logic will emerge, he says. And when it does, take note of what led up to it. He urges choreographers to keep track of the methods and structures that give meaning to their work. “Locating your own systems and tools for processing information in a choreographic way will be different for each maker; there is no one road.” In other words, get inspired and test out all of your wild and wacky ideas. Who knows where it could lead!
TIP: With a group of dancers, start with an idea, piece of music or selected props, so that there is a place to begin. But, approach making choreographic choices with openness and flexibility. Watch carefully. What jumps out at you? Take it from there and see where you end up.
Jones often begins with a base phrase that he manipulates—separating, expanding, applying, repeating and editing. Koosil-ja’s relies on special training; the dancers’ develop a “strong connection to the video source” and become comfortable responding to it. Silvers’ begins with simple references, like “setting the table” and riffs on the idea. Sections emerge and develop. Putting them together, is both an art and a science. “It becomes a combination of poetry, logistics, variety and practicality—one person’s been on stage too many times in a row or they can’t be in two places at once; there are too many fight scenes next to each other. I balance the factors, throw out a lot of stuff, and try to lead the viewer on an adventure down the rabbit hole.”
“How do you keep work fresh, real, profound?” Lafrance asks. If you are asking the question, you are already on your way.
“How do you keep work fresh, real, profound?” Lafrance asks. If you are asking the question, you are already on your way.
Try it! Give this exercise for generating movement a shot.
Finding a Common Language A lesson by BILL T. JONES/LEAH COX
This lesson is based on the initial exploration for Jones’ “Fondly Do We Hope...Fervently Do We Pray,” which premieres September 2009 at Ravinia Festival in Chicago. Originally used by the American Dance Asylum, of which Jones was a member, Jones uses explorations such as this to generate basic movement material for a piece. Jones improvised the five shapes that begin this exploration for his company.
• Five shapes are improvised for the group by a session leader or five individuals. Everyone learns all the shapes • Everyone improvises, freely dancing for no more than 10 counts in between each shape. • To build a phrase of set movements, dancers improvise between shapes with their eyes closed, opening them only on a pre-specified count. (For example, the leader may tell dancers to open their eyes on count 5 of their 10-count improvisation.) Upon opening their eyes, dancers take note of the movement or the design of who ever they see at that moment and incorporate what they see into their own phrase. This activity is repeated until each dancer has taken in several additional movements. • Eventually there are 12 counts total. Each phrase will contain the original 5 shapes, some individual movement, and movement gathered from observing each other. This creates a common language with unique moments.
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FOR MORE INFORMATION SEE THE FOLLOWING WEBSITES:
Wally Cardona www.wcvismorphing.org
Bill T. Jones www.billtjones.org
Koosil-ja www.dancekk.com
Noémie Lafrance www.sensproductions.org
Tere O’Connor www.tereoconnordance.org
Edisa Weeks www.deliriousdances.com