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Creative Research Center

Dance & the Human Spirit – Danceaturgs Reflect on the 2011-12 Repertory – by Marissa Aucoin, Elaine Gutierrez, Morgan Kelly & Colleen Lynch, with Ballet & Modern Studio Photography by Jessie Whelan

Posted in: Guest Essay

Breath was choreographed in 2011 by Fredrick Earl Mosley and set on dancers from Montclair State University’s Dance Department. Although the piece is fairly new compared to other pieces such as Opus 51, D-Man in the Waters and There is a Time, which also were performed in this year’s Works-A-Foot and DanceWorks, Breath has found its own way to connect with the repertory theme of “Dance and the Human Spirit”. The piece illustrates people’s reliance and trust in God (or a higher being) after traumatic experiences and how people turn to faith to help them cope. The title is very fitting. In the first moments after the lights come up, two dancers are seen onstage, one of whom is breathing deeply and slowly. This breathing motif is carried throughout the duration of the piece, and can be seen in the multiple high releases (lifting the sternum with the head tilted upwards), which emulate breathing. During the course of the piece, a series of solos, duets and quartets, as well as large groups are seen. This highlights and mirrors how every person deals with their faith in different ways, depending upon their background, upbringing, etc., in their daily lives or times of need. The gospel song “Pass Me Not” by Eddie James accompanies the choreography. The lyrics, “Pass me not O gentle Savior, Hear my humble cry…” call out and ask for help. Breath connects to this year’s theme of Dance and the Human Spirit because it illustrates how people turn to faith after trauma and also how people from diverse walks of life connect with their own spirituality and lift and support one another in times of need. — Elaine Gutierrez

There is a Time. In the book of Ecclesiastes, placed between the two other iconic phrases “the sun also rises,” and “[there is] nothing new under the sun,” we find the simple statement “There is a time for everything, and a time to every purpose under heaven.” Words that teach a lesson, instill a sense a purpose, and express the delicate balance of give and take that our own human spirit experiences in life. Not immune to this balance, we find choreographer José Limón taking this phrase and finding an inspiration to create one of his greatest works, “There is a Time. (1956)” The piece embodies the entire passage from chapter three of Ecclesiastes as it goes on to lay the framework for the human experience...

“There is a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.”

Separated into sections, There is a Time communicates all of these concepts through choreography and musicality, a variation on a theme. “Limón used as his theme a large circle, which, at the opening of the work, fills the stage and moves majestically as if to evoke the perpetual passage of time. This circle is seen repeatedly in many guises, rhythms and dramatic shapes, always making allusion to the text from Ecclesiastes and its evocation of the human experience.” [Jose Limon, www.limon.org] A circle, also symbolic of a womb, bears life and introduces humans as characters into their own stories. It is within these different stories that the characters endure a plethora of emotions and events, all related to the human experience. And it is within“There is a Time,” that Limón uses the dancers to assume the roles the text provides. A male soloist born into the piece experiences his own death minutes later; a trio of women collectively mourn their loss with heavy movement and even heavier hearts. A duet of a man and a woman, one desperate to be heard, the other longing for quiet and commonality, struggle with their differences; a girl bursting into laughter alone on stage, brings light to everyone watching. A group of people at war and in turmoil are pacified by the promise of peace, given by a lighthearted offering from a female soloist. At the conclusion, the group comes together with familiar movement to express one last message, “There is a time for love”. Each section, unique in its own way, shows how the classic fundamentals of José Limón technique can take an idea, or in this case a passage from Ecclesiastes, and create a piece that is relatable while still becoming larger than life, larger than all of us. Collectively, each section expresses an emotion or event that is part of the human experience, endured by all. “There is a Time” is the physical portrayal of the raw emotions that the human spirit experiences and that is embodied in every other piece in the Montclair State University dance department repertory for 2011-12. — Morgan Kelly

Opus 51. The version of Charles Weidman’s Opus 51 presented at the MSU Alexander Kasser Theater April 11 – 15 is the Opening Dance from what was originally a six-section work. The Opus 51 that Weidman presented at Bennington College in 1938 was comprised of: Opening Dance, March, Commedia, Solo, Duet, and Spectacle. Performers included nine members from the Weidman Company, including Weidman himself, and seven students from the student workshop group at the Bennington School of Dance. The piece in its entirety was 22 minutes long, as opposed to the approximately seven minutes that the MSU students performed. The music for this work was composed by Vivian Fine. The title for this specific work of Weidman’s came from the simple fact that this was Weidman’s 51st dance work. Unlike many of the dances being performed in Dance Works, the “Opening Dance” does not possess a particularly strong story or narrative. It portrays movement among a synchronized community of dancers. This driving sense of community allows the dancers to accept new members into the space and work as a single cohesive unit. It is this sense of community that embodies this year’s repertory theme of “Dance and the Human Spirit”. We survive and thrive through our relationships and connections with others. The same can be said for the “Opening Dance” of Opus 51. With such a small cast of dancers moving in unison, it becomes necessary to be extremely aware of and invested in the group you are dancing with. Once all the dancers have entered and we begin to work in unison, there comes a sense of oppositional energies not only within the movement of each individual dancer, but among the group as a whole. By drawing from the ‘pull’ of these opposing energies we are able to form a community of dancers deeply connected both physically and spiritually, allowing us to execute the piece in perfect harmony. – Marissa Aucoin

D-man in the Waters was created by Bill T. Jones in 1989, during a time when company member Damien Acquavella was dying of AIDS (D-man referring to Damien), and following the death of Bill’s partner Arnie Zane. In our intimate rehearsal with Bill on March 24th, he nevertheless verified that “D-man is not a piece about AIDS.” Rather, in reinforcement of our repertory theme this year, ‘Dance and the Human Spirit,’ D-Man is a piece about community. Bill defined community as people coming together around an idea. The idea we are coming together for, expressed in D-man and in Dance Works this year, is the celebration of the human spirit — coming together as a community to help one another rise above times of struggle and to celebrate life and survival. Bill explained to us that D-Man is a piece full of ghosts. The cast is ultimately emulating people who were very important to Bill when he created the piece. We could tell from the rehearsal with him that the memory of these people is imperative to him and it was necessary for him to bring those people back to life in rehearsal with stories and different movement qualities. Bill was inspiring and stimulating to work with. His energy permeated into all of our souls as he ran and jumped around the room, yelling at us to “feel the movement for ourselves.” He made it clear that movement isn’t about having a pointed back leg or a high extension; it is about the goal: Where is the movement going? Why are we moving? The choreography and music of D-man is enriched with Bill’s spirit. The movement phrases suggest the metaphor of water. And we are reminded by doing this piece that sometimes we swim against the current and sometimes we swim with it. Bill reminded us with his raw emotion that Arnie Zane died this very week in March, 24 years ago, in 1988. It will be important to think of Arnie during the Informance this week. – Colleen Lynch

Mind-dancing. It is an entirely new world for a photographer taking pictures of dance when the photographer herself is a dancer. This is the case for myself and the photographs that I have taken. As a dancer photographing dance, I know specifically what elements to look for and experiment with when photographing, such as when to snap a shot when the dancers are jumping. I can also visualize where I might want to be in the room after finding out what the type of movement is going to be. It’s a bit of a mind dance you have to do with yourself in order to capture the best moments in photographs. What I mean by mind-dance is that I imagine in my own mind that I am dancing the steps that the students participating in class are dancing. I imagine and feel in my mind’s eye how I would attack the movement, which helps me in looking for these elements in the dancers. And dancing the movement in my own mind helps me to take better photographs of the motion; because if I were literally dancing the movement, I would not be thinking about what I am doing, but rather what I am going to do next. I take this idea, and rather than physicalizing it, I keep it in my mind and capture these upcoming moments on other dancers with my camera. Being a dancer who is musically inclined also helps me. When taking the photographs of ballet and modern classes, I listened closely to the combination and musical instructions, and imaged myself doing the movement. I memorized the sequences, and danced along to the music in my mind so that I would know opportune times to snap a photograph. When capturing student-teacher interaction I often took continuous photographs because I know that a memorable candid moment can come at any point in this special interaction. — Jessie Whelan