By Lynn Colburn Shapiro
How often do we get a chance to witness the influence of a great dance innovator on successive generations of choreographers, actually see its workings consciously rolled out on stage? Bravo to Winifred Haun and Lizzie Leopold for bringing us this rare occasion to contemplate and revisit the legacy of Martha Graham.
The program launches six Graham-inspired new works with a film of Graham performing her legendary 1930 solo, "Lamentation."
Her body shrouded from head to ankles in a fabric tube, the dancer rocks from side to side in eery slowness. As the piece expands spatially and emotionally, so does the fabric. The elegant simplicity of each gesture belies an intensity of inner turmoil that folds and unfolds in diagonal opposition of knees and arms within tautly-stretched fabric, an organic extension of the interior life of her body. Here, even in this very early work, we are reminded of Graham's stunning achievement in her discovery and codification of "contraction and release" and "the spiral" to drive gesture from the central impulse of the spine out through the extremeties and into the surrounding space. The dramatic impact of the piece comes to us not through the performer "acting," but rather, through the unity of shape, effort, and design creating a visual drama that is complete and profound. The dancer's face remains calm, and yet not blank, with a quietude colored only subtly by occasionally downcast eyelids. The utter clarity and directness of the movement is its own vehicle of dramatic expression and creates its own emotional universe in the dancer's body. That Graham was able to pioneer an entire technique and theatrical aesthetic based entirely on these elements is an artistic accomplishment comparable to the melodies of Mozart. She was able, through an exceedingly long and prolific career, to create a body of epic works that revolutionized theatrical dance across all genres, from classical ballet to Broadway, and through her school, to influence many generations of dancers, choreographers, and dance teachers.
Graham was not alone among early 20th-century artists who sought a representation of the human condition through a movement lexicon that more authentically gave voice to the psychological truth of the "soul's journey" through life. It would be remiss of us not to forget the significant contributions Doris Humphrey, Isadora Duncan, Louis Horst, Hanya Holm, Mary Wigman, and Kurt Joos. But Graham was uniquely inspired and driven by her vision of what she called "the inner landscape of man." Her unflappable faith in the ultimate rewards of perseverance and practice, even in light of frustration and disappointment, and the passion of her desire to achieve perfection drove her work. That, and her longevity, enabled her to have perhaps the greatest impact of her generation. In a program note, producers Haun and Leopold quote from Martha Graham's autobiography, Blood Memory: "Practice means to perform, over and over again in the face of all obstacles, some act of vision, of faith, of desire. Practice is a means of inviting the perfection desired." Hence, "Vision, Faith, & Desire."
Evidence of Graham influence on the six pieces ranged from Lisa Andrea Thurell's "The Maw" (1997), which borrowed heavily from Graham's movement vocabulary and her use of narrative dramatic structure, to Lizzie Leopold's "The Near Future" (premiere) and "Lamentation Variation" (premiere), both of which which appeared to be inspired more abstractly by the metaphor of fabric in its progenitor than by its actual content. Falling between these two arcs of influence are Ayako Kato's solo "Supposition" ( premiere), Peter Sparling's mixed-media video, "Patient Spider," and Winifred Haun's quasi-narrative "Don't Linger Too Long" (premiere).
Because the program so deliberately qualifies itself as being Graham-inspired, it is tempting to view the merits of each piece in light of that influence, but that perhaps would shortchange both the choreography and its audience. While it is interesting, and perhaps informative, to reflect on the nature and extent of Graham's influence on each of these pieces, they deserve to be considered as works of art that ultimately stand on their own.
Thurell's "The Maw" is divided into two distinct sections. In the first, a helpless male figure (Zada Cheeks) completely wrapped in rags like a mummy, struggles to free himself, accompanied by Allen Ginsberg's voice in a rant against society. Here, the theme is obvious: a man negotiates his restraints, both literal--his mummy wrap-- and figuratively--the strangulation society imposes on him, but its predictability is mitigated by Cheeks' mesmorizing performance as he struggles from bondage as an almost inhuman anonymity toward total liberation and with it, a specific identity. One can only speculate what part the two ghost-like "brides" play as they drift across the stage, but they add intrigue to the mythic narrative quality of the piece as they retrieve and clothe themselves in the man's discarded wrappings. Mystifying and yet engaging, in part two Cheeks emerges a new man in red robe, which he uses to great effect as he lords over, torments, and ultimately subdues the two women, now helpless supplicants at his mercy. Both the red robe and the sharp attack of the character's slicing movement suggest that he is his own version of the Devil, at war with himself and the world. Thurell's direct, repetitive gestures and bold attack throughout the choreography resonated strongly of Graham's heroic characters. Her use of opposition in the body and sharply contrasting impulses propelled by contraction and release accentuated their conflicted psyches and provided the dancers with meaty material and some exciting dancing on stage.
Haun's "Don't Linger Too Long" also had a narrative structure, although less linear, with eight dancers sitting around a table in silence. The eight male and female dancers create their own accompaniment with their rhythmic ritualization of the family meal, complete with the repetitive gestures of group prayer, cutting meat, eating, and drinking. There is a clear family father at the head of the table, and various family members, each taking a turn around the table. A substantial piece divided into several sections, "Don't Linger" combines cartwheels, handstands, and everyday gesture with more lyrical dance movement in a different take on slice-of-family-life. Haun integrated her props into the design of the choreography, incorporating table and chairs for exciting changes in level and focus. Her use of the ensemble to create a contrasting pallet of qualities--pulsing versus stillness, fast versus slow--and ever-changing patterns in the upstage and downstage quadrants made for a varied spatial design. Haun's choreography is hungry for space, with a strong, sweeping expanse. Here, simplicity of line and clear, consistent focus in the movement and its execution, which captured individual dancers' strengths, let us know know who these people are and how they are connected to one another.
Of Leopold's two pieces, "Lamentation Variation" held the greater interest, with eight dancers in a tightly-structured four-minute study. Least immitative on the program of Graham's movement, the choreography seems to have taken Graham's stretch fabric tube as a metaphor and transposed it into a living entity, so that paired dancers mirrored each other and became each other's stretch fabric drape, their movement stretching and folding upon each other.
In Leopold's "The Near Future" we encounter three women seated at the edge of a vast expanse of red fabric, which their movement gradually pushes upstage in a slow, methodical and repetitive progression. The repetitive movement reflected the familiar, repetitive music of Ravel's "Bolero," but never achieved Ravel's intensity of suspense or a new and creative interpretation that would have rendered the music a less cliched choice. Women lifting women became thematic, along with spider-like movement, and falling bodies catching one another. Amanda Dye's polished technique, clean, clear lines, clearly-directed energy and grounded sense of movement brought out the strengths of pattern and silence in the choreography.
Ayako Kato performed her solo, "Supposition" with precision and intensity, traversing a diagonal trajectory from her entrance at one far upstage corner to her exit at the opposite downstage corner. Dressed in a black sheath lined with cellophane, the costume made its own rustling music against a sound track of beeps and pulses reminiscent of a heart monitor, evoking Graham's "legend of the soul's journey" through life. The simple gesture of an outstretched arm and flexed hand, the uncurling toes in a deliberate footstep step drew riveting attention to the intensity and need of this character to cut a swath of energy through the space along her path. Each gesture was precise, measured, and deliberate, and yet held a kind of fascination for what would happen next. Altering the space around her, she seemed to be wrapped in her own invisible tube of fabric. At the climax of the piece, her palms touch the space and then each other in an exquisite moment of tactile awareness the audience could feel.
Peter Sparling's video solo, "Patient Spider," inspired by Walt Whitman's poem, A Noiseless Patient Spider, blends video technology with choreography to create a living canvas. Sparling makes deft use of computer technology to manipulate the video image, sometimes singular, sometimes in exponential multiples of himself, dancing alternately in video realism or highly abstracted by color, shape, and spatial design, but always using the dancer's body as subject. Again, the stark simplicity of gesture prevails to stunning effect. The beauty of the human body in motion becomes the substance of abstract design as it twists, folds, unfolds, and reaches out toward some longed-for but unattainable place.
Perhaps the one essential element of Graham's work that seems to inspire all six pieces in "Vision, Faith, & Desire," is the simplicity and centrality of gesture, but one can claim Graham's inspiration by setting foot on stage today and merely doing whatever it is you find you must do, for it is Graham who gave us all permission to run this errand into the maze.
Photo by Matthew Gregory Hollis of Winifred Haun's "Don't Linger Too Long".