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Bebe Miller
Ever go to a dance performance where you sit, absolutely exasperated for an hour and a half, and then at the end people are applauding and leaping to their feet and you wonder if you've lost your mind? So how much more sane did I feel after reading Allan Ulrich's review of Bebe Miller's "Landing/Place," which had a two-night run presented by the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts last weekend:
"The 70-minute Landing/Place, for all its passing excellences and truly stunning dancing, often seems to meander through its elaborate accoutrements, which often threaten to suffocate it. The non-stop projections by animation artist Vita Berezina-Blackburn and video artist Maya Ciarrochu, the arty lighting by Michael Mazzola (which often shrouds the five dancers’ faces in darkness) and the live, computer-generated score by Albert Mathias—the standard, often ear-splitting postmodern wallpaper music, with some odd emendations—seem less collaborative elements than distractions . . .
What has happened on stage for the past hour felt modular in the extreme. Episodes could, you sense, be rearranged without any of it making much of a difference. Expressiveness is not a problem with Miller. Structure and meaning are."
Mind you, Allan and I don't always agree, but you'll notice he went a mite farther than John Rockwell's "trust me, I have good taste" rave in the New York Times in backing up his aesthetic reactions.
You might also notice that the Chronicle did not cover "Landing/Place." Again, I'm not the one who calls the shots, so if you think it should have been covered, chip in your two cents to the editors--politely and with enthusiasm, please. Remember, the paper doesn't know what readers want covered unless you let them know. Heck, I don't know what the dance community wants covered unless the dance community lets me know. So here's an open question: Do you think touring dance companies like Marie Chouinard's and Bebe Miller's need to be covered? What if I told you the coverage would come at the expense of reviewing performances by some smaller local companies? Sadly, space in the paper for dance is a zero-sum game. What do you think should be prioritized?
And if you went to Bebe Miller Company over the weekend and want to stack your own reactions up against Allan's, click here to read the review.
October 31, 2005 · 09:32 PM · Dance · Comments (0)
Aesha Ash at LINES
Former New York City Ballet dancer Aesha Ash is the newest member of Alonzo King's LINES Ballet. I talked to her in advance of the company's fall season, opening Friday, for the Chronicle:
"It wasn't the most orthodox of job interviews. Dancer Aesha Ash first spoke by phone to choreographer Alonzo King.
"I said, 'I don't even know how I'm going to keep dancing,' " the doe-eyed 27-year-old recalls, sitting cross-legged in a studio at the San Francisco Dance Center. "I said, 'I'm so tired. I'm just totally disenchanted with the dance world right now, and I have no inspiration.' "
Her beautiful oval face still looks a bit weary. Just six months ago she was ready to end her stage career, worn down by the ballet world's insistence on rail-thinness and the pressures of being the only African American woman at the New York City Ballet. Now she is the newest member of King's Lines Ballet, dancing in the world premiere "Moroccan Project" at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts during the troupe's fall season next week, opening Friday."
Incidentally, the lead got chopped in two. I turned in "It wasn't the most orthodox of job interviews when Aesha Ash first spoke by phone to choreographer Alonzo King." No great shakes, I'll admit, but still I prefer it.
To read the whole story (and see some gorgeous photos of Aesha), click here.
October 31, 2005 · 09:25 PM · Dance · Comments (5)
Dr. Gong
A very strange day. At 9 a.m. I settled into my desk and picked up the phone to call my dentist’s office. I had an appointment for 11 and planned to cancel with a bogus excuse about having the flu. The woman on the other end said bluntly, “hello?” and when I asked if this was Dr. David Gong’s office the professionalism reentered her tone. I explained that I needed to cancel for 11 and she said “He’s not coming in today,” and I thought “Oh good, he’s sick too,” and then she said “Have you seen the news? There’s been a shooting. And they’ve let everyone back into the building and he hasn’t arrived and he just wouldn’t do that.”
I hung up with horrified apologies and I’ve been checking the news all day since. It seems some deranged man walked up to him at 7:50 a.m. a block from his office in the usually peaceful Polk Gulch/Russian Hill neighborhood and said “You remember me,” and shot him. Dr. Gong ran but was shot again, and then the man climbed into his own car and shot himself. This is the story from the SF Chronicle.
I’ve been thinking about Dr. Gong all day. I first went to him when I cracked open a filling on a back molar. He urged me to get a gold crown instead of porcelain, even though gold was less expensive and less profitable for him, because he swore it would last longer. His office was on the sixth floor of a building at Van Ness and Jackson and had a panoramic view of the San Francisco Bay. For some reason, every day I visited him the weather was clear, and you could see all the way to the hills and shrubs of Tiburon.
His office was decorated with color prints of photos he’d taken, vivid pictures of fish markets and bicycle races. He loved to talk about Lance Armstrong and the Tour de France. The thing I most got a kick out of about Dr. Gong is that he was very talkative and would never ask you the kind of yes/no conversation filler you could answer with your mouth full of dental equipment. Instead of asking “Is the writing going well?” he’d ask something involved like “Where do you get your inspiration?” And then he’d expect you to answer, and you’d wait till he stopped scraping or drilling and do your best to mumble a satisfactory response.
I really liked the guy. My heart goes out to his wife and two kids and the workers at his office.
October 27, 2005 · 04:47 PM · Comments (14)
Compagnie Marie Chouinard was simply an eye-opener at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts last weekend. I had never seen her work before and, like many I heard murmurring in the audience, was thrilled to see such a formalist working with such idiosyncratic mastery. She certainly knows how to get a rise out of people: She's obviously paired "24 Chopin Preludes" and "Le Cri du Monde" as companion pieces because the first is sheer delight, lulling you into warm expectancy before the next shocks you all the more effectively with sheer horror. Oh, and in both pieces the women's breasts were anchored with little more than a strip of black tape across the nipples. What most struck me, though, was how her dancers in their flailing braids and headdresses and their hyper, cartoonish gestures seemed like a strange tribe, "more human than human" as the hard rock song goes. And as an audience member I felt like a National Geographic observer sitting hushed in the bushes as the secrets of an alien yet disquietingly familiar species revealed themselves.
Allan Ulrich reviewed for Voice of Dance, and I pretty much agree with him point for point:
"Chouinard is fighting a trend. She prizes the sheer beauty derived from superior dancers moving through space. She values clarity of gesture. She esteems the combinations that can be gleaned from the architecture of the body afoot and in repose. Musculature gleams in these works, arms and fingers are exploited as much as legs, yet the feeling—how untrendy can you get?—is one of harmonious design. What’s missing, thank heaven, is the gratuitous layering of social concern that Bay Area audiences are fed by canny and manipulative presenters. There’s nothing here of the "affliction of the week" philosophy that most of the local press worships to distraction.
Nevertheless, there’s still something of the rebel about Chouinard (or there was, five or six years ago, when she premiered these works). The Chopin Preludes, Op. 24 (heard in a recording by an uncredited pianist) arrive with associations for dance folks, including Jerome Robbins’ piano ballets and, in orchestrated form, Michel Fokine’s Les Sylphides. Chouinard does, indeed, reference the latter, when the Prelude that accompanies the iconic opening of the Fokine ballet, underscores a fidgety solo for Chi Long, bathed in a crimson light. And the frieze-like postures may remind you of Nijinsky’s surviving ballets."
To read the whole review, go here.
And you may (or may not) have noticed that the San Francisco Chronicle did not review Compagnie Marie Chouinard in its Bay Area debut. Nor did the paper review Senegal's mesmerizing Compagnie Jant-Bi, or Faustin Linyekula's Studios Kabako, from Congo. And so here is my gentle prod, genuinely free of self-interest: If you think it's important for the Bay Area's leading newspaper to cover these visiting companies, make your case and let the paper know. Write or email the editors. Speak with enthusiasm, not castigation. Reader demand decides a lot when it comes to editorial decisions, and you can't complain unless you've piped up. I happen to think it's a shame not to get groundbreaking visiting companies like this into the paper. But I'm just one voice.
October 26, 2005 · 09:56 AM · Dance · Comments (0)
Check this out: my memoir "The Lost Night" is a November/December issue pick in Bookmarks Magazine:
"Howard, an arts writer for the San Francisco Chronicle, delivers a stunning debut. Forgoing the true-crime treatment, Howard remains restrained, her focus on the broad emotional panorama of the story instead of lurid details and self-pity. In crisp, unadorned prose, she explores broken families, drugs, rural California, and the hard emotional work of remembering. The Washington Post notes a “flavor of journal-writing” to The Lost Night, but it’s a mere quibble overshadowed by the heady chorus of critical praise. “[N]o novel based on Ms. Howard’s life,” concludes The Wall Street Journal, “no matter how skillfully crafted, could have been as believable as The Lost Night.” "
Click here to see the whole list.
October 23, 2005 · 09:50 AM · The Lost Night · Comments (1)
With Oakland Ballet performing Eugene Loring's "Billy the Kid" over the weekend, and American Ballet Theatre dancing Agnes de Mille's "Rodeo," it's a good moment to read Allan Ulrich's essay on Americana "heritage" ballets for Voice of Dance:
"In certain "with-it" circles, the neglect of a portion of the American legacy is almost perverse. You tell me why so many folks salivate at the mention of any and all Ballets Russes reconstructions and revivals, even if some of them, like Fokine’s "Polovtsian Dances" from Prince Igor are scarcely stageworthy in the 21st century. Then, tell me why the same folks roll their eyes and sigh patronizingly when someone drops Rodeo or Eugene Loring’s Billy the Kid into the conversation. Well, one reason is snobbery; anything with a hint of a Russian or French pedigree has gotta be better than anything Amurrican. Then, there’s the question of over-exposure. American ballets to American themes were once prevalent through the stateside ballet world, but not recently. "Dated" and "cornball" are tossed around, but these are adjectives I would sooner apply to the stale psychosexual tropes of Spectre de la Rose . . .
. . . we should not scorn the native tradition, simply because it is narrative based and derived, not from St. Petersburg’s Imperial Maryinsky Theater, but from the tradition of popular culture . . .
And don’t let anyone tell you this material cannot speak to us today. The final tableau of Billy, with the populace expanding inexorably Westward as Aaron Copland’s score sings with its unique rhetoric, is among the most affecting moments in the entire ballet repertoire. Even the snobs reach for their handkerchiefs."
October 17, 2005 · 01:06 PM · Dance · Comments (0)
Oakland Ballet Reborn
Maybe it had to be this way. Maybe the Oakland Ballet had to nearly die in order to be reborn. A year ago the company had no dancers, no studio, no season. Friday night it had energy, sass, and momentum to spare. The Oakland Ballet was indisputably alive.
A quick recap of the rise and fall and (we hope) rise again: In 1965, Ronn Guidi founded a ballet company in industrial Oakland, of all places. For decades it was a scrappy little home-grown troupe. Then, in the late 1970’s, Guidi got a taste for revivals. He started with Eugene Loring’s “Billy the Kid” and progressed to the Ballets Russes repertory, winning worldwide acclaim for resurrecting the startling and chic ballets of Bronislava Nijinska. But in 1998 Guidi suddenly quit, leaving a host of financial problems. Former Dance Theatre of Harlem ballerina Karen Brown took the helm in 2000, but the company seemed to flounder for direction—and funding. In 2004, just as the company’s dancing was starting to rebound, Brown cancelled the year’s season, fired the dancers, and issued an urgent call: Raise $500,000 immediately and launch a comeback 40th anniversary season in 2005, or close forever.
The money came through, and Brown opened this truncated 40th season with a program designed to celebrate the past and look to the future. Nijinska’s “Les Biches” and “Les Noces,” alas, did not show to best advantage in excerpt form; Loring’s “Billy the Kid,” with handsome Gabriel Williams as the outlaw gunman, was perhaps not as tension-charged as it could have been, but fared better. Former company dancer Michael Lowe’s “Double Happiness,” expanded since its premiere two years ago and accompanied by live Chinese folk music, proved the audience favorite.
But for me it was in Donald McKayle’s world premiere, “Ella,” that we saw glimpses of a company with a bright future. Finally Brown has called on a master to give Oakland Ballet what emerging choreographers like Robert Moses and Dwight Rhoden have failed to: a new ballet worth repeating, a ballet with the potential to become a company calling card. Set to—you guessed it—Ella Fitzgerald tunes, “Ella” is simple in concept, absolutely assured in melding the struts and swaggers of African American dance to ballet technique. Even with a nasal and unmusical chanteuse on live vocals, “Ella” had the crowd swinging.
Because the thing is—God knows how he got the rehearsal time and the energy to do it—McKayle has gotten the Oakland dancers to strut like they own it. I dare anyone to take their eyes off Phaedra Jarrett bopping her bouncy, hip-swaying way through “A Tisket A Tasket,” or to so much as check the program during Preston Dugger III’s rippling, stop-on-a-dime rendition of the closer, “In My Solitude.”
To be sure, this is the strongest crop of dancers Brown has fielded in the last five years. The men’s contingent, once a source of edge-of-your-seat unease (will he break his ankle trying to finish that double tour?), now bounds from strength to strength. Williams, the most promising leading man before the company’s closure, has returned with more technique than ever. Matthew Linzer is a tall, beautifully proportioned addition to the roster, and Dugger is an Ailey-esque virtuoso of balance and power. On the women’s side, the MVPs are Jarrett and the fine-boned, ladylike Cynthia Sheppard. Amazonian Ilana Goldman also gets a lot of play, and while I’ve yet to take a shine to her dancing, which strikes me as a bit stiff (she was particularly not suited to the terre-a-terre footwork of the hostess in “Les Biches”), I’m not ruling her out yet.
But perhaps just as important as the new dancers is Oakland Ballet’s new venue. No more funereal evenings in the vast and sparsely populated Paramount Theater. True, the company is still working out the kinks at their new home, the Calvin Simmons: A will-call line to the tiny box office trailed down the windy block, live music from the Marcus Shelby Orchestra for “Ella” was painfully over-amplified, and patrons in the VIP Olympic Club weren’t alerted to the end of intermission, sending dozens of attendees scurrying in the dark for their seats after the curtain had risen on “Billy the Kid.” But the house—which holds about 1,000—was well populated, the sightlines good, the stage ample, and the excitement bouncing back and forth from the dancers and the crowd palpable.
It’s a small shame, then, that these dancers won’t have much chance this year to keep the momentum going. Brown has elected for family fare on the company’s November program: Guidi’s “Peter and the Wolf,” which even he has described as not one of his better ballets, and “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” by a choreographer I’ve never heard of, Scott Rink. Whether the kid-friendly strategy will help build an audience base remains to be seen, but from a selfish standpoint, how much more thrilling would it have been to see full productions of “Les Biches” and “Les Noces” instead?
Still, for the first time since Brown became artistic director, I had the sense Friday night that she is a woman with a plan. She has the dancers now, and the right space; what she’ll need is more commissions on the order of “Ella,” and more regular and thoroughly coached revivals of the Ballets Russes rep. Can she do it? Was the strength of this comeback program a one-off? I don’t know, but I’m looking forward to finding out.
October 16, 2005 · 03:42 PM · Dance · Comments (0)
Kirov's "Beauty"
I reviewed Wednesday night's performance of the Kirov Ballet for the SF Chronicle:
"It was a wondrous sight Wednesday night: Diana Vishneva en pointe, her other leg held artfully behind her, the whole perfect sculpture twirling beneath the hand of first one suitor, then another. She seemed incapable of wavering; though turning, she became the still point around which the rest of the world revolved. It was the kind of special effect to make even a seasoned ballet lover say "Ah! So that's what that moment can be."
Fortunately for ticket holders to performances by other casts, the Kirov Ballet's "The Sleeping Beauty," presented by UC Berkeley's Cal Performances through Sunday, isn't dependent on the star power of one internationally ascendant ballerina. Running three hours and 40 minutes, this is an Imperial Russian feast to slowly savor (and you'll want to mill about during each of three intermissions to aid digestion). After all, this 1890 ballet -- the first collaboration between Tchaikovsky and the French-born ballet master Marius Petipa -- originated at the Kirov, and the company has been an authoritative caretaker ever since.
The latest installment of that legacy is a sumptuous and painstaking 1999 "reconstruction," but that's not the production on view during the current U.S. tour. Instead the company has brought Konstantin Sergeyev's dramatically thin, redeemingly charming 1952 staging. "The Sleeping Beauty" can be a thematically rich experience, a powerful allegory of mature love. Sergeyev's version is more of a hoot."
For the full review (it's a short one, alas), click here.
October 14, 2005 · 05:30 PM · Dance · Comments (0)
The New Hula
I wrote about Patrick Makuakane's "progressive hula" for today's Chronicle Pink Section.
"U2 blasts on the stereo system as two dozen women shake their hips. Bare feet touch the auditorium's tile floor, skirts sway, hands trace a silent language in the air as Bono sings of "Mysterious Ways."
Patrick Makuakane watches with crossed arms as the women return holding paper flowers. Their movements lull above the drum and bass of a techno track. Then the beat explodes into double-time, and so does the sea of bodies, one mass of rippling torsos changing direction in mesmerizing sync. The women become still as a group of men enter on hands and knees, noses sniffing like animals.
"It's a piece about a flying vagina and a pig who chases after it," Makuakane explains during rehearsal break. "You see, the Fire Goddess Pele has an adversarial relationship with a Pig God. The Pig is getting too amorous. Her older sister has a detachable vagina and sends it over, and the Pig gets distracted and follows it to the other island. And my dancers use the flowers as a symbol of the vagina.
"Of course it sounds humorous," he says. "But it all comes from Hawaiian legends. And when Hawaiians hear this huge epic myth, the whole detachable vagina section isn't snickered at. A lot of hula has to do with procreation."
Welcome to Makuakane's strange, entrancing world of hula mua, or "progressive hula." Cyndi Lauper, Annie Lennox, Roberta Flack -- no music is off-limits. Modern in sound, hypnotic in effect, these dances attract sold-out crowds of hula fans and newcomers alike. But it's Makuakane's immersion in tradition -- not his liberation from it -- that has made him the leading kumu hula, or teacher, in the Bay Area. "
Click here for the full story.
October 09, 2005 · 06:24 PM · Dance · Comments (0)
Bookslut Reviews
Great review of my memoir "The Lost Night" just up on one of my favorite literary sites, Bookslut:
"Late one summer evening, in the stifling heat of the central California valley, someone entered Stan Howard's home, stole a knife from the kitchen, and stabbed him to death in his bedroom, just down the hall from his sleeping 10 year-old daughter, Rachel.
Nineteen years later sees the publication of Rachel Howard's memoir The Lost Night. The added-on subtitle, A Daughter’s Search for the Truth of her Father’s Murder couldn’t be more than a marketing scam. Luckily for us, this refreshingly honest memoir isn't your run-of-the-mill true crime mystery. In fact the difference is so extreme that the subtitle seems almost to be an ironic jab at such pretensions. There is no pat ending here that tells exactly who did what in the library with the candlestick, or even any semblance of vengeance or justice. Instead the story turns out to be a penetrating journey into the nature of memory, both suppressed and imagined, and the resulting traumas that reverberate for decades after such a violent loss."
Click here to read the whole thing.
October 04, 2005 · 10:41 PM · The Lost Night · Comments (0)
Oakland Ballet's Comeback
A lot of people are landing on this old entry via Google searches for Oakland Ballet. The old entry is below, but if you want to more know about the return of Oakland Ballet and Ronn Guidi, I suggest you check out this story, which I wrote for the Chronicle in July 2007:
"Ronn Guidi rises from the restaurant table, leg suddenly stretching into full développé as he recounts a rehearsal with the famous choreographer Leonide Massine.
"You see, half the dancers were doing this," Guidi demonstrates with a sweeping arm, nearly knocking into the next table. "And half were doing this. And I said to Massine, 'Which is it?' And he turned to me and said, 'Ronn, it's not the steps. It's the integrity behind the movement.' "
Guidi is somewhere between 70 and 73 years old - he says he's lost track - but with his spry frame, wiry black hair and thick beard, he could pass for someone in his 50s. His face is wild-eyed and puckish, as it always is when he talks about the glory days of the Oakland Ballet, but today he looks especially excited. He's about to attempt a remarkable resurrection. Forty-two years after founding the Oakland Ballet, 20 years after raising it to unlikely international repute, nine years after suddenly retiring, and seven years after watching his beloved creation begin a steady slide toward death, Guidi is bringing the Oakland Ballet back.
The resuscitation started cautiously, with four performances of his "Nutcracker" last year, danced by a swiftly assembled ensemble of Oakland Ballet alumni and other freelance dancers. But with those shows well attended and cash-flow positive, Guidi says he's ready to go full tilt. The new Oakland Ballet Company will give its inaugural performance at the Paramount Theatre on Oct. 20, under the auspices of the Ronn Guidi Foundation for the Performing Arts.
The program will include a reconstruction of Vaslav Nijinksy's 1912 watershed "Afternoon of a Faun," Marc Wilde's "Bolero" and Guidi's own "Trois Gymnopedies" and "Carnaval d'Aix." Then, in December, "Nutcracker" will return for six performances before touring to Lake Tahoe. All shows will feature live music from the Oakland East Bay Symphony. Rehearsals will be at the Oakland Ballet Academy, where Guidi still teaches 13 classes a week.
Twelve dancers have been hired, and further auditions will soon be announced. Chevron and Target have signed as major sponsors. The city of Oakland's Cultural Funding Program has also pitched in on the $80,000 currently secured toward a $350,000 fundraising goal.
"I want to work in the black, no deficit spending," Guidi says. With that caveat, he's looking further into the future. "Nutcracker" dates have been reserved at the Paramount for 2008. Guidi plans to program smaller March shows to begin rebuilding a subscription base. His most cherished goal is a 2009 festival marking the 100th anniversary of Serge Diaghilev's Ballets Russes, the groundbreaking company whose masterpieces Guidi so lovingly brought back to life.
Describing all this, his spirits are much brighter than just a few years ago when, he says, "I watched my life's work be dismantled before my eyes." He has no words of rancor for Karen Brown, the former Dance Theatre of Harlem ballerina who took the Oakland Ballet helm at a moment of financial precariousness and failed to form a fresh identity for the company.
"I knew this could happen if I retired," Guidi says, referring to Oakland Ballet's 2006 closure after a 40th anniversary comeback season fell $130,000 short of its ticket sales target. "They needed to bring someone out of the company to lead it. Without the emotional connection, it won't work." "
Click here for the full story.
With the 40th anniversary return of the Oakland Ballet imminent, I tried to reach a bit deeper into the company's history in my story for the SF Chronicle:
"In a converted warehouse near the port of Oakland, former Dance Theatre of Harlem ballerina Karen Brown sits regally atop her stool, long legs crossed, hair carried high like a crown.
She catches a dancer practicing an attitude turn. "Good Cindy, that's it." Phaedra Jarrett stands at a barre, rehearsing a routine to be performed for potential donors the next day. "Is that a single or a double pirouette?" Brown says with narrowed eyes and a pointed finger as Jarrett spins neatly once around.
"It'll be a single at 8 in the morning," Jarrett says.
"Oh, that's right."
The dancers and Brown laugh easily together in a studio filled with light and camaraderie. In any other ballet company the lack of tension would be impressive; at Oakland Ballet, it's astonishing. Because just a year ago, this spunky little troupe-that-could was a company in name only, with no dancers, no studio, no season to speak of.
The break came in April 2004, after a fall season in which Oakland Ballet canceled a program due to sagging ticket sales and lost $300,000 on its usual cash cow, "Nutcracker." Plans for the 2004 season were scrapped, dancers let go. The message was stark: Raise $500,000 within the next three months to stage a 40th anniversary season comeback in 2005 or close for good. The money came in a trickle of donations from ballet lovers and a flood rush of $200,000 from the William and Flora Hewlett Foundation. And now that 40th anniversary season, opening Oct. 14, is upon us.
"I'd never heard of a ballet company that didn't have dancers and didn't have performances," Brown says during rehearsal break, sitting on a brick wall at the dead-end of Linden Street as trains clang past. "It was one of the most difficult decisions I've ever made. But I was determined that this company was not going down on my watch."
Her eyes are focused, but her voice sounds weary, and no wonder: This 40th year season is shaping up to be a referendum on whether Oakland Ballet can rise again -- or even survive -- under Brown's directorship, which began in 2000. But lost in the debate over Brown's leadership style and programming choices is the fact that Oakland Ballet narrowly escaped oblivion many times before Brown took the helm. And obscured in the emergency campaign platitudes about the beauty of ballet and the importance of art in the community is the fact that Oakland Ballet was -- from the 1980s and through the '90s -- no small-town player, but an internationally acclaimed repository of rare and priceless classics."
About 500 words of the story were trimmed due to a space crunch, but I think the arc of the tale is more or less intact . . .
To read the full piece, click here.
October 01, 2005 · 01:09 PM · Dance · Comments (0)
