Summertime
"Head in the Sand" "Something About A Nightingale" "Giant"
ODC Dance
B Way Theater
San Francisco, CA
July 20, 2018
No question ODC Dance has survived for 47 years with the same three women’s leadership because of their artistic talents and clear vision of the way they see themselves within the ecosystem of local and national dance. One of the smartest events they started over a decade ago is Summer Sampler, two weekends with two different hour-long programs of (mostly) previously seen work, first performed at ODC’s Downtown season at the 755 proscenium YBCA Theater. In the summer, selected works can be presented at the 212-seat home B Way venue in the City’s Mission district.
For some audience members it’s an opportunity to re-encounter works. The intimacy of the space allows for all kinds of discoveries in both dancers and choreographies. This can be pure pleasure. For others the experience is new; neither of my seat companions had ever seen the company. The theater was packed to the rafters. One can only hope that these superb dancers were as satisfied with performing in this space as the audience clearly enjoyed watching them.
The triple bill opened with Kimi Okada’s mostly somber, new to me, “Head in the Sand” (2017) to the intricate beats of So Percussion/Brian Eno. Apparently the dance is inspired by having to cope with misfortune. Okada made good use of what four dancers offer: ever-reconceived unisons, parallel and different duets that morph into solos or uneven groups. A quartet is just about what the eye can keep in focus at one time, both formally and emotionally.
Though without a narrative, the four dancers (Natasha Adorlee Johnson, Jeremy Bannon-Neches, Tegan Schwab and Daniel Santos) each seemed to have an individual burden. Bannon-Neches leaned over to the side, a tree about to fall; Adorlee Johnson forced her body to whip itself into spinning tops; Santos fell like a rock, and Schwab was rooted like Lot’s wife. Dragging themselves with heavy feet, stopping and going, the four dancers looked like half-dead travelers who had lost their way in the desert. The synchronized walking patterns finally dissolved into falling, sinking, melting, helplessly twitching on hostile ground.
“Head” offered glimpses of reprieve as the dancers held, curled and lifted each other, maybe dragged companions and rolled them along the floor. But these gestures didn’t seem personally committed, done almost in desperation. The still high-flying Santos left the stage at one point and almost shyly returned to the fold where he was heartily hugged by Adorlee-Johnson. (You couldn’t miss a biographic moment). When Schwab dropped one more time, Adorlee Johnson poked her, and the two of them headed off arm-in-arm for the open door upstage. The men then crawled after them towards the light; it was almost too good to be true in this melancholic and finely crafted work.
For a delightful romp, Brenda Way had set her witty “Something About a Nightingale” (2005) to lilting tunes and beats by the Tin Hat Trio. The unusually playful opening still looked a like a tribute to ODC’s men: Freeman, Bannon-Neches, Santos and new dancer James Gilmer. The section flowed with an easy grace during which the men’s almost accidental gestures spooled off into ever surprising moments. I kept thinking of a pastoral’s elegance and sense of leisure.
With Lani Yamanaka and Schwabe, dressed in a mix of a tutu and a Folie Bergere pouf, the scene became a bubbly courting game. The two women played the guys with dainty kicks, scurrying toes and enticingly shaking tops. Turning conventions inside out, the ballerinas held all the cards. But then in flew the outsider — Santos who was as comfortable in both the men’s and women’s language, and all was well for all concerned. Yamanaka’s joyful embracing of her role put an infectious smile on her face that she couldn’t have wiped off if she had tried. The opening trio was particularly fine and easily could stand on its own.
The reprise of Kate Weare’s slippery “Giants,” (2016), remounted by KT Nelscon in which the nine dancers interact as individuals and also become depersonalized carriers of “meaning,” remains a fascinating though puzzling attempt to delineate images precisely, and yet have them slip away before you catch them. And yet throughout you could sense Weare's assertive grip of the material. Still the half-hour piece was so choke-full of simultaneous and constantly splattering parts that more time, this giant escaped my grasp.
“Giants” apparently refers to concepts of heroism. Smith and Schwab do walk through an open door quite ceremoniously only to split apart when the other seven dancers stream in from all sides. In a later encounter the two of almost became embodied passions that however, immediately evaporated.
The end of “Giants” had Smith be ceremoniously carried out by his colleagues. An appropriate ending — after eleven years with ODC Dance, Smith retired.
copyright © 2018 by Rita Felciano
