Feeling Lucky?

Whim W'Him dancers Justin Reiter, Lara Seefeldt and Jim Kent in Ihsan Rustem's "The Road to Here"
photo @ Bamberg Fine Art

Anytime you buy a ticket to a performance, it’s kind of a crap shoot, right?  You never really know what will happen, whether or not you’ll like the show, even if that show is something you see every year, like “Nutcracker.” 

That’s the joy of live performing arts.

It’s an even bigger gamble when, say, you decide to see new works by three choreographers you’ve never heard of. That was the case this past weekend at Whim W’Him’s “Choreographic Shindig.”

The seven company dancers, with a little guidance from Artistic Director Olivier Wevers, chose the three dance makers from more than 95 applicants. And the dances that showed up on the evening’s bill couldn’t have been more different.

Whim W'Him's Jim Kent, center, surrounded by Mia Monteabaro, Tory Peil and Lara Seefeldt
in Joshua Peugh's "Short Acts on the Heartstrings"
photo @ Bamberg Fine Art

Joshua Peugh’s show opener, “Short Acts on the Heartstrings” was a slight but engaging bit of whimsy. The rumination on love and relationships, set to a medley of mainly mid-20^th century pop ballads, was as light as the sea foam green chiffon dresses the three female dancers wore with their tan ankle socks. Light, sweet fun.

San Francisco-based choreographer Maurya Kerr’s offering, by contrast, was dark and brooding. Set on six of Whim W’Him’s seven dancers, “into the wide welcome” centered on a duet performed by Tory Peil and Kyle Johnson. Peil’s long, elegant limbs twitched and spasmed, a portrait of a creature who longs for human contact but whose body seemingly reacts against it. “wide welcome” had its moments, but in the end, it just felt a little murky.

Tori Peil and Kyle Johnson in "into the wide welcome" by Maurya Kerr
photo @ Bamberg Fine Art

The real highlight of “Choreographic Shindig,” the dance not to be missed, is Ihsan Rustem’s “The Road to Here.”

Lyrical and physically demanding at the same time, this short gem has it all: strong performances by the entire company, inventive choreography, a touch of humor, but most of all, “The Road to Here” has an emotional resonance that sits with you long after the lights come up and the audience files out.

Whim W'Him company members in Rustem's "The Road to Here"
photo @ Bamberg Fine Art

I know, I know, I’m gushing a little bit. But (bear with me), I was thinking about the tuning fork that my third-grade music teacher had. She’d tap it, the metal would vibrate and produce a set of harmonic tones, and then she’d bring that fork close to our 8-year old bodies. You could feel the sound inside you. That’s how Rustem’s dance affected me. I could feel what he had to say through the choreography he created.

Normally I find the insertion of text into a dance a little off-putting. Either it’s too obscure (or I’m too linear) to figure out why the text is there. Or else, it seems like the artist is trying to bludgeon me with a MESSAGE.

When a man starts speaking in the middle of the melodic score in Rustem’s dance, though, I was all ears. I can’t remember his exact words, but they melded seamlessly with the dancers’ movements. What that man had to say resonated with me the way Miss McNelly’s tuning fork did all those years ago.

Choreographer Ihsan Rustem in the studio with Whim W'Him dancers
photo @ Bamberg Fine Art

In an epigraph printed in the program, Rustem quotes Alan Watts. “Choice is the act of hestitation that we make before making a decision.” Leap into the unknown, take a risk, this dance shows us.

And that’s what we do every time we experience art. We buy our tickets hoping the investment will be worth it. In the case of Ishan Rustem’s “The Road to Here,” my gamble paid off big time.

You can catch Whim W’Him’s “Choreographic Shindig” Wednesday through Saturday, September 16-19, at the Erickson Theater on Capitol Hill in Seattle.

Guest choreographer Ihsan Rustem works with Whim W'Him

Olivier Wevers: Dance Is More Than A Whim

Whim W'Him dancers in rehearsal

Running a contemporary dance company is not for the faint of heart. 

Just ask Whim W’Him founder and Artistic Director Olivier Wevers.

The former Pacific Northwest Ballet principal dancer knew it would be a lot of work to have his own company. He resisted his friends’ lobbying for several years before making the transition from performer to choreographer/administrator. 

Six years after Whim W’Him’s debut, Wevers’ ruefully confesses he really had no idea what he was in for: choreography, along with everything from schmoozing with potential donors to designing costumes, to shopping for socks.

Choreographer Maurya Kerr working with Whim W'Him company members. Photo @ Bamberg Fine Art

These days Wevers runs his seven-member troupe with Executive Director Catherine Bombico at his side. Last year, for the first time, they were able to offer the dancers season contracts. Most contemporary dancers in Seattle move from job to job, choreographer to choreographer.

Whim W’Him company members are signed for a 31-week season for 2015-16; that’s second only to Pacific Northwest Ballet in terms of contract length.

For Wevers, this season contract provides reliability and familiarity. He doesn’t create all the company’s dances, but when he is in the midst of choreographing a new work, he says having a known group of dancers is like having a home base. He compares it to the way other artists work.

“When you’re a painter, you start with your own colors that you’ve used before. You know what to expect so you can already go further with your ideas,” he explains. Wevers knows what his dancers can handle; when to push and when to stop. He also trusts them enough to solicit their input. Hence, the latest addition to the Whim W'Him season: "Choreographic Shindig."

Choreographer Maurya Kerr working with Whim W'Him, @ Bamberg Fine Art

The upcoming two-weekend show is the first Whim W’Him production to be curated by the dancers rather than Wevers. “Choreographic Shindig” features three new dances, by Joshua Peugh of Texas, San Francisco-based choreographer Maurya Kerr, and Ihsan Rustem, an award-winning dance maker now based in Zurich, Switzerland.

Whim W'Him dancers in rehearsal for Choreographic Shindig, @ Bamberg Fine Art

“It was kind of a big step for me,”Wevers confesses. “In the beginning I did a lot of the choreography because I was cheap, I was free!” 

But he says he always intended to make Whim W’Him a platform for collaboration with a range of artists. So Wevers was thrilled to be able to put out a call for interested choreographers. More than 95 submissions came in, from all over the world. Wevers provided guidance, but he says the dancers chose these three distinctly different artists. That’s exactly what he hoped they’d do.

“We need to be an ambassador for contemporary dance,” Wevers stresses. “We need to align ourselves with the global perspective of what contemporary dance can be, and should be!”

Whim W'Him dancers in rehearsal @ Bamberg Fine Art

In addition to his work with Whim W'Him, Wevers travels a lot as a choreographer-for-hire. (His version of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” created for Grand Rapids Ballet, comes to Seattle in October). He also spends time in Monaco where his husband, the dancer Lucien Postelwaite, is based. Wevers sees a lot of different dance companies and dance styles. That’s part of what he wants to bring with him back to Seattle.

“It’s a big world, there’s a lot of things happening. There’s a lot of things I haven’t seen that I would love to see.” He sighs. “I’m trying to keep my vision really open, to what I can see, what I can encounter, and bring that to Seattle.”

Wevers also would love to find more opportunities for his dancers to tour regionally, but that's hard to balance with his desire to bring in more choreographers, and to provide season contracts for his dancers. At some point, the small but feisty company had to choose where to focus its energy; this year that choice was to add a third program to its performance schedule.

As Whim W’Him prepares to launch its 6^th season, Wevers reflects on his more than full-time job.

“I knew it was going to be a lot of work, but I didn’t know it was going to be that much work.” He pauses. “I’m just so naïve that I think oh, next year it’s going to be easier! No.” 

But he wouldn't have it any other way.

Whim W’Him’s “Choreographic Shindig” runs Friday September 11^th through Sunday the 13th and Wednesday September 16-Saturday the 19th at the Erickson Theatre on Seattle’s Capitol Hill. 

Ageless Ariana Lallone

Ariana Lallone at Teatro Zinzanni
photo by Michael Doucett, courtesy Teatro Zinzanni

She may kill me for revealing her age, but what the heck? 

Ariana Lallone is 47 years old, and she’s as striking and vibrant as she was the first time I saw her dance with Pacific Northwest Ballet 20 years ago.

Ariana Lallone in PNB production of Ulysses Dove's "Red Angels"
photo by Angela Sterling

If you’ve seen Ariana Lallone in performance, you know she’s unforgettable. She’s 5’11” in her stocking feet, 6’5” en pointe, with dark hair and a Roman nose. As Lady Capulet in Jean Christophe Maillot’s “Romeo et Juliette”, in Ulysses Dove’s “Red Angels”, or Nacho Duato’s “Jardi Tancat,” Lallone creates an unforgettable impression.

Ariana Lallone dances Nacho Duato at PNB
photo by Angela Sterling

Lallone left PNB four years ago. She wasn’t necessarily ready to stop dancing;

“I felt like as long as I was learning, wanting to change, wanting to improve, that I still had a desire to keep going.”

 But she and PNB Artistic Director Peter Boal didn't see eye to eye on when Lallone should actually leave the company. She wanted to stay longer; he didn't agree.

Lucky for her fans, Lallone had the world’s shortest jump from PNB to her next job at Seattle’s Teatro Zinzanni. Literally, she walked across the street and transformed herself from ballerina to cabaret performer.

Ariana Lallone soars above the Teatro Zinzanni crowd
photo by Michael Doucett

Lallone didn’t even apply for the gig. She’d heard that Zinzanni’s Associate Artistic Director, Reenie Duff, wanted to talk to her about an upcoming show, “Bonsoir Lilliane,” choreographed by Broadway great Tommy Tune.

She remembers how that conversation was initiated. Lallone was double parking on Mercer, just outside PNB. Duff turned up at her car, and invited the ballerina to talk. Several hours of yakking later, Lallone's second act was underway.

Teatro Zinzanni may be just across the street from McCaw Hall, where PNB performs, but the intimate velvet tent with its antique wooden floor and mirrored walls could be on another planet for all that these two performance venues resemble one another.

In McCaw Hall, PNB company members dance for up to 3,000 people. A large orchestra pit is located between the audience and the stage. If you have good seats down front, you can see the dancers’ faces. If not, well, opera glasses are always a good bet at McCaw.

In Zinzanni’s tent, Lallone finds herself on a 9 foot circular stage; she can look right into the eyes of the people who come to the dinner theater. And they can see her. She’s just inches away.

It was a challenge at first.

“I was a big mover,” she explains. “So you step out three feet from your center and it’s someone’s dinner table!”

But Lallone figured out how to use that proximity to good effect, how to make the eye contact and the intimate surroundings work for her.

And she learned that to use her ballet training in that small venue, she had to move her performance into another dimension: up into the air.

“I needed a new partner. And the new partner wouldn’t be a person, it would be a thing,” explains the dancer.

Specifically, a large metal hoop called a lyra. Lallone took aerial training lessons, and she performs regularly now up above the audience.

Ariana Lallone performs on the lyra at Teatro Zinzanni
photo by Michael Doucett

But Lallone isn’t part of the cast of this summer’s Zinzanni production, “The Return to Chaos.”  The show actually marks her first solo foray into choreography. It’s an artistic path that surprised her.

“Choreography was always something (to which) I said No!” she laughs. “I had so many ‘nos’. No I don’t do this, no I can’t do this, in my brain. And all of those ‘nos’ have gone away.”

The last four years have been a whirlwind for Ariana Lallone. She’s learned new skills, but most of all, she says she’s learned to say yes.

“I had a single focus in my career, which was ballet.” Lallone pauses to think. “Walking across the street to Zinzanni, my world just opened up sideways.”

But even though you can take the dancer out of the ballet company, you can’t remove decades of ballet from the dancer.

“I’ll always be a ballerina,” says Lallone firmly. “I may branch out, but that will always be my ‘being.’

Ariana Lallone onstage at Teatro Zinzanni
photo by Michael Doucett

 Teatro Zinzanni's "The Return to Chaos" is at the tent on lower Queen Anne Hill through mid-September.

"Mouth to Mouth" Resuscitation!

Ate9 dancers in Danielle Agami's "Mouth to Mouth"
photo by Tim Summers

I was cranky last Friday evening.

I’d had a long and difficult work week. I didn’t want to use my brain. And I was inching south on I-5 to a dance performance for which I had absolutely no expectations.

As I said, cranky.

But I have to say, two hours later, I was soaring, electrified, and incredibly pleased that I’d ignored my inner grump and headed to see Danielle Agami’s “Mouth to Mouth” at Velocity Dance Center.

The Israeli-born dancer/choreographer originally founded her company, Ate9, in Seattle. But she relocated to Los Angeles before I ever got a chance to see her work. So what unfolded last Friday was surprising, amazing, and ultimately, a welcome gift.

The dancers entered the theater one by one, each carrying a chair that he or she set down on the floor’s perimeter before taking a seat. Quietly, they surveyed each other. I still had no idea what I was in for, the energy they’d unleash like a volcanic eruption.

Ate9 dancers in "Mouth to Mouth"
photo by Tim Summers

Action began slowly, as a dancer in a short blue dress rose up from her chair. A fellow dancer approached, pulled out a scissors, and sheared off a blue sleeve. Another dancer scissored up the dress from the bottom. Hmm.

Blue dress was an outcast; she tried to wedge herself between two other women, like an eager preschooler on the playground. Their rejection didn’t phase her. In fact, this scene was like a long fuse. Eventually, it ignited an explosion of movement.

Ate9 Dancer in "Mouth to Mouth"
photo by Scott Simock, courtesy Velocity Dance Center

The Ate9 dancers twitched and vibrated in a sort of stage version of the robot. They leaped straight up off the floor as if it was a sprung trampoline. They used every part of their bodies, from splayed toes to twisted facial features.  At one point, the most elegant David Maurice vainly attempts to stop the madness, clutching at the heads of three seated women. He’s powerless to stem this river.

David Maurice tries to soothe the savage breast in "Mouth to Mouth"
photo courtesy Velocity Dance Center

All eight dancers were fearless. They bounded across the stage, landing in a beat on the floor in splits, or supine, only to launch themselves straight up to standing with what seemed like just a push from their toes. One woman crabwalked across the floor…in a backbend! At this point I scrawled in my notebook, ‘can humans actually do this stuff?’

It wasn’t just the ferocity that had me smiling. Agami’s movement vocabulary, based on Ohad Naharin’s Gaga technique, requires precision and prowess. Every movement undulates out from the dancer’s core; those dancers must commit fully to what they are doing, to give themselves completely to the performance. And it’s their commitment, along with the technique, that engages the audience.

Ate9's David Maurice shows he is part gazelle
photo by Tim Summers

Agami uses the dancers’ technical skills to great effect. She marshals her company members into complex patterns, like shifting electrons that seem to draw energy from each other. Sometimes the patterns were fugue-like; dancers performing sequences of movements in staggered groups. Other times, two or three dancers performed in unison. Particular standouts for me (in addition to Agami in black leather shorts, only the nipples of her breasts covered with black tape) were super-human Thibaut Eiferman, and the incredibly long and graceful Micaela Taylor.

Danielle Agami in her creation "Mouth to Mouth"
photo by Scott Simock

Even as this dance was unfolding, I wanted to see it again. And again. “Mouth to Mouth” is complex; I’m not sure of everything I saw. But I do know that when the dance ended,  I was slack jawed with awe and appreciation for the bravado, the spirit, the prowess that Ate9 brought to Velocity. I’m still thinking of this dance, three days later.

And I’m kinda wondering if Danielle Agami knew that her creation was a bit of mouth to mouth resuscitation for my crabby Friday soul?

Carla

PNB Principal Dancer Carla Korbes takes her final bow
photo by Angela Sterling

In the end, after the last flower petals sifted down onto the stage, after the last curtain call and the last applause faded, it was almost as if Carla Korbes’ fabulous ten years at Pacific Northwest Ballet floated off like an opalescent bubble, a beautiful dream.

Lucky for us, this decade in Seattle was very much a reality.

Her final performance was a gift, a reminder of all that Korbes (and her fellow dancers) have to share with us.

PNB’s 2015 Encore was magic from the get-go, with the local premiere of former company member Andrew Bartee’s stunning dance/film creation “Dirty Goods,” a commission from the Wolf Trap Foundation for the Performing Arts. Quirky, contemporary, energetic and fun, it is Bartee’s finest work to date.

Carla Korbes in Jessica Lang's "The Calling"
photo by Angela Sterling

But the evening’s tone was set definitively when the curtain rose on “The Calling,” a solo dance by choreographer Jessica Lang. The lights came up on Korbes, in a cream-colored gown with a massive skirt, arrayed center stage like a perfect marble sculpture.

Everybody gasped.

As mezzo-soprano Sarra Sharif began to sing, Korbes’ sculpture came to life. She undulated her torso and her arms around that immovable gown, and wove her graceful spell on us.

The spell remained unbroken through the rest of the evening; through a reprise of William Forsythe’s “The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude;” through Kiyon Gaines’ poignant performance in the pas de deux from Nacho Duato’s “Rassemblement.” (Gaines was also saying farewell to his dancing career. This was an all-too-brief opportunity to watch him, with fellow soloist Elizabeth Murphy, in a hearbreaking dance of love and longing.) 

PNB soloists Elizabeth Murphy and Kiyon Gaines in Nacho Duato's "Rassemblement"
photo by Angela Sterling

And through George Balanchine's "Jewels."

The evening was structured around Carla Korbes, but Encore 2015 was also a farewell to corps de ballet members Eric Hippolito, Jahna Frantziskonis, Charles McCall and Raphael Bouchard; in his curtain speech, PNB Artistic Director Peter Boal called the diminutive Frantziskonis a combination of Audrey Hepburn and Tinker Bell. Indeed. The dancer wowed the audience with Benjamin Griffiths in the pas de deux from George Balanchine’s “Rubies.”

The bittersweet evening could have ended with Korbes and Karel Cruz in the glorious pas de deux from Balanchine’s “Diamonds.” The two dancers shimmered like their namesake gems. When Cruz lifted Korbes into the air, she hovered as light as a feather before mortality prevailed and she drifted like a snowflake to the stage. The duet was exquisite, and it might have been an adequate goodbye.

PNB Principal Dancers Karel Cruz and Carla Korbes in Balanchine's "Diamonds"
photo by Angela Sterling

But PNB saved the best for last.

After a short intermission, Encore 2015 brought us a profoundly lovely, and profoundly moving performance of Balanchine’s “Serenade.”

PNB's Carla Korbes, center, with fellow company members in Balanchine's "Serenade"
photo by Angela Sterling

I love “Serenade;” the way it begins with the 17 women arrayed in staggered rows, looking off into some amorphous distance, their right arms raised in a wistful salute. The way the man, Batkhurel Bold in this case, enters with his eyes covered by the woman, Lesley Rausch. The way Korbes rips out her hairpins after the sprightly first movement of Tchaikovsky’s “Serenade in C for string orchestra.”

I was excited for the chance to see the dance again.  But as the lights came up on the 17 women in their sky blue tulle skirts and bodices, I couldn’t help but think what a remarkably generous choice this was for Korbes’ final dance with PNB.

While Korbes did perform the central role, she shared the stage with fellow principal dancers Carrie Imler and Lesley Rausch, along with Batkhurel Bold and Karel Cruz, as well as with 21 fellow company members. Each had her/his moment at center stage. Each was beautiful.

PNB Principal Dancers Lesley Rausch, Batkhurel Bold and Carla Korbes in Balanchine's "Serenade"
photo by Angela Sterling

In the end, though, the night belonged to Carla Korbes. She glowed from within. The audience witnessed a woman who was truly one with the dance. It’s something we have come to expect from this ballerina. But on this particular evening, Korbes gifted her own artistry to every dancer on stage with her, and to the thousands of us who watched her perform.

Korbes doesn’t count the beats in the music. She feels them. She doesn’t simply perform the steps. She inhabits them. And, on this magic occasion, her fellow dancers seemed to follow her example.

For one last, enchanted evening, we held our collective breath throughout, mesermized, until Steven Loch, Price Suddarth and Dylan Wald lifted Korbes up above their shoulders and slowly walked her to the rear of the stage. Korbes' blue tulle skirt caught the breeze, as bewitched as those of us who soaked in the final notes, the final steps, the final PNB appearance of this wonderful artist.

Patterns

Pacific Northwest Ballet Principal Dancer Carrie Imler in
Alexei Ratmansky's "Concerto DSCH"
photo by Angela Sterling

What do you think about when you watch a dance performance?

What catches your interest?

I contemplated those questions this past weekend after I saw  Pacific Northwest Ballet’s production of Alexei Ratmansky’s “Concerto DSCH” one night, and the following evening, Whim W’him’s presentation of a new work by French choreographer Manuel Vignoulle, called “RIPple efFECT.”
These dances were on the bills of larger programs, but I single them out because they prompted me to think about patterns, and nuance, and most of all, the complex marshalling of bodies in space.

Oh, and they both featured bravura performances from excellent dancers.

PNB Principal Dancers Jerome Tisserand and Carrie Imler in Ratmansky's "Concerto DSCH"
photo by Angela Sterling

Ratmansky’s “Concerto DSCH” isn’t new to PNB’s repertoire; the company first presented it in 2011. I don’t remember loving it then. Certainly not as much as I loved it this time around.
Set to Shostakovich’s Concerto No. 2 in F. major, (wonderfully performed by the PNB orchestra with pianist Christina Siemens), “Concerto DSCH” is crafted in three parts: sprightly opening and closing sections sandwich a wonderfully tender pas de deux, performed by the most excellent Karel Cruz and Carla Korbes.

“Concerto DSCH” is a big work, with a bevy of dancers. Carrie Imler, Jerome Tisserand and Seth Orza, a sassy trio in blue, threw out wickedly challenging leaps and spins like they were the easiest moves. And they punctuated their technical competence with so much fun; playful jabs and sideways glances at one another.

PNB company members in Ratmansky's "Concerto DSCH"
photo by Angela Sterling

It was bittersweet to watch departing corps members Raphael Bouchard, Eric Hipolito and Jahna Frantzikonis, as well as retiring soloist Kiyon Gaines, dancing their hearts out with fellow company members. They were all crisp and clean, and they made Ratmansky’s complicated fugue of a dance clear and accessible.

Korbes and Cruz were a dream; in contrast with the other two movements of this Concerto, their duet is inward focused and contemplative-they danced a couple saying a tender goodbye to one another. But it felt as if they were also dancing their offstage emotions; Korbes was giving one of her last PNB performances with her regular partner Cruz. It was exquisite both technically and emotionally.

PNB Principal Dancers Carla Korbes and Karel Cruz in Ratmansky's "Concerto DSCH"
photo by Angela Sterling

Aside from fine performances, “Concerto DSCH” provided a great chance to appreciate how a choreographer deploys dancers in the service of a piece of music. Or perhaps, the dance and the music were mutually dependent, and seen and heard together, they are more than the sume of their parts.

Ratmansky used Shostakovich’s intricate composition as inspiration for an intricate ballet; at points, you have to choose which dancers to watch-the trio stage left, or Carrie Imler, who is teasing us with saucy sautes.

Never too many photos of PNB's Carrie Imler
this one, again, by Angela Sterling

Manuel Vignoulle’s “RIPple efFECT” doesn’t bear a lot of technical or emotional resemblance to Ratmansky’s work. But I couldn’t help comparing its interlocking sections, the variations in partnering in his work to “Concerto DSCH.”

Vignoulle set “RIPple…” on Whim W’him’s seven company members, and they blast out of the gate from the get-go, Tory Peil twitching and vibrating at such frequency you fear she might implode on the stage. She doesn’t. Vignoulle pairs her with Whim W’him’s newest dancer, the fantastic Justin Reiter, in a duet that displays both their discipline and virtuosity, as well as Peil’s amazing strength. Loved it when she lifts Reiter and spins him around.

Whim W'him in Manuel Vignoulle's "RIPple efFECT"
photo courtesy Bamberg Fine Art

“RIPple efFECT” is high-energy, a continuous swirl of acrobatic action. There are also moments of rest (luckily for the dancers), and quieter contemplation. In the second section, for example, all seven dancers join hands in a circle, then move in and out, up and down, reminiscent of a sea anemone that pulses with the tide.

Whim W'him company members in Vingoulle's "RIPple efFECT"
photo by Bamberg Fine Art

Whim W’him Artistic Director Olivier Wevers has made it standard practice to include other choreographers on his programs. Manuel Vignoulle’s work was new for me, and a welcome chance to revel in his artistic vision. So, thanks for that Olivier.

I see a lot of different kinds of dance. And I never know how what I see will touch me, how it will move me. I do know that last weekend’s two very different dance programs fed my mind and my spirit.

And I’m still thinking about those patterns…