January 9, 2009...5:57 am

Trajal Harrell, Showpony

Jump to Comments

Showpony conceptualizes the possible glamour and romance of contemporary dance as a lifestyle and livelihood into a performance where the lines between dancers, audience, and community are blurred and constantly reconfigured by a shifting production of values – visibility/invisibility, recognition/non-recognition, attention/inattention.

(Taken from the program notes)

Showpony was not as biting or spectacular as I had imagined it to be, but the piece, I realize, is less about dance performance and more about a choreographer in a struggle for meaning, which in retrospect left quite an impression on me. Harrell brings into question (though at times not very acutely) those aspects of contemporary dance and artistic creation that suck (for lack of a better word): competition and evaluation, production and distribution. Indeed, why should artistic expression be competitive? (Think of a dance audition) What meaning is lost in the burdensome production of a work? Why do I choose to be a part of performing culture?

“Is it worth it?” Harrell seems to ask, with a photo slide show that stirs up both nostalgia and melancholy: pictures of smiling friends from the ImPulsTanz festival in Vienna are followed by numerous shots of lonely bedrooms -empty, foreign beds that are all too familiar to any dance artist that has toured. Some of the choreographers pictured in the slide show were interestingly sitting in the audience Thursday night, including Ralph Lemon and Jennifer Monson. Other photos included candid shots of Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker, Jan Fabre, and Rachid Ouramdane. It was a “who’s who” in the dance community indeed, and I wasn’t exactly sure if the trip down memory lane had a critical undertone: Does he acknowledge that not all audience members would recognize these figures? Or did he make the piece specifically for dance community, who would be more likely to empathize with him? Is this the recognition/non-recognition he speaks of?

The fashion runway seating was useful, and in this configuration Harrell does manage to blur the boundaries of performer/audience. However, the performance itself needed more decisiveness and direction, and seemed to wander away from its runway/vogueing aim to “excite and please the audience through a ‘showdown’ of seductive competition as performativity in the theater of the aesthetics of cool.” This is a lot of wording for the little output that there was, however ironic his interpretation meant to be. But regardless of a critical opinion, my viewing of this piece was drenched in sympathy. The lack-luster, difficult-to-sustain dance career is just too familiar: Whom am I doing this for? What am I trying to perform? Why do we make a show?

8 Comments

  • As a dance outsider, I’m not inclined to offer a critical viewpoint on the choreography (although movement seemed to be a too-limited proportion of this multimedia show) but did find myself thinking about the objectification and sale of bodies. I’d think that any piece that opens with the choreographer deliberately sitting in the laps of each member of the audience intends to say something about intimacy. But then the images projected onto a screen of Richard Gere in American Gigolo picking out clothes made me wonder if Harrell’s concern was less the innocent variety of intimacy and more the kind that is traded and bartered, possibly even suggesting that dance is akin to hustling. This critique of dance seemed to be reinforced by the three dancers’ movement styles, which at various times recalled images of the model’s catwalk or the gymnast’s balance beam leaving me wondering what Harrell meant to say about dance in light of these industries that notoriously objectify, abuse, and use up women’s (and men’s) bodies. The closing of the show with an overly long slideshow of photos of smiling dancers and choreographers — some with captions others without, most clothed but a few others nude (with one showering man who was graphically hung but innocently flaccid) — seemed such a contrast to the rest of the performance that I wondered if Harrell’s intention was really to critique the industry of dance or rather challenge our assumptions of the innocent versus illicit. In all likelihood Harrell intended all of those things, but over the course of 70 slow-moving minutes I suppose I’d expect to not be left wondering…

  • Bambi, you are my light and my all. You should replace the chief dance critic at the Times.
    ;-)

  • So I continue to be awake this evening and have taken some time to glance over various posts. Besides Nijinsky, this post caught my attention.
    I did not see this performance; I don’t feel as if I can comment on it directly. But there are ideas that have come to the table that carry some interest to me.

    I am currently participating in a course with Ann Hamilton and Michael Mercil entitled “The Embodied Knowledge Ensemble and Volunteer Corps”. One of the primary concerns this course is exploring in the nature of art as commodity and art as gift. What are the intrinsic modes of exchange within a given work of art? Does money control art? Does money control artists? Most of the students in this course are MFA candidates from the visual art sector; only two of us come from a dance paradigm. And these questions hold a certain poignancy within the context of dance, because dance is less about object than action or experience, and if there is an object, it is the body, the human body, the human being. Dance in a marketplace economy seems to reside in an interesting gradient: Bambi is right, there is prostitution at one end, and dance somewhere before it. When dance is sold and bought, what is it that is being exchanged? In my mind, as a dance artist, it is less about an object and more about an experience. An experience with a body, a human body, a human being (dancer, choreographer, the choreography as a negotiation between the two). The similarity between dance and prostitution seems to be the sale/purchase of an experience with a body/person(s), the difference being the gradient of intimacy. It’s provocative, and asks for consideration.
    Admittedly, even when what is being sold is this inter-personal-corporeal experience, what is being purchased may be something otherwise (the notoriety of the choreography, the cultural status of one who supports dance arts, a shared experience with a friend, date, or love (it could just as easily be a film or some other sort of ‘shared experience’), to name a few). but how do we feel about ourselves as dance artists, about what we do, and the economy in which we participate, submitting our art form/ourselves for sale? Who are we doing this for? Why do we make a show? Our familiar questions.

    A choreographer friend of mine has recently begun to explore the idea of ‘dance as gift’, literally composing dances for specific individuals or groups of individuals, to be given as a gift, without fee, stepping outside of the marketplace economy. I wonder how this might effect dynamics/concerns such as fame, recognition, visibility, competition, etc.

    This does seem to lead to an entire other sphere of thought, concerning the “gift economy” and its native implications, that however distinct from a market economy, are still present and potentially exacerbating, implications such as obligation, reciprocation, possession, repossession, etc. etc.

    I also think an interesting question that has surfaced several times is the question of for whom is the work intended? In this original piece that you described, you questioned who might more readily empathize with the artist’s content, those within the dance community or outside of it. Is it possible to provoke empathy from multiple populations in differing manners and degrees? Certainly. Is it admirable to create work that finds resonance within culture and society at large? Potentially. Is it also acceptable to create work that only finds significant resonance within the dance community? I think so. Wherever there is interpersonal understanding, recognition, connection, I think there may be something of (immense) value. Even if that is only within a dance community, I see it as valuable. And whether it is directly or indirectly, my internal optimist tends to believe that even if that resonance only begins within a limited sub-set of society, all things/people/societies are connected and affect one another; an artistic work that finds direct resonance in a limited part cannot help but find some indirect resonance in the whole.

    That may be all I can offer on these subjects tonight. Thanks for sharing/sparking these ideas. I appreciate having these indirect accesses to work that I cannot witness first-hand. Maybe this is a prime example of the potential for indirect social resonance, a chain of something like “the performance-your perceptions-your thoughts-your blog-comments-more comments-dialogue-etc.”

    -M

  • Hi Michael!

    It was nice to meet you and thanks for sharing your thoughts here! Your class sounds very interesting. I saw a performance by Ann Hamilton and Meredith Monk in 2002, Mercy, which was absolutely amazing.

    I think that it is pretty difficult to think of dance as a commodity-driven art form, since not much is actually sold beyond admission tickets (the dances themselves aren’t necessarily sold), but there is a definite relevance to how money affects creation and production. And in my opinion it’s not that there is a sale of bodies, but rather the presentation and engagement of bodies– bodies that hold lived experiences, emotions, etc. Also, bodies/beings that choose to be a part of the work.

    Personally, I don’t liken my unpleasant experiences in dance to prostitution as much as I do to masochism, considering the voluntary nature of the work, how hard we work, and how little [material] compensation we get in return. This, of course, is not the case for everyone. (“We do it because we love it”)

    The idea of giving a dance as a gift is interesting, but my mind comes to a standstill when I try to think of actually doing it, probably because I am so ingrained with the idea of a dance being a labor-intensive process that requires time, energy and resources. In a way, it’s kind of a “pro bono” idea for dance, and I could see it happening for friends and peers, but probably not for just anyone. But then one would have to specify the nature of the “gift”; a set choreography would be a labor-intensive gift whereas an improvisation would be much easier to do or “give”.

    And yes, the intended audience of Harrell’s piece is irrelevant, since as you say, one doesn’t need to be a part of a group to empathize; in an interview Harrell admitted he is very sentimental, and a photo slide show to music from his favorite choreographies is successful in its formula, if not in its recognition.

    You sound like you’re studying some really great topics, and this is good to know as a prospective student! I still have some auditions and decision-making to do, but I’m very glad to have met everyone and to have seen and heard what’s going on.

    Stay in touch!
    Peter

  • I am taking a break from reading an essay by Mary Jane Jacob called “Reciprocal Generosity” discussion the potential implications of gift. It made me think of this discussion, so I thought I would take the time to come back to it.

    It was nice to meet you as well. Whatever the results of your auditions and decision-making, I feel it was fortuitous that I met you, and hope to stay in touch. Three or four people this weekend told me, “You have to meet Peter,” and I regretted that the time was so short. I hope these online spaces can serve to deepen that meeting.

    I haven’t seen Monk/Hamilton’s “Mercy,” but the music from it has potentially been the most affecting of my life. I am envious that you saw it.

    I completely agree that defining dance as commodity-driven. It is so much more elusive than in a field such as painting, sculpture, writing, etc., there is no clear object being bought or sold (except perhaps the possibility of the body as I have entertained, or something like the “choreographic object,” which can be even more elusive). And yet as you say, there is the selling and buying of tickets. I think my interest in this question would be something like what the ticket represents, what admission means to the artist and the audience, how it is the same, how it is different, and what meaning or value it holds for each. I also agree with your opinion that it is not as clear/simple as bodies/beings for sale. Instead, it may be (and may not be) an experience with those bodies/beings, the visual/aesthetic/kinesthetic/emotional/etc. experience of the work of the dancers and the choreographer, that is being sold and bought. I am curious if there is any connotation to that exchange, that economy of shared experience. And briefly again entertaining the concept of “dance as gift,” I am curious how that exchange is thought of and experienced when there is or is not a price tag involved.

    I think you are definitely onto something with the notion of voluntary nature of participation in dance. Although I would for the most part consider prostitution to be of a voluntary nature, the distinction comes in the degree. For the sake of clarity, I try to discuss this (possible) relationship between dance and prostitution with as little negative connotation as possible. Certainly the whole industry carries with it a potential odor of horror and atrocity, but in this more abstract discussion (admittedly removed from the realities of society), I think I am trying to examine these exchanges in a more neutral objectivity (I may or may not succeed in this).

    Forgive my comments for tending to meander into completely new “posts,” but another idea strikes me. At the Paris Opera during the 1800s, the Foyer de la Danse became the site of sexual assignations between ballerinas and elite members of the Opera’s subscribing (male) patrons. Because dancing in the corps de ballet could not be one’s sole income, and because during this period ballet was a nearly exclusively female field, and because women had so few opportunities when it came to gainful employment, prostitution became a secondary income for many who danced as a profession. In this case, the ballet literally did become the “window display” for this backstage industry. Although this seems an extreme example from the distant past, it did occur to me as potentially relevant in this discussion of what indeed is being sold and bought, what is inferred in “admission,” etc.

    The discussion of the intrinsic masochism in dance is also a worthy parallel/dovetailing discussion. I have long considered the self-inflicted hardships native to this field . . . but I think that is a discussion best served in another day, another post, another discussion thread.

    Again, thanks for having this space for these discussions. I hope this continues as I would love to know more of your thoughts.
    Best of luck in your other auditions and the decisions to be made. I’m sure you had more than enough opportunity to ask questions, receive perspectives on things at the audition, but if you have lingering inquiries, I would be more than happy to talk on those subjects as well.

    I should get back to my other reading, other ideas.
    Thanks again,
    -M

  • Hi all,

    I made an interview with Trajal during the imPULStanz 2008 about his subversive architecture in his dance.
    listen to it at
    http://www.ar2com.de/radiofavela-blog/the-architecture-dance-subversive/

    enjoy


Leave a Reply