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A Somber Celebration

80th Anniversary Gala Evening
Martha Graham Dance Company
Skirball Center, New York University
New York City
April 18, 2006

by Susan Reiter

copyright ©2006, Susan Reiter

 

Exactly 80 years to the day after Martha Graham made her first mark as a choreographer with a program of 18 works at the 48th Street Theater, her company presented a gala that, in the space of less than two hours, was intended to serve multiple purposes. It was an anniversary celebration, of course, but it was also an all-important fundraising gala, given the $4 million debt identified in recent articles about the company. It was also a barometer of where the company stands artistically, since this was its first New York performance since last spring’s generous, acclaimed two-week season at City Center and a subsequent change in artistic leadership.

That 2005 season featured an extensive repertory of Graham landmarks, performed with their full design elements and accompanied by a live orchestra. As powerful a statement as it was — confirming the company’s survival and full re-emergence following the turmoil of the extended lawsuit over the rights to Graham’s work — the season, like any self-produced City Center season, was a money-losing proposition. Shortly after its conclusion came the surprising news that co-artistic directors Terese Capucilli and Christine Dakin were no longer in charge, and were replaced by Janet Eilber, another former Graham dancer whose connection with the troupe dated back to the 1970s.

Efficiently organized and presented, this gala offered a rapid-paced tour through the full chronological range of Graham’s output. It included “Three Gopi Maidens,” one of the works on the historic 1926 program, and concluded with Graham’s final work, the 1990 “Maple Leaf Rag.” With some still photos and video clips providing context, the actress Judith Ivey and choreographer/Graham impersonator Richard Move formed a tag-team as narrator/guides through the evening, which was thorough and even-handed, yet at the same time overly neat and schematic. It touched a lot of bases, covered a lot of ground, yet only hinted at the full scale of Graham’s impact. While the early solos did not require any compromise in their staging, when it came to the powerful middle-period Graham works, the evening relied on excerpts, presented without the all-important scenery.

Longtime Graham board chairman (and dignified survivor of the debilitating legal battles) Francis Mason launched the evening with an upbeat introduction, mentioning that over the years the company has toured to 50 countries and looking forward to all-important touring engagements for the near future. He invited former company members in attendance to stand, and the house lights revealed quite a few of them scattered throughout the theater. Mason then ceded the stage to a bespectacled, dapper Mikhail Baryshnikov, who pointed out that while Graham was known to say she wanted to be remembered as a dancer, this evening would remember and celebrate her as a choreographer.

He brought on Ivey, who launched the evening on its chronological journey, beginning with a nod to Graham’s Denishawn roots — performances of Ruth St. Denis’ 1906 solo “The Incense” and Ted Shawn’s 1919 “Gnossienne.” Each gave a basic sense of the essence of these pivotal Graham influences: St. Denis’ lush exoticism, Shawn’s exploration of masculine vigor and athleticism. Heidi Stoeckley Nogoy’s performance of the former emphasized glamour over reverence, and did not fully convey its mystical touch of the dancers’ arms becoming one with the rising smoke. Tadej Brdnik overemphasized the stiff angularity of Shawn’s Satie solo, which admittedly has a dated, almost comical look to contemporary eyes. The dynamic Blakeley White-McGuire closed out the Denishawn section with a vibrant performance of Shawn’s 1916 “Serenata Morisca” — a solo Graham performed often with Denishawn and on the commercial stage — that was both seductive and taunting.

No staging credit was given for the 1926 “Three Gopi Maidens,” which transitioned from an uncredited film excerpt from the longer work “The Flute of Krishna” to the live female trio swathed in exotic quasi-Indian saris, observed and admired by Lloyd Knight in harem pants. Graham’s fascination with — and inventive use of — fabric was already in evidence here, as the women removed and rearranged parts of their costumes.

“In many ways, I lived onstage what many people came to the theater to avoid,” Ivey quoted Graham as saying, as the program moved into the heart of Graham’s truly revolutionary repertory. Certain the profound emotions — terror, doubt, shame and so much more — that she conjured in her terse, abstract early works are present in the 1929 “Heretic,” which received a riveting, unsparing performance by Elizabeth Auclair with members of the Martha Graham Ensemble. Seen on this smaller stage, in relatively intimate quarters, its confrontation between a trusting, vulnerable solo figure and an implacable, determined ensemble resonated with its full quota of tension and eloquence. Any choreographer working today can take a lesson from its conciseness and the way it uses form to generate emotional power.

Katherine Crockett resembled a Brancusi sculpture as she communicated the essence of “Lamentation” (1930), embodying grief and ultimately disappearing as her sorrow enveloped her. The wit and zesty energy of “Satyric Festival Song” (1932) — so powerfully performed by Fang-Yi Sheu last year — were nowhere to be found in Erica Dankmeyer’s slack, unfocused performance. But “Steps in the Street,” with Carrie Ellmore-Tallitsch leading the ensemble, made up of senior company members on this occasion, was a searing as ever, even accompanied by a piano reduction of the powerful Wallingford Riegger score. (Patrick Daugherty was the pianist for all this first segment of the program, titled “Prelude and Revolt”; the company clearly decided that scaled-down live music was preferable than taped accompaniment, and this added an important to the program.)

Humor entered the evening with part of the witty Robert Alton number “Choreography” from the film “White Christmas,” in which a slinky, black-clad Danny Kaye and six women in imitation-Graham long dresses dance in what is clearly a parody of Graham’s style. Ivey introduced its as evidence that Graham’s work was making an impact on the larger culture, having been deemed worthy of such as take-off in a major motion picture. Once the screen was pulled up, Richard Move, accompanied by a bit of “Appalachian Spring,” strode on in his full Graham regalia — tightly pinned black bun, a sweeping shiny cape. He blended his gentle mockery of Graham’s speech and persona the task of introducing a series of excerpts, which offered sketchy hints of what the complete dances offer. To those familiar with the full works — presumably most of the audience — they could serve as an appetizer standing in for the full meal, but these were outlines rather than full performances.

The sequence from “El Penitente” in which “Mary as Virgin/Magdalen/Mother” is clearly in her Magdalen guise as she taunts the Penitent with an apple was mined for all its expression of female sexual potency by Alessandra Prosperi, with David Zurak. We got what amounted to a Reader’s Digest sampling of “Appalachian Spring,” with all the characters except for the Pioneering Woman included. Within this limited context, Miki Orihara captured the essence of the Bride with simplicity and gravitas, and Mauricio Nardi was a forceful, dangerous Revivalist. “Dark Meadow” was represented by a six-member ensemble section that felt unmoored.

Fang-Yi Sheu, the most complete and dynamic Graham interpreter of the present company, finally took the stage in Cassandra’s solo form “Clytemnestra.” Fierce, possessed, haunted by her vision of what she foresees, she commanded the stage with demonic intensity as she stalked through with a staff and carved through space, thrusting her limbs through contorted shapes that bespoke her dire forewarnings. One wished she had appeared earlier in the program, lending her authenticity of interpretation to one of the earlier works as well.

A duet excerpted from Graham’s 1965 “Part Real — Part Dream” was the gala’s novelty. The work, in which Graham did not have a role, has only been revived once since its premiere and this segment was reconstructed by Kenneth Topping. The gala gimmick was Move going beyond his sly speechifying as Graham to perform in her actual choreography, which he did in considerably compromised fashion, with an immobilized torso that could not achieve the dynamic force of the movement. As usual, he wore the elegant black gown with regal bearing. Desmond Richardson, the onetime Alvin Ailey star whose resume also includes Broadway, ABT and his ongoing co-directorship of the troupe Complexions, was every inch the Graham hunk in his gold briefs, torso and arm muscles rippling athletically. Richardson stood on a bench, posed like a Greek statue; Move swirled around and did some business with a black veil. It came across as a perfunctory display of imitation sensuality, while it was presumably intended to achieve a level of carnal intensity.

The company has kept “Maple Leaf Rag,” a slight but mildly witty work, in the repertory with great regularity. We don’t really need to see it that often, but on this occasion it served to confirm the company’s existence and ensemble spirit, presenting nearly the full roster cavorting through its playful, nimble sequences that allude mockingly to vintage Graham while celebrating the rhythmic vigor of Scott Joplin’s music.

“Our efforts will be to create fresh ways to inspire the appreciation of our heritage,” Eilber wrote in an upbeat program note, going on to announce the intention “to invent new relationships with presenter and audiences” and “to searching for revolutionary approaches to presenting the classics of the form.” Whether this type of evening — clearly a one-time special event — is indicative of that approach remains to be seen. The company confronts a lot of difficulties and questions, and one hopes that their resolution will make ongoing, committed performances of Graham’s enduring works possible for future audiences.

The photograph is by John Deane.

Volume 4, No. 16
April 24, 2006

copyright ©2006 Susan Reiter
www.danceviewtimes.com

 

 

©2006 DanceView