QUINN HARRIS, HILARY FENDER, SPENCER BAILEY
<Contributors>
For their second trip to the theatre on March 8th, your mock trial producers began the night with a candlelit dinner at La Palette ending at Spencer Bailey’s apartment with his cat Boston, some whiskey, cheddar and onion flavoured chips, and shreds of na’an bread. In between, they watched some dance! Resident dance aficionado Hilary chose the dance piece, and introduced Quinn and Spencer to her favourite art form, as well as a new friend at intermission (more to follow on this one). Along the way Spencer and Quinn learned about modern dance, the human body, and, more importantly, about themselves.
Rare Mix is a collection of four dance pieces put on by 12 dancers from the Toronto Dance Theatre, a contemporary dance ensemble that performs primarily Canadian choreography. The pieces are from the company’s repertoire and showcase choreographic works created from 1968-2012. The two ensemble pieces (Four Towers & Vena Cava) are classical “Martha Graham” contemporary modern, a style that was developed in the early 20th century as a rebellion against classical ballet. The oldest and newest pieces (Against Sleep & Étrange) are more experimental and featured smaller groups of dancers in less structured routines.
SPENCER: The show was in the Fleck Dance Theatre, which is on the third floor of the Queen’s Quay terminal right down by the lakefront. The theatre is remarkably attractive, but you wouldn’t expect it to be nestled into this shopping mall-style building. It had an attractive chandelier, bar, and an art gallery. For $15 student tickets, it’s a great bet for a night out on the town.
We sat down in the tall, darkened theatre and I immediately realized I don’t know the first thing about dance. I had the feeling that by the time I was done watching the show I would be an aficionado, but at least at the beginning, I leaned over to Hilary and asked, “So, what is dance? What am I looking for here?” Hilary gave me an explanation somewhere along the lines of “it is expression,” which helped only moderately. Of course, after watching the show, I know that is probably the best explanation I could have received.
HILARY: The first piece, Four Towers, was a really great introduction to the show. It was a classic Martha Graham style work, full of breath, core work and symbolism, and all of the dancers were extremely grounded and centered. This is completely necessary to pull off Graham’s style with any sort of conviction, as every dancer appears strong, and full of a central energy. There are no throwaway movements. As much as modern dance is a breakaway from balletic form, dancers trained in the Graham style are by no means “freestyle” or any less technically gifted. Four Towers was an optimistic and touching number featuring two beautiful soloists as well as a more melancholy trio. This piece is more “dance-y” and appeals to those of us (myself included) who love the aesthetic qualities of dance as well as the expressive. For me, dance is beautiful because any time there is more than one body on stage, the choreographer and dancers are attempting to mold two, or three, or fifteen different human bodies into a cohesive piece of movement while concurrently using each dancer’s particular strengths to convey the magic of the piece. I was explaining to another friend who was going to see the piece that there is no “right” way to watch dance. Every time I see a piece, I fall in love with one of the dancers and inevitably end up focusing on him or her while alternatively watching the work as a whole.
QUINN: The second piece, Étrange (French for “strange”), was just what the title suggested. A piece for three dancers with minimal lighting, and music that would be best described as sound, it was the newest, and for me, the most adventurous piece. Since the dancers remained relatively stationary in small areas of light, it really gave you the opportunity to study the form of the human body, and their movements, ranging from robotic to grotesque, were a test of their physical endurance and contortionist ability. I think my favourite “move” was where one dancer was standing still and moving his tongue, while another replicated the waves of the tongue with his entire body. What does it mean? I don’t know. But I really like imagining what the rehearsal process might have been like… “no, no, a little slower with the tongue movements, yes, now the lights will go down here, and come back up and you’ll be riding him like a horse.” I can only assume that, since I don’t understand it, it was brilliant.
SPENCER: At intermission, a man named John (who somewhat resembled Buster from Arrested Development) approached us as we were leaning over a table and discussing the finer points of the first two dances. Our conversation went something like this:
John: Excuse me, but are you a dancer?
Hilary: Yes, actually I am. Well, I used to dance but now I just do it for fun, we’re all in law school.
John: I knew it, I can always tell a dancer. And what’s your name?
Hilary: Hilary.
John: Hilary what?
Hilary: Fender.
John: Fendro?
Hilary: Uh, yes.
John: Oh, Friendo. Hmmm, that must be Latin?
Hilary: I don’t know. I think I’m Canadian, pretty far back.
John: Hilary, I can tell you are very spirited, by your gestures. I bet you are going to be a litigator.
Hilary: Maybe, that is definitely one of my interests.
John: Yes, litigation takes lots of energy. I can tell you are a warrior. I mean, I don’t mean to call you a war-monger, I mean you are a warrior.
Hilary: Oh. Right. Haha. Thanks.
John unfortunately did not take too much interest in Quinn or myself, only pausing to remark that Quinn’s use of the word “schtick” meant that she was intelligent, as the use of a Yiddish word by a young person is a sign of intelligence, and to note that I had the “physique of a dancer.” Naturally, the lesson learned from our interesting encounter was that when you take a night out to a fine artistic event, you never know where the entertainment will come from.
QUINN: Feeling emboldened by John’s affirmation of my intelligence, I settled in with a more critical eye for the second half. The next piece, Against Sleep was my least favourite of the night. This duet is described as an exploration of the temptation of suicide. To explore this theme, the piece focused more on symbolic imagery than on technique, but for me the seducing “devil” character and the use of a large red cloth to invoke the idea of death felt a bit tired to me. It was kind of like a lame version of a high-concept So You Think You Can Dance routine, but with less impressive dancing. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be too critical, since it was likely revolutionary (if not mildly interesting) for its time – the choreographer, Patricia Beatty, might very well have been the Mia Michaels of 1969. That and my only qualifications as a reviewer come from a few years of dance better characterized as “awkward flailing” at Miss Victoria’s Ballet School, and of course some dedicated couch time watching SYTYCD. But let’s not forget my ability to pepper conversation with the appropriate Yiddish word or two, ok?
HILARY: I still wonder what I would have had to do to convince John that I was much more than a warrior and, in fact, actually a war-monger. Maybe if I had been a bit less agreeable, or insisted that he refer to me by my real last name. I think he was calling me Friendo on purpose to test my character. Vena Cava was as it sounds: a blood pumping and energetic ode to the musicality and celebration of dance. Like Four Towers it was inspired by the music of composer Robert Moran and has groups of dancers connecting with different layers of the music. The male soloist in this piece was a dynamo. Maybe even a warrior. Either way, he looked great in a kilt (what all of the male dancers were wearing… but his was especially form-flattering). In conclusion: I love Dance. Was this my favourite set of pieces? No. Was John the best half-time show I’ve ever seen? Resoundingly yes. How-How Toronto Dance Theatre.