Fall Forward Dancers Take Risks, Dazzle Crowd

Choreographers Present Clever, Dynamic Pieces

Branching Out: Junior Juliana F. May's "The In Between Spaces" explores the tension between conformity and individual impulses. (photo by Areca Treon)

Playfulness and daring mark this weekend's Fall Forward dance concert, being performed tonight at 8 p.m. and tommorrow at 7:30 p.m. in Warner main space.

The program opens with a mimed plane crash choreographed by senior Anne Austen Gadwa. The piece, "Outside the Box," sets ten dancers pacing in rigid, geometric paths along the dance floor. Though coldly efficient at the outset, when the sound of an airplane breaks through and Laurie Anderson's hypnotic "From the Air" starts playing, the piece fast becomes an exercise in entropy. Senior Jose Melendez hops into the air as a voice from the song warns that the airplane will crash. The once robotic dancers jerk erratically and even display signs of affection, placing their hands on each other's shoulders. At the height of disarray, they scramble to the back of the floor, lift senior Mike Hodapp into the air and send him racing circuitously around the floor, miming a nosediving aircraft. Gadwa's choreography is compelling for its ambiguous characterization of the crash, a both tragic and redemptive fate. The closer the passengers come to devastation, the more human they appear.

The concert gets more fluid with "The In Between Spaces," a swirling piece by junior Juliana F. May. Clad in red, the dancers create an illusion of spontaneity, each one searching the floor for a space of his or her own. One dancer even gracefully trips ‹ deliberately of course ‹ on the foot of another. The tension in the piece lies between uniformity and deviation. No sooner is a pattern developed than it is subverted by one defiant dancer. May conveys this cycle of construction and reconstruction eloquently, at times juxtaposing a still figure with a spinning one. The relationship between the dancers never feels antagonistic, even when they bump shoulders. Rather, May captures a kind of harmony that emphasizes individualism.

Set to the relatively sedate "Close Enough for Love" by J. Madel and P. Williams and sung by Shirley Horn, dance professor Jonathon David Jackson's turbulent solo piece, "Mara" (1996-1998) has an air of tragedy. He sprints in a wide circle as though towards someone departing, then stops abruptly, stretching his arms desperately. Rhythmically, his whooshing slides across the floor and agonizingly arched back match the music impeccably, but they seem at odds with the lyrics, suggesting the friendship at hand is not, in fact, "close enough for love." His inflamed facial expressions and exhausting sprints suggest powerfully an effort to claim what's already lost.

Junior Mary Moran's "Xidentity" closes the concert's first half with another study of disrupted conformity. A 32-dancer ensemble marches in four single file lines from each side of the floor, intersecting, without colliding, at the center. Set to Thomas Newman's polyrhythmic "Dead Already," the piece is complicated when the dancers begin splitting off into groups. Some begin marching backwards, one slips on a pink wig, and by the end, the piece becomes a rambunctious costume party.

Tap dancers kick off the concert's second half. Senior Brinda Adhikari's "My Voice in Time" sets ten dancers clacking across the floor, at times in a single file line, at times in groups of three or four. Set to percussive chanting also composed by Adhikari, the piece explores the relationship between the accompaniment and the dance, suggesting ultimately that one is not dependent on the other. When the music stops, the dancers' feet startlingly continue their own song.

Junior Elizabeth Heard's "Running With Scissors," much like May's piece, explores the tension between autonomy and cooperation. Clad like grade-schoolers in light blue, pink and purple T-shirts, the dancers express ambivalence toward one another, exchanging awkward glances, unsure of whether to collaborate or indulge their own whims. Once formed, single file lines leads to shoving and an urge to break free. Set to R.E.M's gorgeous, understated "New Orleans Instrumental No. 5," the piece captures the excited curiosity of kindergarteners. The dancers whisper secrets into each other's ears, make circles over their eyes with their fingers, and mime someone drinking from a cup.

Jackson returns dressed in a white jump suit for "Bachelor's Mill (1999)," a highly sensual piece. Intoxicated by a scratchy recording of Bessie Smith's "Gimmie a Pigfoot," Jackson wiggles his feet, skips ecstatically, and flutters like someone who's waited too long for a kiss. No other piece in the concert so candidly acknowledged the audience. Jackson reaches to them, winks his eye, displaying a hilarious level of self-consciousness, as if unveiling a secret he's tired of hiding.

The concert picks up considerably at its finale with sophomore Ni'Ja Whitson's "And What?!?!," set to the thunderous pop of Destiny's Child. Thirteen dancers, clad in sneakers and bright tank tops, sway their arms near the floor and clap their hands, intermittently shouting "And what?." They maintain perfect rhythmic unison, even when Destiny's Child stops playing, carrying the song on, much as Adhikari's tap dancers did, with their stomping feet. In a concert that largely celebrates individual tangents, "And What?!?!" ends on a note of solidarity, a refreshing climax to the night.

The show's ambiance is, in large part, due to the delicate lighting designs of Astrid Jobe and senior Carolyn Wong and to the sound design and engineering of junior Erin Hollins and sophomore Leah Corn. For its versatility, playfulness, and willingness to take risks, the 2000 Fall Forward dance concert beckons the campus' attention this weekend.