Danceworks Gets ‘It Out There’ for Our Time

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Photo by Christal Wagner

Danceworks 'Get It Out There'

Danceworks 'Get It Out There'

Get It Out There is the forthright title of a decades-long Danceworks DanceLAB showcase of new work and work-in-progress by area artists, mostly in dance. The October 7 concert included 14 premieres, presented in separate concerts of seven works each. I was able to see the second group. 

Get It Out There champions experiment. I’m a fan for that reason, and for the services it provides by way of introductions to artists, ideas and styles. The Danceworks studio theater is small enough to allow makers to feel when their work connects and disconnects, and the show provides an invaluable deadline for them in the making process. 

The audience is given time after each presentation to write a response. This year, specific questions from the creators were printed at the top of each response sheet. Danceworks gives this feedback to the artists to help them refine the work as needed.

The outstanding program I saw included six dances and a chamber music piece for vocal quartet and electronic accompaniment. All were skilled, honest responses to life in this challenging time.

One of our best choreographers, Catey Ott Thompson, opened the show with a solo titled Apogee/Connectivity. As the title suggests, it seemed aspirational, a vision of self-connectedness realized. Calm throughout, Ott Thompson entered slowly in silence, barefoot in loose pants and shirt. Dreamy, harp-like electronic music filled the room. Without flash, in flowing, free form, full bodied movements, a short run, some childlike hops, and bits of shaking, she was of a piece and at peace. She embodied internal connectivity and shared it with the room as inspiration, blessing and a perfect opening for this program.

Next, Jo Brockway’s Less addressed a possible impediment to such connectedness. This young choreographer’s sharp, fraught piece addressed women’s inequality. Dancers Greta Jenkins and Jade Eitel sat on the floor back-to-back, their long hair loose. To music of operatic intensity by Woodkid, they executed Brockway’s all-out, full-bodied choreography with passion. I saw them variously as antagonists and helpmates in an increasingly hellish world. As the final image, each held her hand across the other’s mouth, enforcing silence.

Sejain Bastida, Rebecca Johnson, and Kathleen Wolff performed personal excerpts from a larger work, titled Realizations, choreographed by the Catey Ott Dance Collective of which they are members. The subject is “life milestones.” To the sound of a heartbeat, an extended solo in contemporary ballet style revealed a woman alone and weary, yet capable of mastering increasingly difficult dance moves. A second woman joins. They partner one another, and then flee at the arrival of the third woman dancing to powerful hip hop rhythms in fluid moves with amazing back bends. After she leaves, the second woman returns. She lies on the floor like Narcissus viewing her reflection in the water. She grows happier, gathers energy, agility, balance, control, and readiness for whatever’s next, a milestone met.

Ever-Compelling Fashion

Next, choreographer/dancer Ivy—also known as Isaac Robertson (They/She/He), a member of Danceworks’outstanding professional company Danceworks Performance MKE—presented an elegant, eloquent solo named, inexplicably, 528 Hz. They began with face and body invisible under a deep blue overhead light, their arms slowly lifting and falling, and then revealed themselves in gentle light, dressed in white, moving to a meditative Sound Bath score. They danced with near-heroic presence, gliding powerfully and gracefully from position to position, filling space in ever-compelling fashion, assured but never over-bearing.  There was surely pride in it, but Ivy meant, I think, to lift and calm us with a visual bath to match the sound. So nicely accomplished.

Bird sounds in darkness opened To Burn, choreographer/dancer Greta Jenkins’ wrenching solo to Bon Iver’s Woods. The question she asked for our feedback was “How can we burn brightly in the midst of burnout?” She crawled on the floor, rose sadly, executed bursts of extreme movement intercut with stillness, hands covering face as one does when life’s all too much. Sorrow became sobs and movement grew violent as she battled space from all directions. We were right there with her.

Composer/musician Lawton Hall has an MFA from UWM where he currently teaches music theory and composition. He accompanied soprano Camile Crossot, alto Deme Hellwig, tenor Anthony Andronczyk, and bass Sam Mullooly in his composition titled Let Us Assume. In notes, he describes the subject as the attempt to reconcile logic and faith. As such, it belonged with these dances. I think the whole room was enraptured. 

I’m with you, always closed the show. Choreographed by Zoe Glise, who works with every major contemporary dance company in the area, and performed by Glise, Faith Rae, Katie Speltz and Libby Steckmesser to music by Garth Stevenson, it presented and, I think, represented a community of individuals united, caring, capable, necessary—a perfect end note for this concert.