Archive for March, 2011

March 31, 2011

Blood, sweat & sacrifice: In the world of dance practice really does make perfect

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Hope Center students

Photo by Simon Gentry

“Why do dancers have to take class every day? Don’t they have it down by now?” a man asked me after a lecture.

It was an honest and somewhat naive question, pointing to how little we understand training in the performing arts. Training is an astounding thing, and we recognize it when we see it.

There’s a magical moment in Billy Elliot when he stuns his classmates with his balance and line. Even his miner dad eventually sees his power.

And didn’t we all gasp at how ballerina-ish Natalie Portman looked after one year of training (well, at least her arms did, thanks to Kurt Froman’sexcellent ballet classes)? The bottom half of crazy girl Nina Sayerbelonged to the uber technician Sarah Lane, an ABT soloist. Dance Magazine Chief Wendy Perron sets us straight on the training truth behind Black Swan blackoutgate.

We are talking blood, sweat, sacrifice, time and tears when it comes to performing artists’ dedication. Most of us know that musicians clock in six hours a day; Performance Today has an excellent series detailing The Art of Practicing right now.  But we are less familiar with the rigor it takes for other artists to complete those movement marvels night after night without a hitch.

When LI Wei runs back and forth on a swinging slackwire during his act as part of Cirque du Soleil’s OVO , you bet it’s taken years to manage the particular neuromuscular connections to make it all look second nature. LI is one of the few people in the world with the chops to pull it off.

Andrew Corbett, Artistic Assistant for OVO, knows a thing or two on the specificity of training when it comes to managing the cadre of human wonders at Cirque.

“In addition to full-out, daily performance, our artists train two hours a day on average,” says Corbett. “Most Cirque performers were first high level, competitive athletes. Cirque teaches them to be artists as well. They train in dance, improvisation and character development for at least a year before joining a show.”

Amy Ell, founder of Vault, Houston’s leading aerial dance artist, took the opposite path, seeking out circus training to augment her contemporary work. When Ell hangs from the ceiling of Spring Street Studios in her newest piece, Torn, during Spacetaker‘s SOLD OUT gala this Saturday, there’s a whole lot of smarts in both her movement and rigging choices.

Sure, she’s fearless, but not without an immensely vast knowledge base keeping her suspended mid-air. Ell, widely known on the international aerial dance circuit, has studied with circus experts all over the globe and now conducts her own teacher training at Gyrotonic Houston, her second operation. Ell is also a Master Level One Gyrotonic Trainer, one of a handful in the world.

“I have to cross train for the upper body strength,” she says.

Training is daily and specific to the art form. Without it, believe me, you can tell. I have sat through too many performances where daily class was the missing element. No, rehearsal is not enough.

So if you were one of the lucky ones dazzled by Joseph Walsh’s last minute fill in for Connor Walsh on opening night at The Sleeping Beauty, know that those snazzy double cabrioles didn’t come from playing video games, but morning  ballet class, where a dancer works diligently on “getting it down.”

For contemporary dancers, daily class has some serious obstacles, like the fact that most dancers have to work at day jobs, leaving only evenings to rehearse and train. Plus, after you graduate from college, you have to find a place to train. Karen Stokes, Head of the Dance Division at UH’s School of Theatre & Dance and Artistic Director of Travesty Dance Group, copes with this situation often. Luckily, UH grads can continue training at UH for a small donation.

“If I could pay my company dancers a realistic living as dancers, they would be able to focus completely on their training and performing.  But, I can’t, and they have to figure out how to do both,” says Stokes. “It’s not a perfect world. The fact that they make this choice at all is a testament to their passion as dancers.”

Stokes offers a warm-up or company class before each rehearsal. “It gets us all going as a company and it provides a regular technique routine.”

Jane Weiner, founder of Hope Stone, came here from New York’s competitive dance scene, where she had numerous choices for daily class. In Houston, the prospects are slim, which is why she founded Hope Center, one of the few places to take daily class for contemporary dancers.

“Class is also a time to come together as a community,” says Weiner, who is also working with Houston Ballet II for her upcoming An Evening of Bread and Circus. “And it’s a great way to introduce material from whatever dance I am working on.”

In this case, Weiner used class time to immerse HB II in her vocabulary. Houston Ballet offers adult open classes and hopes to expand its offerings now that they have more space at Center for Dance.

Watching Courtney Jones teach Suchu Dance‘s company class, I was struck by the play of bold movements mixed with tiny details. These dancers need more than a ballet class to become fluent in Jennifer Wood’s highly nuanced choreographic edges, and they have found a good match in Jones’ eclectic approach. Jam packed with quirky gestures, loose energy and an animated physicality, Wood’s idiosyncratic vocabulary takes time to master; the qualitative range, the quick shifts in direction and an organic sense of theatricality require the same amount of attention as 36 consecutive fouettes.

Suchu also performs excerpts of her newest opus Masters of Semblanceat SOLD OUT. Her show runs March 24-April 3 at Barnevelder.

Actors train, too. Do you think complicated emotions just come out of nowhere? Had a dancer been used instead of an accomplished actor inBlack Swan, I would be complaining about something else.

“Training for actors is not widely understood,” says Kim Tobin, director of  Kim Tobin Acting Studio, which is based in the Meisner and  Adler approach. “You have to work out your emotional muscles. It’s what makes any character believable.” Just like dance, performing in a play is distinct from training.

“You need a place with a safety net  to take risks and make mistakes,” says Tobin, who is launching The Stark Naked Theatre Co. with Philip Lehl in May with Debt Collectors, a modern adaptation of August Strindberg’s Creditors at Obsidian Art Space. “On the job you apply your skills.”

For Tobin, post-theater school training is essential. “College provides a good foundation, but you need to continue to work on yourself.”

So the next time you see a performing artist do something amazing, know that the second that it took to accomplish it actually took years to master.

Reprinted from Culturemap.

March 31, 2011

Kristina Wong fuses cat pee, insecurity and pick up artistry in Cat Lady

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Photo by Diana Topshiko

I had planned to write about something else, but I got stopped in my tracks watching a vid of Kristina Wong eating cat food, or at least try to. How could I focus on anything else when an artist is willing to eat cat food to get me interested in her show?

Alright, Ms. Wong, you got me — DiverseWorks too. Wong’s newest opus, Cat Lady, which was co-commissioned by DiverseWorks, ODC Theater and The National Performance Network, runs through Saturday.

To be honest, Wong got my attention just the week before while trolling my favorite ladysnark site, Jezebel, over her beef with Oscarflop James Franco. ”I could have hosted the Oscars in my sleep. Apparently, that’s what James Franco tried to do,” wrote the sassy Wong on her blog.

The wannabe-artist Francster had dissed Wong’s commencement address at the UCLA English Department graduation minutes before snapping a photo with her. Wong is an accomplished multi-disciplinary artist with more grants and honors to her name than fake artist Franco will ever amass. But things have been looking up for Wong since the overrated actor insulted her: “Thanks James! I need more A-list celebs to diss me ASAP,” she dishes from her “A brief break from Francogate”post.

But let’s get back to cats, specifically Cat Lady, a piece that attempts to bridge the world of lonely, desperate cat ladies and the subculture of pick-up artists. How can that be possible? It’s easy, according to Wong, who makes a living bringing people to startling new ideas with her own brand of irreverent mix mastering.

To prepare, Wong immersed herself in the seedy cult of the pick-up artist, reading Neil Strauss’ classic The Game and watching the VH1 reality show The Pickup Artist. I had never heard of the show, but one pathetic  YouTube vid later I am dying to own guru Mystery’s furry hat, which I suspect has been fashioned from someone’s dead cat. Not Wong’s cat Oliver, though, who provided some of the inspiration for Cat Lady, and has a featured role in the show.

Wong’s new work comes from the isolation of being on tour with her one-woman smash hit, Wong Flew over The Cuckoo’s Nest, which she describes as a “swear-to-god-not-autobiographical, serio-comic portrayal of the high incidence of anxiety, depression and mental illness among Asian-American women.” It’s not exactly fluffy subject matter, and the tour took a toll on the performance artist. The piece has since been made into a film by Michael Closson.

Oliver didn’t appreciate Wong’s success, and began spraying her apartment. That’s fancy cat science talk for when your feline feels abandoned and pees all over your house. “It was really intense to be alone on tour doing this show about suicide and depression,” recalls Wong. She began to question her own identity. Could she be turning into a crazy cat lady?

“I wondered, ‘what else can I do?’ There’s always this fear that this is it,” Wong says.

Somewhere in the process, she happened on the bonanza of the pick-up artist world and found an immediate resonance in the language. “It’s the same material as theater games,” says Wong. “They are really teaching theatrical techniques. As a solo performer, we had a lot in common.”

Sixto Wagan first watched Wong’s work at a National Performance Network conference. It took another five years for their schedules to work out. ”How she brings cat pee, pick-up artistry and loneliness together is just brilliant,” says Wagan, DiverseWorks’ co-director. “I love Kristina’s insightful, self-deprecating humor. The audience is part of it, not the target of it.”

For Cat Lady, Wong left the solo life behind, enlisting the talents of co-conspirators Miss Barbie Q, Clayton Shane Farris and Jabez Zuniga for her first ensemble piece. All have undergone considerable pick-up artist training, and, quite possibly, so has Oliver the cat. Bootcamp training with master DJ Fuji turned the cast into a clan of skilled practitioners.

The team gave me a crash course, trying such openers on me as, “You have this innocence about you; it’s really lovely.” But my fave is, “Hey, did you see the fight outside?” That one had me; connection is key.

The goal is to close the deal, or, in pick-up lingo, earn a “kiss close,” or the top banana, a “fuck close.” According to Miss Barbie Q, it’s really just about good social skills. All have reported better luck at bars since undergoing intensive training.

The show is directed by Shawn Sides of Austin-based devised theater legends The Rude Mechs. Ian Garrett is the production designer, his first show since returning to Houston as Fresh Arts‘ new executive director.

“I tried to create three worlds: The clubhouse or ‘dens’ of pick-up artist workshops, a club, and elements of Kristina’s world,” says Garrett. “Photos from the world summit  provided ideas as well.” Although the Los Angeles native is based in Houston now, he found collaborating with Wong easy and rewarding. “The show is wild,” he says. “She doesn’t hold back.”

Wong naturally sources her own life for her art. She currently lives in Los Angeles without a car, and after her pink biodiesel Mercedes Benz, Harold, died, she chronicled her wheel-free life in her show Going Green the Wong Way. You can crack up while learning something about crowdfunding from her cat food chow down or learn about “catsourcing” in her hilarious post, “I Made over $5,600 with only minor public humiliation: Ask me how.” The resulting show, Cat Lady, should prove well worth swallowing a little cat chow.

Plus one other thing — Wong says the show will end racism.

Reprinted from Culturemap.

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