Jacey Kinnaird

Dance Criticism
Review 1

“Unwanted” from Rwanda to the NY Premiere

On the 22nd of September I traveled to the Baryshnikov Arts Center, but the

stories I bore witness to originated much further away. Dorothee Munyaneza, who

currently resides in France, collected interviews about the experiences of Rwandan

women who were raped during the genocide of 1994. She and Holland Andrews

(Portland, OR) created a performance based on the autobiographies translated into

English, French, song, and movement.

The performance began almost unexpectedly as Munyaneza slowly walked

diagonally across the stage, crouched softly to pick up a mic while Andrews also slowly

sauntered towards her sound setup further upstage. The voice of a woman telling her

story in her native tongue began to play, Munyaneza translated it emotively into English.
Throughout the performance different women’s experiences marked chapters in the

overall story of how the body and mind are affected when rape is used as an instrument

of war.

Enraged, Munyaneza yelled “Because of you I was smashed into pieces” as she

feverishly ran back and forth across the stage, her firm yet trembling arm pointed at the

audience searching for the culprit of her pain. The relative calm of the recordings and

translations was juxtaposed with Munyaneza’s impassioned, and often violent

movement. Such as when she wielded a wooden pestle like a baseball bat and bashed

the ground and corrugated metal with reckless effort.

Andrews was an active vocal and background participant. Although, when both

she and Munyaneza moved together, they no longer operated as two separate entities,

but fostered an interconnectedness previously missing in the piece. Munyaneza washed

Andrew’s feet with care, creating a tender moment like that between parent and child. It

ended with a crescendo of energy as each pounded a wooden pestle into mortars on

the right side of the stage with their entire body weight singing harmoniously the title of

the piece “Unwanted”.

This piece was courageous in its performance of pain. However, it was clear from

the pervasiveness of music that both Munyaneza and Andrews are deeply entrenched

in the art of sound. Many gestures were repetitive, and the considerable amount of slow

walking, which did not differ considerably in style could challenge an audience

member’s patience. There was less movement incorporated than I would have expected

from reading the program description. I tried then to look more closely at minute
gestures, such as those made by Andrews while she sang, but even with my front row

seat I could not see as clearly as I would have liked with the consistently dim lighting.

I wonder, what would happen if Munyaneza challenged herself to tell a story

without words? What if she had to tell a story without any sound? Where would her

body take her then? I think these challenges would bring out more variety in her

movement patterns and allow her movement vocabulary to expand, rather than

movement being substituted for sound. An increased amount and variety of physicality

would add a layer of complexity to the piece. It would also connect the audience more

viscerally to the effects of rape on the bodies and spirits of the women who so

graciously shared their stories for artistic interpretation.

Review 2

How Here and How Now?

Ballet has a staunch reputation as a strictly canonized and timeless art form.

Within a centuries-long history, change surely happens, but so slowly it could take a

lifetime to become apparent. With the New York City Ballet’s “30 for 30” program, which

offers $30 tickets to patrons 30 and under, the company is attempting to rally young

audiences and spark interest, and hopefully a lifelong passion, for ballet.

I took advantage of the affordability of a ticket to see Here/Now, a 21st century

program. I was curious to see how connect to the present he pieces would be.

Christopher Wheeldon’s ​Polyphonia​ was the oldest on the program and premiered in

2011. Sixteen years seems like ages in a modern world where news, products, and

photos change with the swipe of a finger. So, what is here and now about the ballet, a

place where you aren’t even allowed to be on your phone?

The curtain rose to reveal Maria Kowroski center stage in a steel blue leotard

with Jared Angle directly behind her dressed in deep maroon (designed by Holly

Hynes). Christopher Wheeldon’s ​Liturgy​ had begun. Kowroski began a movement, and

Angle followed a moment after, as if the ripple of her motion catalyzed his. Arcs and

circles are integral to the choreography. Even in linear movements there was a soft

roundness, especially in the sweeping leg movements of Kowroski. When the two

moved in unison, whether arching their arms behind or sharply articulating their wrists,

they appeared simultaneous and identical. It was eerie in its exactness, as if the dance

had somehow caused two bodies to be controlled by a single mind. Several times the
pair morphed into a shifting kaleidoscope of shapes. It was difficult to tell whose arms

were whose, but it didn’t matter. In this dance, the two became an increasingly complex

one. The style felt more timeless than “Now”, but there is nothing that precludes now

from including something that would be relevant decades from now. The level of artistic

talent displayed on stage made the piece exude New York City.

While Justin Peck’s ​The Times Are Racing ​was the last piece performed on the

program, it was one of the most salient. A piece that was certainly both “Here” and

“Now”! The dancers were dressed in street clothes (designed by Humberto Leon) and

the pace and buoyancy in their movement reminded me of going out on a Friday night.

Women were occasionally partnered with other women, as others were paired more

traditionally. I was also ecstatic to diversity of race after several pieces that felt too white

to be reflective of the current character of New York City. Tiler Peck and Amar Ramasar

were magnetic when they danced together. They embodied a playful compatibility

characteristic of modern romance. Once, they even thrust the other dancers off in a vain

attempt to gain alone time. This reminded me of an attempt of a young couple to find

privacy in a bustling city.

“Four pairs in purple” was my first thought as ​Polyphonia​ got under way. The

stage erupted into chaos as each pair attacked its own choreography. Their shadows

danced across the back wall and made the scene contain even more unrestrained

disorder. There were moments of reprieve as seemingly random pairs would fall in sync

with one another. Throughout, there was a distinct connection between the dance and

music, uniformity and lightness was traded eagerly for disorder and dissonance
(composed by Gyorgy Ligeti). At one point a pair waltzed across the stage, providing

equal parts comedy and confusion as it stuck out in contrast to other sections of the

piece. ​Polysphonia ​manages to capture a range of emotions through its range of

choreography, from a tense pas de deux to four unified or erratic pairs. The diversity in

emotion and turmoil is indicative of the current social climate, and dressing all in purple

is similar to the “New York” style of dressing in all black. At times I attempted to

decipher what the piece was about. The color purple? I decided that was good enough

for me.

Alexei Ratmansky’s ​Odessa​ is a love story, with what sounds like Spanish

influence in the music (by Leonid Desyatnikov) and a hint of flamenco hidden in some

poses. However, the over dramatization Ratmansky provided, including interpersonal

violence, was in contrast with the rest of the program and made the piece feel forced.

While drama is very twenty-first century, it didn’t feel very now or New York.

The New York City Ballet almost lived up to the title of this program. The pieces

overall brimmed with energy and emotion. However, I think it is fair to challenge the

ballet to promote diversity, in not only their dancers, but their musicians, composers and

choreographers. Although another program, “21st Century Choreographers”, did include

two works by women “Here/Now” did not include any chorepraphers or composers who

were people of color or women. Where are they? I know they exist. Then, the real

question is, when will the New York City Ballet care enough to hire them?
Review 3

Creator’s Note

This project “Opinion of a Hungry Crowd” was made in response to two performances at

the Danspace project titled “A Shared Evening: Jasmine Hearn / Mariana Valencia”

which took place on October 14th 2017. The first two pages of my response are

referencing ​shook​ with content and direction by Jasmine Hearn, adn the last two about

Yugoslavia​ by Mariana Valencia. The cutting of red construction paper into letters by

Valencia in her piece inspired this project, the cutting up of magazines.

I was also interested in how when writing one tries to find the words to put on paper. In

this project I literally had to find the words and paste them down.

When writing about dance someone else’s work is integral to the written piece, in the

same way that other writers’ words and phrases were integral to my piece, in addition to

the movement.

Neuroscientists discovered that the act of recalling changes the memory itself. In fact,

the more you recall a memory the more changes accumulate, like a long game of

telephone. So, in this piece I was dealing with the frailty of my own memory to connect

phrases to things I saw in the work. I also acknowledge that these writers’ words likely

reshaped what I thought in retrospect about the dance works. For example, the

February issue of the Barnard Bulletin had many pieces about love, and self love. I
noticed that I started to think of ​shook​ in the context of the bond the women shared and

the love and respect for the black female body that the piece exuded. I think if I had not

been looking through the Valentine’s Day issue that my response would have turned out

much differently.

While others influenced this work with their written thoughts, these are mine

nonetheless.

Magazines Used
Barnard Bulletin February 2017
Barnard Bulletin October 2017
Food & Wine September 2017
Food & Wine October 2017
Time Magazine, September 25th 2017
Review 4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qL7Y7Y_enAg

The Greatest?
Jacey Kinnaird

I recently heard ​the slew of hip hop dance class videos available online as “junk food”,

and I get it. I can sit in front of a screen for hours just watching and letting YouTube take

me along for a ride (come on, I know you’ve done it too). But, I think that binging dance

videos on the internet is more like comfort food than junk food. There is something

gained as a viewer and there isn’t anything wrong with the consumption. The videos

give dance visibility, and for some creators a stream of revenue. The increasingly

accessible internet allows free access to dance viewing and even learning. For
example, ​this 12 year old girl​ taught herself how to dance dubstep in only 8 months just

by watching, pausing, and rewinding YouTube videos.

Kyle Hanagami​, a choreographer, taught a free masters class at the​ ​Millennium Dance

Complex​ in L.A. to Sia’s “The Greatest”. With an upbeat tempo and inspirational

message, it’s no surprise that plenty of dancers and choreographers have gravitated to

the song and recorded their efforts.

What does a closer look at​ ​this viral hip-hop video to Sia’s “The Greatest” reveal​? And

why do I enjoy it so damn much?

The cinematographer, ​Ryan Parma​ films in single unbroken takes for each group and

keeps the majority of the dancers’ bodies in the frame. This provides a realistic and

complete view of the dance. I can also imagine that Hanagami is the one clapping

before the performances, preparing me for the initiation of movement and abundance of

raw energy. This piece has a lyrical emphasis as the movements and words are closely

entwined, for example, the dancers cover their eyes to Sia’s phrase “I close my eyes”.

There are 5 groups of dancers, and each performs the same minute long dance slightly

differently. For example, the first duet begins with pantomimed choking and the second

with a slow lean into one another (groups ​2​ and ​5​).
I appreciate how much effort I see on the screen. The dancers showcase their intense

athleticism and “stamina”, an important repeated lyric that lends to the physically

demanding choreography .​ ​As Ryan Vettel takes the floor​ he has already soaked

through his purple shirt with sweat. He shifts from an aggressive run in place to a

horizontal​ ​movement he initiates with his head​ in a way that’s thrilling to watch. His

extensions are full, his movements alternate between fluid and sharp exactly as the

choreography intends, and he throws his body into the dance with such commitment

that I can’t comprehend how he hasn’t fallen down.

Jade Chynoweth demands attention in each of the groups she dances in (​1​ and ​5​).

While on one hand I’m jealous of her ripped abs, on the other I also can’t imagine

seeing her not dancing. Dancing seems like her natural mode of being. She is the hard

hitting lead in group 1, and a remarkably observant and connected partner in group 5.

I proudly binge watch viral hip-hop dance videos and fantasize about jumping into a

class. These videos go viral because viewers form a connection to them. Watch for

yourself, what do you connect with?

Review 5

Exercise or Dance? Both?

What is dance? I asked my mom the same question as she laughed at me for

minoring in dance when I am not a “dancer.” She thought about her answer for a

moment, and then retorted “Moving to music.” Her succinct response reminded me of

Arlene Croce’s rumination “​If it moves, I’m interested; if it moves to music, I’m in love!”

A few weeks later I was working out in my college gym, Sia blasting in my

headphones, when I abruptly wondered, am I dancing? Well, I was moving. More than

that, I was moving to music just as my mom had described. Is there a difference

between exercise and dance, and where then is the boundary between them? I have

since taken it upon myself to explore this ambiguous frontier.

I attended an exercise class which incorporated dance as well as a dance class,

both in the same broad style category of hip-hop. My first class at Buffalo N.Y.’s Bike or

Bar (clever isn’t it?) was titled “Rachet Twerking in the Dark” (the style originates from

the New Orleans Bounce scene).

In the first song alone, we completed at least 50 squats to the booming beat of

the song. Are squats dance? I watched the instructor, Bianca (who developed this

program herself), throughout the class to better understand how to produce the desired

bounce characteristic of twerking. Bianca shifted my perspective on the physics of my

own body to include movements I did not even know possible. Frankly, I did not know

they were achievable because no one had ever showed me and, to be honest, I had

never tried to learn. In addition to dancers, many athletes spend years honing their
understanding of the physics of their own body. Both athletes and dancers attempt to

reach the limits of their physicality for some greater aim.

I concluded that dance based fitness classes blur the edges of performance and

lie on the periphery of art.

(Myself before my class at Ailey Extension)

I then attended the “Absolute Beginner Hip-Hop” class at Ailey Extension in New

York City. As my friend made fun of me at the front desk, once again for being a dance

minor who can’t dance, the staff asserted that “Everyone can dance!” I pointed out that

everyone can dance, but not everyone can dance well. She agreed and we made our

way to studio 1B to give dancing a try.

At the beginning of Robin Dunn’s class we laid down for a mindfulness exercise,

stretched out legs like I did when I ran track, completed a core exercise circuit, and held

yoga poses for the warm-up. To me, these movements were all borrowed from other

practices, including athletics. As we practiced choreography my heart rate elevated and

I began sweating intensely. As my shortness of breath must have indicated, the dance

class was a workout.

In my search I witnessed many more similarities than differences between

exercise and dance. The two classes I experienced were very much alike, even if this

isn’t always the case in all styles of dance and exercise modalities.

In order to examine the relationship of all exercise to dance, let’s compare two

drastically different styles of movement in a thought experiment: crossfit and modern

dance.

Is there a significant difference between the squat of a modern dancer and the

squat of a professional crossfit athlete? Take modern dance legend Martha Graham

and crossfit athlete Brooke Ence for example

and consider the similarities between these two photos. Their chests are vertical and

their knees are out. Their arms are angled, albeit differently. Which is dance? Which

isn’t? Why? What preconceived opinions are you bringing to the images?
 It is well understood that dance is at the very least a form of aerobic exercise, as

evident by the sheen of sweat and panting visible during the curtain call of a

performance. But why isn’t exercise called dance? Aesthetics? Standards? The squat

has certain standards of form in fitness, but its standards are more for safety and

functionality than aesthetics. Does the intent of the movement matter and categorize a

movement as either exercise or dance? It does not, as Alastair Macaulay observed and

noted in “The Fluid Dance That is Grand Central” where he describes the mundane

movement of commuters as dance. Similarly, Jane Jacobs wrote about an “intricate

sidewalk dance” in her book ​The Death and Life of Great American Cities​. These

examples show that even movement not intended as dance can be labeled and

observed as such.

I have attempted to explore the boundary between exercise and dance.

However, as I drew closer to where I thought it might be, I was unable to find a

boundary at all. Exercise is dance and dance is exercise.

Photo Credit

https://www.icp.org/exhibitions

https://www.instagram.com/brookeence/?hl=en