In 21 pornographies—Danish choreographer Mette Ingvartsen’s solo show at Performance Space New York—Ingvartsen played an army general who, after shitting on the floor
The massive, blazingly white stage, erected at the Park Avenue Armory for Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker’s North American premiere of Six Brandenburg Concertos, creates an atmosphere of heightened expectation. It looks like a giant frozen pond, or the head of a drum, and it feels like something big is bound to happen.
In her book-length poems Claudia Rankine weaves together highly personal anecdotes with collective memories of politicized events and popular culture: an inadvertent racist comment, the vigilante murder of Trayvon Martin, Zidane’s head-butt in the 2006 World Cup—these are the fodder for her filters.
Watching choreographers Jennifer Nugent and Paul Matteson discuss their creative process and personal rapport during one of New York Live Arts’ signature “Stay Late Conversations,” spoken language seems a limited vehicle to convey the intricacies of their decades-long artistic partnership.
It is a brisk late-August day in Berlin and I am at the Radialsystem V, the former water purification plant flanking the banks of the river Spree, which the choreographer Sasha Waltz and her longtime collaborator and partner, the dramaturg Jochen Sandig, converted into a multipurpose art venue a decade or so ago. Though I have visited the space on numerous occasions in the past, the spacious lobby, as well as the expansive performance hall of Radialsystem, seems almost unrecognizable, having been stripped of the usual vestiges of a performance venue. I am here to see EXODOS, a new immersive dance-theater work by Waltz, and to speak with her about her company’s upcoming US premiere of Kreatur, which lands at the Brooklyn Academy of Music in early November as part of the Next Wave Festival.
New narrative dance productions—as opposed to abstract or “pure dance”—exist in a kind of netherworld these days.