Editorial – Page 19

Returning To Jacob’s Pillow

July 2, 2013 by 4dancers

20130619_IO_JamalJackson_Christopher.Duggan_043 — Jamal Jackson

by Christopher Duggan

I’ve been waiting 10 long months for this.

Every year, I am so excited to return to Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival, to photograph amazing dancers and festival life and settle back in to our cozy cabin in the Berkshires. For the past two summers, I’ve been blogging about the week’s dance performances, students at The School and more.

But it’s always the performances on the outdoor Inside/Out stage that I look forward to most. Inside/Out is one of Jacob’s Pillow’s most celebrated series, offering free outdoor dance performances four nights a week during the festival season, with each show set in the lush scenery of the Berkshire hills. It’s a pleasure and an honor to make photographs that reflect the grandeur of the Inside/Out experience – watching dance atop a mountain, under the open sky. Especially since outdoor dance scenes have been iconic of Jacob’s Pillow since its founding. (You’ve seen John Lindquist’s photos of Ted Shawn & His Men Dancers, right?)

That’s why I chose to highlight Inside/Out during my photographic exhibition at the National Museum of Dance last year.

It’s great to be back! Especially since this season offers such a rich mix of companies – many I know and love and many I get to meet and photograph for the first time. This past week’s Inside/Out shows included dancer and choreographer Hari Krishnan. He was in From the Horse’s Mouth last year, and he’s become a friend of mine, so it was just neat to see him and photograph his company inDance.

20130626_IO_DancesforVariablePopulation_Christopher.Duggan_023 — Dances for Variable Population

We had fantastic weather for all the shows, too. See more of this year’s Pillow blog series here.

Contributor Christopher Duggan is the founder and principal photographer of Christopher Duggan Photography, a New York City-based wedding and dance photography studio. Duggan has been the Festival Photographer for Jacob’s Pillow Dance since 2006. In this capacity, and as a respected New York-based dance photographer, he has worked with renowned choreographers and performers of international acclaim as well as upstarts in the city’s diverse performance scene.

Christopher Duggan, Photo by Julia Newman

He has created studio shots of Gallim Dance, Skybetter + Associates and Zvidance, among others, and in 2011 alone, he has photographed WestFest at Cunningham Studios, Dance From the Heart for Dancers Responding to Aids, The Gotham Dance Festival at The Joyce Theater, and assisted Nel Shelby Productions in filming Vail International Dance Festival.

Duggan often teams up with his talented wife and Pillow videographer Nel Shelby (http://nelshelby.com). A New York City-based husband and wife dance documentation team, they are equipped to document performances, create and edit marketing videos and choreography reels, and much more.

Christopher Duggan Photography also covers Manhattan’s finest wedding venues, the Metropolitan and Tri-State areas, and frequently travels to destination weddings. The company’s mission is straightforward and heartfelt – create timeless, memorable images of brides, grooms, their families and friends, and capture special moments of shared love, laughter and joy.

His photographs appear in The New York Times, Destination I Do, Photo District News, Boston Globe, Financial Times, Dance Magazine, Munaluchi Bridal, and Bride & Bloom, among other esteemed publications and popular wedding blogs. One of his images of Bruce Springsteen was added to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame’s celebrated photography collection in 2010. His company has been selected for inclusion in “The Listings” in New York Weddings magazine.

Musical Theatre Dance: In The End, It’s About The Process…

June 24, 2013 by 4dancers

"Forget About the Boy", photo by Mandy Love, courtesy of CAM-PLEX — “Forget About the Boy”, photo by Mandy Love, courtesy of CAM-PLEX

by Lauren Warnecke, MS

Choreographing for children’s musical theatre isn’t my dream.

I can’t sing. I never liked jazz class. I’m an ex-bunhead turned squishy modern dancer… musical theatre just isn’t my bag.

Almost ten years ago I got a job at a Jewish Community Center north of the city teaching dance to little kids, and part of the gig happened to include a choreographic residency with their youth theatre company. With a hefty season of three full productions and eight weeks of summer camp, I went from Isadorable to queen of the jazz square – and quickly.

Sometimes you have to let go of your artistic integrity just a little bit when you’re working with kids. I often reflect on all the letting go, the undoing, the molding, the careful nurturing of the seed that would later become the artist I am today.

But then I remember that kids are missing part of their brains and it makes the jazz squares a little easier to swallow. [Read more…]

My Life As A Pillow Person

June 21, 2013 by 4dancers

by Ashley David

After a long seven-hour car ride from Maryland, I was tired, nervous and excited all at once, not knowing exactly what to expect from my new press/editorial internship position at Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival in Becket, Massachusetts. As I got off of the highway onto Jacob’s Ladder Road, a scenic byway in Western Massachusetts, my heart skipped a beat. Between trees, rolling hills and a beautiful lake, everything I saw out of my car window was green or blue. Having lived in only metropolitan-suburban areas outside of Baltimore, MD or Washington, D.C., the abundance of nature both intrigued and frightened me. As I continued driving on this gorgeous byway, now only 15 minutes away from my destination, I could feel the butterflies in my stomach fluttering around. It wasn’t until I saw this famous sign directing me to turn off the road that it finally felt real—I was in for the summer of a lifetime at the Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival!

As I missed the turn for the parking lot to check in (smooth, I know), I happily stumbled upon a view that I had only seen in pictures or videos, the Jacob’s Pillow Inside/Out Stage.

At this point, I could not contain my excitement any longer. I let out a squeal and performed my own little happy dance before heading back towards check in because at that moment, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

As a dance and communication-public relations student at the University of Maryland, College Park, arts administration is something that has always been a driving career goal. While it is not necessarily a path that is offered directly, I have found my own way into that world. I love performing and teaching dance as well, but am most focused on finding the intersection between my passion for dance and skill set in public relations. Here at Jacob’s Pillow, I know the tools and resources are endless for me to explore and learn. [Read more…]

Lessons In Creativity – Outside The Dance Studio

June 6, 2013 by 4dancers

by Emily Kate Long

Another full-time season is over for my company, and another semester has come to an end for the school. Cue the identity crisis! What on earth am I supposed to do with all this unstructured time? How will I prove my worth to myself if I can’t dance every day?

Ordinarily, these thoughts and worse would be running through my head this time of year. Somehow, it’s different now. I have always envied and admired dancers who could maintain a strong (or at least extant) sense of identity through layoffs. Am I finally becoming one? This installment of Finding Balance is a celebration of summer’s not-guilty-anymore pleasures: rest, leisure, creativity, and study. All are enjoyable, all well-deserved, and all are outpourings of myself. Each creative or restorative undertaking teaches me something I can take into the studio. Each makes my dancing more valuable for those lessons.

One of my greatest creative loves outside the dance studio is drawing. Chance brought me to a facilitated figure drawing session in the spring of 2010, and I’ve attended with relative regularity ever since. My rehearsal and teaching schedule this season finally allowed me to get there weekly (or more, if I was lucky) and seeing consistency pay off has been truly rewarding.

Honing another craft to a level I can take pride in is a gift to myself. Facing a blank piece of paper, planning a composition (or not), capturing the gesture of a pose, examining the geometry and architecture of the human form…all these things are so similar to dance, just translated from three dimensions to two. Sensitive consideration of the tools (the dancer, music or dance style on one hand, the pencil, charcoal, model, and paper on the other) makes for a better artistic product and a more enjoyable process in any dimension.

Showing up to those early classes made me nervous! I was mostly learning on the fly, and overwhelmed much of the time. Being in the company of artists I admire and trust kept me coming back. Now, experience and practice have eased those initial fears. I really enjoy how much freedom there is to interpret what’s in front of me once the basics of proportion and tone are more or less in place. As a naturally cautious person, I find a devilish sort of delight in just slapping a bunch of soft charcoal down on the paper and finger-painting with it. Other times I better appreciate the delicate, faintly oily smokiness of graphite, laid down one gentle layer at a time.

Working loosely without a definite goal in mind is not something I’m usually comfortable with. The progress I’ve made under those conditions offers a few lessons to me:

Progress is directly related to consistent practice. Showing up ready to work opens the door to improvement.
Judging my technique against something concrete (Does is look like the model? Is it at least believable as the likeness of a human being?) is kinder than judging it against a vague set of ideals. (Is this great? Is this skillful? Is this perfect?)
In a class with no peers, I am free to judge my progress against myself alone. My work will never look like anyone else’s, and shouldn’t. That knowledge makes me both more confident in and more accountable for my own success.
Analyzing my work, or asking others to analyze it, gives me valuable information about how to use technique. Observing what feelings drawings inspire and why is so much easier with a little perspective.

What I love most about the class is that everyone shows up because we want to create something that day. We arrive needing to express. We get together enough money to pay the model and a little bit of rent, and we make art. It’s such a clear, simple philosophy of creativity. It creates a working atmosphere that’s open, positive, respectful, and vibrant. It reminds me that such a mentality is essential for every art form, and it’s what I try to bring into the ballet studio each morning.

When I pack up my art bag at 9:15 every Thursday night, I take a lot with me. Pride in my new skills, feedback to contemplate, techniques to try, and a generous mottling of charcoal smudges from face to fingers. I treasure all of it.

Readers, what other expressive outlets do you use to enrich and inform your dancing? Please share them in the comments section!

Assistant Editor Emily Kate Long began her dance education in South Bend, Indiana, with Kimmary Williams and Jacob Rice, and graduated in 2007 from Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre School’s Schenley Program. She has spent summers studying at Ballet Chicago, Pittsburgh Youth Ballet, Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre School, Miami City Ballet, and Saratoga Summer Dance Intensive/Vail Valley Dance Intensive, where she served as Program Assistant. Ms Long attended Milwaukee Ballet School’s Summer Intensive on scholarship before being invited to join Milwaukee Ballet II in 2007.

Ms Long has been a member of Ballet Quad Cities since 2009. She has danced featured roles in Deanna Carter’s Ash to Glass and Dracula, participated in the company’s 2010 tour to New York City, and most recently performed principal roles in Courtney Lyon’s Sleeping Beauty, The Nutcracker, and Cinderella. She is also on the faculty of Ballet Quad Cities School of Dance, where she teaches ballet, pointe, and repertoire classes.

Opus 7: The Once and Future Arvo Pärt, Part II

May 18, 2013 by 4dancers

by Allan Greene

(Read part one of this series here)

Part’s works and his crises

Arvo Pärt (pronounced “pair-t”), the contemporary classical composer, insists, as recorded in Arvo Pärt in Conversation (Enzo Restagno, et al., 2010), that in contrast to whatever anybody else takes away from his highly spiritual compositions, he is driven by technical goals; and that the “system” that he devised after 1976, which he calls Tintinnabuli, is meant to prove that “1+1=1”, that in the End is the Beginning. In other words, Happiness is a Cosmic Blanket.

His route to happiness took him through his own extended breakdown, between 1968 and 1976, a span during which he had largely stopped composing. He had already changed direction twice in his short career.

Born in 1935 into an independent Estonia at the fringes of Western culture, he grew up as the Soviets took effective control during the war and then complete control afterward. The Estonian musical community had been pretty much ignored by the powerful and reactionary Composers Union in Moscow. Pärt, however, was a seeker, not an entertainer, and when visiting artists performed and brought recordings and scores of what was happening in the West (Boulez, Stockhausen, Henze, Dallapicola, Berio, and above all Webern), he found the path he was seeking. His early popular success (1960) with a student composition, Nekrolog, which was one of the first twelve-tone pieces written inside the Soviet Union, drew “relentless criticism from elevated cultural circles” (Restagno, p. 14) because it allowed a corrupt Western aesthetic to penetrate the Iron Curtain. A few years later he was trying heterogeneous pieces (Collage on B-A-C-H, 1964) which he described as:

A sort of transplantation: if you have the feeling you don’t have a skin of your own,you try to take strips from skin all around you and apply them to yourself. In time these strips change, and turn into a new skin. I didn’t know where this experiment with the Collages would lead me, but in any case I had the impression I was carrying a living organism in my hands, a living substance, such as I had yet not found in twelve-tone music… But one cannot go on forever with the method transplantation. (Restagno, 17)

He was in a record store (remember those places?) and overheard a short Gregorian chant, just a few seconds of it, as he recalls (ibid., 18).

In it I discovered a world that I didn’t know, a world without harmony, without meter, without timbre, without instrumentation, without anything. At this moment it became clear to me which direction I had to follow, and a long journey began in my unconscious mind. (ibid., 18)

Pärt continued to experiment in the mid-Sixties with works juxtaposing radically different styles, like his Second Symphony (1966), which after the most frightening clashes of sound masses introduces a note-for-note symphonic quotation from Tchaikovsky twice in the final movement.

He gave up on twelve-tone, serial, musique concrète, even Webern-like miniatures, after that, having decided that mid-Twentieth Century New Music was a carrier of “the germ of conflict”. The conflicts had lost their power and meaning for him.

One could say I had come to terms with myself and with God – and in so doing, all personal demands on the world receded into the background. (ibid., 22)

I have come to recognize that it not my duty to struggle with the world, nor to condemn this or that, but first and foremost to know myself, since every conflict begins in ourselves. (ibid.)

And so I set off in search of new sounds. In this way, the path itself becomes a source of inspiration. The path no longer runs outwards from us, but inwards, to the core from which everything springs. That is what all my actions have come to mean: building and not destroying. (ibid.)

In 1968 he composed a Credo (Summa), a work for piano, orchestra and chorus with Latin texts from the Gospels. The Composers Union caught up with him, and soon he was receiving coded threats that investigations were going on at the highest level. This combination of twelve-tone language and Jesus’ suffering proved too provocative for the authorities.

After this I was interrogated several times, and the interrogators repeated the same question over and over again: “What political aim are you pursuing in this work?” (ibid.)

His wife Nora added, “And they added, ‘And do not forget that this work must never again be performed, and you must not offer it to anyone else’”. (ibid.)

Understandably, the confluence of all these doubts and pressures led to his choice to cease composing. This was his nervous breakdown moment, when nothing which had worked for him in the past worked now. [Read more…]

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