hubbard street

The Amazing Adventures of Andrea Class: Reflections Of A New Teacher

September 20, 2015 by 4dancers

by Andrea Thompson

For the past two summers, I have had the distinct pleasure and challenge of teaching in both Hubbard Street’s level III intensive and the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance’s summer program. This year I taught Hubbard Street 2 repertory in Chicago, aptly named “Andrea Class” in San Francisco, and ballet in both programs. Three summers ago, if anyone had asked me to teach I would have politely and very definitively declined. I didn’t feel ready. I didn’t feel that I was qualified to deliver information as if I were an expert when there was still so much for me to take in from my teachers and peers. After all, I felt, those who are designated as educators in this field should be both veterans of their subject matter and skilled orators, imparting tried-and-true wisdom to their earnest disciples. Though I had tried a lot of things, I hadn’t yet decided what my truths were. As it turns out, two years into my teaching journey I still haven’t, and every time I teach I seem to be amassing evidence that that’s not actually an essential element of it.

What is truth?

What I mean by “truth” is settling on a single approach based on years of building expertise in a particular movement vocabulary/philosophy. There’s certainly value in the long-term, deep study of one such language, just as there is value in having years of experience teaching. With experience come strategies for how to best communicate with and reach dancers of all age groups, skill levels, and dispositions. But in terms of class content and structure, I believe that there are infinite ways to go about challenging students to learn and grow and engage with dance. Personally, my relationship with it has been kept vibrant by the regular overhauling of the perspectives I’ve absorbed, since I have been lucky enough to come across new approaches to dance every few years of my career.

In the current climate of the contemporary genre it seems an urgent necessity to examine and utilize all the information I’ve engaged with, rather than decide that one system or movement language is more valid than another. It stands to reason that in order to stay relevant, delivering the multifarious ideas I like to employ requires a class structure that is fluid.

Reading the room

Needless to say this makes planning a little difficult. And as essential as planning is – more on that later – this summer I found that reading the room while teaching trumps nearly everything else in terms of importance. Depending on how the student-teacher interaction is going, handling the expectations of 30 trusting young dancers can feel like a huge responsibility – or a solo stand-up comedy show, a giant improv score, herding cats, accidentally going onstage naked, being lost in a foreign country, suddenly becoming an omnipotent wizard, a rock concert, or a psychological experiment in which the roles of subject and scientist are unclear.

It’s a constant conversation, and the same way that you would adjust your wording if you see you’re not getting your point across, or your listener is getting bored, you adjust your words or your physicality or your plan for the day in order to arrive at your point in class. On the other end of the spectrum, there’s this weird power of insistence that you have as a teacher that you might not use in polite conversation with a peer. I was surprised to find that sometimes, “try harder,” “stick with it,” and “just do it because I say so” were valid and effective demands that produced dramatic results. The beautiful simplicity of setting higher expectations in the room could be just as enabling of student improvement as wracking my brain for synonyms of the same idea and the resultant assumption that I, as a teacher, was failing to articulate what was needed.

But regardless of my ambitions for the environment I wanted to create and the growth I wanted to facilitate, this summer with Andrea Class I had to come up with the “what” of the class as well as the “how.” Most of my plans for Andrea Class began with an objective: a larger idea about dance or performance I wanted to explore, or a result I wanted to curate for the students, i.e. a feeling of freedom, the joy of digging into effort, or mastering some ubiquitous elements of floorwork. I compiled exercises that lent themselves to that end, mixing things I’d done before with new games and improv tasks. Next came playlist planning, since I have yet to find a streaming service whose musical tastes match my own. Occasionally I made a phrase to provide context for the research and highlight movement pathways I felt would be beneficial to work on.

The “plan-n-scrap method”

After all that, most of my Andrea Classes played out thusly: armed with ideas and music, I would begin, and within a few minutes of moving around together surveying my surroundings, realize the majority of my planning was useless. I had picked the wrong theme of the day, or there was something else lacking in the atmosphere that needed to be addressed. I once played an improv game called “what the room needs,” and never has there been a better time to use it than while teaching, even if I’m the only one playing. After a handful of unsuccessful-feeling classes in which I stuck rigidly to my curriculum, I started applying that idea to my teaching and consequently scrapped most of my plans. I began to trust that my own experiences as a professional dancer (and not-too-distant student) would work together with my instincts and empathy to steer the spontaneous class structure. I tried to dance as much as possible in my classes so I could feel what I was asking of my students, and I found that my physical participation was often a better indicator of what needed to happen next than what I could divine from the front of the room. My dancing was also, I found out, much more effective than words in helping people figure out unfamiliar pathways in floorwork.

This plan-n-scrap method is evidenced in the hilarious log I kept of my Andrea Class teaching. In it I wrote my idea for each class followed by what actually happened when I got in there. I always started with a plan, and what I discerned was that my brain needed to go through the steps of making it in order to kickstart itself into curious-leader mode. Inevitably by the time class began my thoughts would be miles down the road from where they started, but my cranial engine did not rev up properly unless I truly applied myself to planning. My own class-taking within the Conservatory’s summer program also sparked ideas about what does and doesn’t work in dance education, and what my optimal role might be within the existing structure of it. Some of my reflections emerged days later while teaching, having stewed subconsciously until the right opportunity presented itself. Another advantage to all the planning was that I knew if I ever choked, I had not just a plan B written down, but C, D, E, and F to choose from.

At SFCD I had the luxury of working consistently with the same group of people over the course of four weeks. We got to know each other, trust each other, sweat together, grow together. I haven’t taught any “Andrea Classes” outside of that program, but I’m now very interested in continuing to explore my teaching voice as an ongoing aspect of my development within this field.

I almost wrote “find” my teaching voice, but I have a feeling that for as long as I continue to teach, I will never fully pin down my approach to dance or dance pedagogy as an absolute. It feels like the discoveries I made about myself as a teacher this summer have already begun to influence my own dancing, and have set the course for my approach to shift once again.

I once heard the brilliant ex-Forsythe dancer Christopher Roman confide to a teaching colleague, “I’m always changing my mind. I can’t do one thing today and expect it to still feel right tomorrow, but if it was right for that moment then it was the right thing.” So it went with my Andrea Classes this summer, and so it goes with my Andrea Teaching. Having moved past the fear of unpreparedness from three years ago, I’m now looking forward to charting the unknown seas ahead.

Contributor Andrea Thompson trained at the American Ballet Theatre’s Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School, the Ailey School, and the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance. Those schools and programs with Springboard Danse Montréal, Nederlands Dans Theater and Batsheva Dance Company brought opportunities to perform works by William Forsythe, Ohad Naharin, Alex Ketley, Christian Burns, Marina Mascarell Martinez, Gregory Dolbashian, Idan Sharabi, Danielle Russo, and Robyn Mineko Williams.

Professionally, Andrea has danced with the Foundry, Zhukov Dance Theatre, and LoudHoundMovement. Most recently she danced with Hubbard Street 2, where she performed works by Loni Landon, Alex Soares, Alejandro Cerrudo, Ihsan Rustem, Bryan Arias, and Victor A. Ramirez. She joined Shen Wei Dance Arts this spring.

Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival 2014 – Hubbard Street Dance Chicago & Compagnia TPO

July 9, 2014 by 4dancers

by Nel Shelby

What a wonderful week at Jacob’s Pillow! We’re uploading footage of the Pillow’s awesome and illuminating post-show talks each week, and I’m sharing them on my blog. Learn more about all of the dance companies performing this festival season, and see some highlights from their shows edited into the Post-Show Talks, too.

This past week, our daughter Gracie saw FIVE shows of Compagnia T.P.O. and performed in each of them, and my husband Christopher Duggan continued to photograph amazing dancers.

Here, watch Hubbard Street Dance Chicago & Compagnia TPO discuss their phenomenal shows:

Contributor Nel Shelby, Founder and Principal of Nel Shelby Productions, is deeply dedicated to the preservation and promotion of dance through documentation of live performances, fully edited marketing reels, live-stream capture, and documentaries and films that encapsulate the essence of nonprofit organizations.

Nel Shelby, Photo by Matthew Murphy — Photo by Matthew Murphy

Her New York City-based video production company has grown to encompass a diverse list of dance clients including American Ballet Theater II, Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Company, Gallim Dance, Gotham Arts, Kate Weare and Company, Keigwin + Company, Monica Bill Barnes Company, The New York Public Library for the Performing Arts, Shen Wei Dance Arts, Wendy Whelan and many more. She has filmed performances at venues throughout the greater New York area including The Joyce Theater, New York Live Arts, Lincoln Center, Symphony Space, St. Mark’s Church and Judson Church, to name a few.

For nearly a decade, Nel has served as Festival Videographer for the internationally celebrated Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival in the Berkshires. Each season at the Pillow, Nel’s responsibilities include documenting aspects of festival culture in addition to its 20 mainstage dance performances, filming and overseeing documentation of more than 100 free performances and events, managing two dance videography interns and an apprentice, and educating students about the technical and philosophical aspects of filming dance.

She also serves as Resident Videographer at the Vail International Dance Festival where she spent her first summer creating five short dance documentary films about the festival in addition to documenting its events and performances. Her longer-form, half-hour documentary on Vail’s festival, The Altitude of Dance, debuted on Rocky Mountain PBS in May 2013.

She has created four short films for Wendy Whelan’s Restless Creature, and she collaborated with Adam Barruch Dance to create a short film titled “Folie a Deux,” which was selected and screened at the Dance on Camera Festival in New York City and the San Francisco Dance Film Festival. She is making a dance documentary featuring Nejla Y. Yatkin, called Where Women Don’t Dance.

Nel has a long personal history with movement – she has a B.A. in dance and is a certified Pilates instructor. She continues to train with world-renowned Master Teachers Romana Krysnowska and Sari Pace, original students of Joseph Pilates. In addition to her dance degree, Nel holds a B.S. in broadcast video. She often collaborates with her wonderful husband, dance photographer (and fellow 4dancers contributor) Christopher Duggan on creative projects with dancers in New York City and beyond. They live with their beautiful daughter Gracie and son Jack in Manhattan.

Hubbard Street Dances Kylián

March 15, 2014 by 4dancers

Hubbard Street Dancers Ana Lopez, left, and Garrett Patrick Anderson in Petite Mort by Jiří Kylián. Photo by Todd Rosenberg. — Hubbard Street Dancers Ana Lopez, left, and Garrett Patrick Anderson
in Petite Mort
by Jiří Kylián. Photo by Todd Rosenberg.

by Catherine L. Tully

Thursday evening Hubbard Street Dance Chicago offered up an evening focused completely on choreographer Jiří Kylián at Chicago’s Harris Theater. Two works the company has performed before (27’52” and Petite Mort) and two are company premieres (Sarabande and Falling Angels).

The program is arranged beautifully—working its way back from 2002 to 1989, letting the audience see the choreographer’s development—but in reverse. First on the bill is 27’52” with its stark set, authoritative music and unusual poses. The title of the work refers to its length, but the force supplied by both the movement and the music draws the viewer in, making it feel much shorter.

The flooring is used in different ways here—sometimes as a cover or wrap for a particular dancer, other times as the impetus for the movement itself. Once it even pulls a dancer along the stage, resulting in a forceful type of floating motion—which is oddly compelling.

Kylián uses the spoken word throughout the work, which in and of itself isn’t particularly unusual, but the fact that the recorded voices are those of the original cast gives it a deeper layer, tying past to present dancers each time it is performed.

Petite Mort is the next Kylián work, and it is an audience favorite. The beginning presents a striking image, with six men on stage maneuvering six foils and six women standing in the shadows behind them looking on. Gender roles are on display front and center here, with the men brandishing weaponry and the women darting in and out from behind voluminous black dresses that slide across the stage on wheels. Although most sequences are danced expertly by the company, the eroticism does at times translate more as a series of poses and steps to be executed rather than raw, visceral movement.

Hubbard Street Dancer Johnny McMillan in Sarabande by Jiří Kylián, with Jason Hortin, left, and Jonathan Fredrickson . Photo by Todd Rosenberg. — Hubbard Street Dancer Johnny McMillan
in Sarabande by
Jiří Kylián, with
Jason Hortin, left, and Jonathan Fredrickson
Photo by Todd Rosenberg.

Sarabande begins with a literal bang as six men lay stretched out on the floor, slapping their arms down in unison, as if demanding attention. The women’s gowns are back on display again, but this time they are heavily decorated, hovering over the men–empty–almost haunting. The men roll through a series of postures and poses, ranging from primal, manly screams in unison—to little boys peering at something interesting on the ground.

They dance at times with shirts up around their heads, reminiscent of a miniature Martha Graham costume from Lamentation, and other times with pants down around their ankles. A series of short robust solos is the highlight here, very well executed and supremely powerful.

Falling Angels is the final work of the evening and it features live accompaniment by the steady hands of Third Coast Percussion. While the men of Sarabande seem to alternate between singularity of focus and camaraderie, Falling Angels is a multitasking, tribal marvel. This piece was perhaps the best suited to Hubbard Street, as the women of this company are fierce dancers who hold nothing back.

The choreography is at once aboriginal and contemporary, alternating between African dance movements and a scattershot series of expressions of modern femininity. The women moved in strength—rotating very quickly between shy, sexy, hurried, self-conscious and powerful poses and movements.

Hubbard Street performs at the Harris Theater through March 16th.

Designing For Dance: Hogan McLaughlin

October 4, 2013 by 4dancers

Screen Shot 2013-10-02 at 9.15 — Costume sketch and concept by fashion designer Hogan McLaughlin for
Fluence, choreographed by Robyn Mineko Williams. Courtesy of Hogan McLaughlin.

I can’t recall the exact year I first came across Hogan McLaughlin, but I can tell you that he made quite an impression on me. I was photographing a dress rehearsal for the high school dance company that he was a part of–and whenever I looked through the lens–I kept coming back to him. He exuded energy and charisma, and he was a true pleasure to watch.

Last I had heard he was in New York, but I didn’t know that he switched careers and had become a fashion designer. And I certainly wasn’t aware of the fact that he had produced pieces for Lady Gaga. But then…I can’t really say I was that surprised either.

Some people are lucky enough to have many talents. Hogan is one of them.

On October 10th I’ll attend Hubbard Street’s opening night and get to see his work in person. He has designed the costumes for a new piece by choreographer Robyn Mineko Williams titled Fluence.

Here’s a little peek behind the scenes to see how this project came about. It’s so fun to watch an artist evolve…

-Catherine

How did you wind up designing costumes for this particular piece?

I met Robyn almost 10 years ago, a few years before I joined Hubbard Street 2. After dance, I tried for a career in visual art, but sort of unconsciously fell into a career in fashion instead. I think we’ve always had similar aesthetics, stylistically, so it sort of seemed like a no-brainer for me when she asked if I would be interested in designing her costumes. We had collaborated before on her piece for this past summer’s danc(e)volve: New Works Festival, so I think that was the jumping off point.

What was the design process like in terms of working with the choreographer Robyn Mineko Williams?

It’s an absolute pleasure working with Robyn. She puts all of her trust in her artistic team so I was pretty much given free reign to do whatever I felt best fit the piece. I sat in on a few rehearsals to get a sense of the movement and feel, as well as the relationships that began evolving between the dancers in the work.How does your design flow work? Do you sketch? Use the computer? Walk us through your process…

I’m an idiot when it comes to computers and technology so I prefer to sketch things out. I start with just drawing a body, and then let things come naturally from there. It helps that I know most of the dancers in the cast pretty well, so I tried to highlight each individual in a subtle way.

QBW_MG_4028 — Hubbard Street Dancer Emilie Leriche and ensemble in
Fluence by Robyn Mineko Williams. Photo by Quinn B Wharton.

What about color selection? How do you decide on that?

For my line, and my personal wardrobe, I tend to go straight to black or grey tones. It’s a tough habit to break but luckily the darker metallic tones fit the mood of Robyn’s work nicely.

How did the dancers feel about the costumes?

I hope they like them–ha ha. It was definitely a long process with multiple fittings, especially for the women.

What is next for you?

I’m not sure! These past few months have been especially busy, so I haven’t even begun to think about it- hopefully another cool project!

Hogan McLaughlin - Photo by Cheryl Mann — Fashion and costume designer Hogan McLaughlin. Photo by Cheryl Mann.

Hogan McLaughlin is an American fashion designer, artist, dancer, and musician. McLaughlin grew up outside of Chicago, where he spent his childhood drawing and training in ballet. He joined Hubbard Street 2 in 2006, and was promoted to an apprentice position with the main company in 2008. In 2010, he moved to New York City and garnered acclaim in fashion after meeting and collaborating with brewery heiress Daphne Guinness, who became a champion for his work. He later went on to produce a number of pieces for Lady Gaga, sparking interest and recognition within the fashion community. He released his first full collection in 2011 and has since been profiled by media outlets including Vogue, Women’s Wear Daily and The New York Times.

Hubbard Street’s Summer Series – Complex and Sublime

June 1, 2012 by 4dancers

by Catherine L. Tully

After a strong spring program, expectations ran high for Hubbard Street Dance Chicago’s Summer Series at the Harris Theater. The line-up features three pieces—an unusual collection of choreography that takes the audience on a journey that they are certain to remember for a long time to come.

Choreographed by Alejandro Cerrudo, “Malditos” was originally a collaborative effort between Hubbard Street and Nederlands Dans Theater. Set to music from the film, The Beat My Heart Skipped (composed by Alexandre Desplat), one of the most striking features of this piece is the lighting design by Tom Visser. At times it barely illuminates the dancers—the visual equivalent of a whisper, making the viewer almost lean forward in their seat to watch the movement. Indeed, nothing about Cerrudo’s choreography shouts; it’s not showy even when it’s infused with energy. Instead it melts and dissolves through space, much like the dancers that come and go seemingly out of nowhere from the back of the stage.

Featured next is William Forsythe’s “Quintett” – and Hubbard Street has the honor of being the first American company to perform this work, first created in 1993. Set to U.K. composer Gavin Bryars’ composition “Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet”, it opens with five dancers, a stark white set–and a palpable feeling of discomfort.

HS12530_169 — Hubbard Street Dancers Penny Saunders and Jesse Bechard. Photo by Cheryl Mann.

In an unapologetic fashion, the audience is quickly pulled into this private, intimate setting. Dancers offer brief moments of tenderness, surrounded by explosive, sometimes unsettling sequences of movement. “Quintett” isn’t a passive piece where the audience gazes upon the dancers as they entertain. In fact, giving in to the uncomfortable feelings generated by the droning loop of the soundtrack and the unexpected movement patterns is almost a requirement if any sense of connection is to be found within the piece. This acceptance doesn’t come easily, but with it “Quintett” begins to transform, rewarding the viewer for the struggle.

“THREE TO MAX” is the final piece, originally created for Hubbard Street as a collage of Ohad Naharin’s works over the last decade. From the sensual hip circles seven women perform from a seated position on the floor to the “snapshot” movements that pulse out from a counted vocal rhythm, this is a piece that truly lets the company shine. Jeans, t-shirts and tank tops outfit the dancers in simplicity as they perform movements that range from clock-like ticking of the limbs (complete with vocals) to arabesques with arms that float skyward like a long swath of ribbon suspended in the air.

HSD110310_106 — Hubbard Street Dancer Robyn Mineko Williams in Ohad Naharin’s THREE TO MAX. Photo by Todd Rosenberg

Although the collection of his works here are each quite different they are blended together well, and selecting “THREE TO MAX” as the final piece is a fitting end to a wonderfully executed program. Chicago should be proud—there’s nothing quite like Hubbard Street—and this is a program to prove it.

Hubbard Street Dance Chicago is at the Harris Theater through June 3^rd, which will also be Robyn Mineko Williams’ final performance after 12 years with the company.

What is truth?

Reading the room

The “plan-n-scrap method”

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