Author Archives: elizabethdefuria

Posts by elizabethdefuria

Bausch’s Transgressive Choreography

Posted on September 26, 2017 by elizabethdefuria

Based on my limited exposure to Bausch’s work, I can certainly say that David Jays seems to understand her choreography. To describe Cafe Muller as a “loose, unpredictable montage(s) of scenes, strung together by free association,” seems entirely appropriate. It may feel a bit strange to refer to The Rite of Spring as conventional in any sense, but in contrast with Bausch’s later work, it is certainly less avant-garde.

For one thing, The Rite of Spring does not ask you to reconsider your definition of dance. It is more aggressive and less dainty than, for instance, productions of The Nutcracker that we have all suffered through one December or another, but it is at least partially recognizable as the same medium. There is still synchronization of the company, built around the dynamics of the accompaniment, there is still a linear plot, still a prima ballerina, still the uniform costume. The Rite of Spring, too, stimulates the eyes in the same way a piece of ballet or jazz dance might– creating a living canvas with which the viewer is forced to engage, much like the op art of Bridget Riley or Victor Vasarely. Indeed, there is no hesitation to refer to The Rite of Spring as art– perhaps because people will not hesitate to call anything beautiful, an attractive woman or the view on hiking trip, art. And The Rite of Spring is certainly beautiful, if not a little frightening.

Cafe Muller, on the other hand, lacks all the attributes I first listed. There is little synchronization of the company, the choreography does not seem to correspond directly with the accompaniment, the plot is not linear or traditional (if there even is a plot at all), there is no leader of the company, and no uniform costume. I did not find it to be pleasing to the eye in the way that The Rite of Spring was. Thus, there is some hesitation to put this in the same category as art and dance. It evokes the almost trite, defining question of modern art: what is art? Specifically, what is dance? What is choreography? Because that which I have seen before certainly did not look, or feel, like this.

The Living Collage

Posted on September 13, 2017 by elizabethdefuria

It’s a rather ironic fact that most tourists, when visiting New York City, flock to Central Park. Ironic considering that Central Park, for most residents, is a refuge from the city itself– a place where foliage insulates from the din of car horns and the sing-song sales pitches of street vendors, where the rounded crowns of elms soften the harshness of the piercing city skyline. Central Park is as far as you can get from modern urban life while still being in the heart of Manhattan.

The High Line is not Central Park.

The High Line is almost not a park at all. It’s a living collage.

French artist Marguerite Humeau’s “SPHINX JOACHIM,” which can be found standing guard over West 24th street

This idea of collage can be seen in the above photograph, which is split into three spatial and thematic sections. The lower third contains tall grass, the middle third a sculpture of a sphinx, and the upper third city buildings. So distinct are these three elements, both visually and thematically, that the photo almost appears to be a well rendered collage.

The photograph above, and indeed all of the High Line, operates on the interplay between these thirds. First, there is the dissonance between the perceived opposites of nature and civilization, as seen in the upper and lower thirds. This dissonance is expressed visually in the contrast between the unstructured greenery of nature and the strict geometry of civilization. Where the upper third is composed of straight vertical lines, the lower third consists of curves of varying intensity.

Though this contrast is engaging, the real visual interest of the photo lies with Humeau’s sculpture in the middle third. It is distinct from the surrounding thirds, with more structure than the grass beneath it but lacking in the simple severity of the skyline. The sphinx could be seen as straddling the two worlds of nature and civilization, but instead it synthesizes the photo into one surreal image.

This motif of the bizarre melding with the contradictory characterizes the High Line as the unique space (park, ar

Comments by elizabethdefuria

"The idea that "Café Muller purposely wanted its audience to feel confused and helpless, much like the characters in the dance itself," is really interesting. This isn't unique to Cafe Muller; it happens in all kinds of art, and when it works, it can be extremely powerful. The most common example I can think of is horror movies, where (if the movie is good) we are forced to feel the terror that the characters feel. So many plays, films, pieces of music, and dances rely on a certain degree of empathy from the audience. Cafe Muller doesn't ask you to be empathetic, but rather forces you to feel the confusion and helpless of its characters. It's really cool that you noticed this, as I just felt confused and helpless and stopped there."
--( posted on Sep 26, 2017, commenting on the post The Form of Pina Bausch )
 
"It was really interesting to read your take on the complimentary nature of nature and industry in the High Line, as this is something that I also picked up on. The idea that nature and industry "make each other beautiful" is something that I agree with completely. On their own, neither (though still lovely) is as stunning, but the contrast between them is what makes the High Line so amazing."
--( posted on Sep 13, 2017, commenting on the post Breaking the “Threshold” )