Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker’s Cesena starts off with a screaming man belting out tribal-sounding chants, then later running in a circle while the audience watches in near complete darkness, barely being able to see the action on the stage.  After doing a little research to more familiarize myself with De Keersmaeker’s work, I learned that this darkness (which later turns into light) is intended to signify the time just as the dawn is about to break.  From behind, the rest of the dancers enter stage, singing with arms over shoulders.  The skin of the dancers sketches incomplete drawings for us, and it is this and only this that gives us some idea of what action is occurring on stage.

The dancers and singers that were a part of Cesena made great use of the stage.  Much of the performance revolved around or in the circle, be it dancing in synchronicity around the circle made of sand, running around the circle, or gathering as a group inside of the circle swaying back and forth, arms over shoulders, and so on, but once the sand was moved around, the dance broke from the circle and turned into a full use of the stage.  I found it beautiful each time a dancer glided over the circle, leaving the sand displaced and tearing the shape apart.

The circle is where almost all of the interactions took place, as opposed to outside where the dancers were almost always unaccompanied.  I noticed that the movements outside of the circle were more disjointed than those inside of the circle, which were graceful and gentle.  I can’t say for sure what the intent was behind the piece, but the way I read into the circle and the motions we saw on stage, I saw a metaphor for inclusion vs. exclusion: when you’re in the circle (like in a social setting), you’re surrounded by others; when you’re out of the loop, you are alone.  It is only within this circle, or group, that you are a member of something larger than yourself.  I’m sure I’m way off key here, but that’s how I interpreted it.

I think the piece could be broken up into three elements: dance, light, and sound.  Both the lighting and the singing were integral components of the dance.  Before the lights came on, we were eagerly waiting in the audience to see what was going on on the stage.  I could see traces of people, but my main focus was directed towards the choral component.  The audio was beautiful throughout the piece, but especially during the dark periods on stage, it added emotion and kept my attention.  The minimalistic use of lighting added excitement for me because I couldn’t see everything that was happening, but I could hear footsteps and vocals and glides, and all types of movements.  The idea to use lighting the way it was was terrific.

I found Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker’s Cesena to be very lively and enjoyable.  Although I am a novice when it comes to analyzing dance and wasn’t able to fully grasp what De Keersmaecker was trying to achieve, I truly respected and appreciated all of the elements and thoughts she put into her piece and left the theater feeling satisfied.

Kyle (Blog B)

As a man stood in the almost complete darkness, squatting down and singing in a shrill, high- pitched voice, I was admittedly confused and unsure what to make of what I was seeing.  Soon after this, he began running around the stage and it became visible that he was completely naked.  I was very taken aback by this entrance.  However, Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker’s performance went on to be a graceful display of dance that utilized motion, sound, and lighting in a way that I found to be fascinating.

One of the motions that seemed to be continually used throughout the performance was running or scampering across the stage, often from under the light into the darkness.  I found it interesting how when one dancer would run across the stage, it seemed to impact every other dancer and they would all begin to scamper about as well.  The way the dancers moved often appeared to have an influence on what the others would do and it was beautiful to observe how all of their movements came together.  Another pattern that I noticed within the dancer’s motions was a lot of going down to the floor and, more specifically, sliding on the floor.  It was evident that they were sliding often by how distorted the chalk circle on the stage was by the end of the performance.  Because all of their movements were centered around the circle, the dancers were often sliding across its lines and smearing chalk wherever they moved.

The sounds that could be heard while watching Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker’s also contributed incredibly to the show.  A lot of these sounds went hand in hand with the motions of the dancers.  During the first part of the show, the stage was mostly enveloped by darkness and it was very difficult to see what the dancers were doing unless they were directly under the small light.  It was very difficult to trust my own eyes and I often found myself listening to the noises the dancers made as they moved to figure out where they were on stage or what they were doing.  The noises that they made as the slid across the floor or scampered around the stage became very important to try and follow what they were doing at all times.  The other aspect of the sounds in this performance which was significant was the dancers’ singing.  The music seemed to create a serene or graceful atmosphere and reminded me a lot of church music.  This once again coincided nicely with the dancers’ movements, because whenever the music began, their movements appeared to become more graceful and elegant to reflect what the audience was hearing.

Finally, another influential part of the dance was the lighting, or lack thereof.  The beginning part of the performance used only a small light in the front center of the stage, which made it difficult to see any dancers who were not in that exact position.  It was also very difficult to make out any specific details about the dancers, such as what they looked like or their costumes.  Although this was intentional, it was often very frustrating to not be able to see the dancers and I did not really enjoy the beginning of the performance because of this.  I obviously was not the only person who held this opinion, as someone unexpectedly yelled out from the audience that they felt the same way.  However, the next part of the show saw a gradual increase in the amount of light until the entire stage was illuminated.  I found this to be much more enjoyable, as we were now able to observe all of the dancers, as well as their costumes and their movements.

Overall, I found Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker’s to be an enjoyable experience.  The way in which motion, sound, and lighting all came together was truly captivating and impressive.  Although I did not exactly understand the choices in the beginning to open with the naked man or use a mostly dark stage, the performance went on to display a lot more graceful and beautiful dancing, especially when the lights came on to illuminate the stage.

Brandon Fiscina (Blog B)

A man stood on stage, alone and in the dark. A dimly lit stage cast an eerie glow on him as he projected a series of notes. He was eventually accompanied by the rest of the dancers, as they remained in this dark setting. Thus, the performance began.

Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker’s “Cesena” was a piece that utilized setting as a fundamental aspect of the dance performance. The piece was also greatly reliant on the musical score that was present for the majority of the performance. These two elements greatly enhanced the piece. Overall, I was impressed by the skills of the dancers and felt that the dance was skillfully intertwined with the music. However, I also felt that something was lacking. Perhaps this is because I am a novice to the dance world, yet I felt that there was a sense of restraint in movement, as the dancers were often moving at an either slow pace, or would remain in one position or location on the stage for a period of time. Occasional, transient outbursts of movement were fleeting.

One aspect of setting was a white, circular formation. It appeared to be a sand-like substance, and was an integral part of the piece. As the circle was in center stage, much of the dance revolved around, within, or outside of this constructed boundary. By the end of the performance, the powder had transformed from a neatly arranged circle to a ragged, uneven outline, having been kicked over, rolled into, and brushed along. Initially, the sand seemed to confine the dancers, as the beginning of the dance consisted of the movement of the dancers towards the audience then back into the unlit portion of the stage, all within the bounds of the drawn circle. As the dance progressed, movement was not limited to this region, and the circle rather became a transition region where dancers would pass. Perhaps the circle was a physical manifestation of the commonalities that unite all human beings. In fact, it was within and around this circle where most interactions between the dancers occurred.

Another aspect of setting that had a powerful effect was the lighting. The initial lighting seemed reminiscent of moonlight, evoking a sense of mystery and wonder. This seemed to be fitting and made the piece more accessible in way, as this sense of wonder paralleled what usually accompanies an audience at the start of a performance. The lighting was gradually brightened (at one point it may have been the result of an audience member who shouted to turn up the lights). The initial light setting that only illuminated a small region of the stage gave the impression that there was a wide expanse of space beyond the light. Yet as the lights were turned on, the stage resembled a dance studio, with the exposed ceiling pipes and walls. This transition to a more concrete setting seemed to run in line with the dance. Both seemed to suggest a graduation to the commonalities of human nature.

A final aspect of the setting was the musical score, which was a strength of the piece. The music was very intricately blended in with the movements of the dancers as a collective whole, and added to the flow of the piece. The ethereal nature of the score added to the initial sense of wonder that was first introduced by the minimal light setting.

The dancers seemed to use techniques similar to those from a rehearsal of John Jasperse’s we were privileged to see. For example, when two dancers were performing together, while their movements were not identical, at certain points, their positions or angles would align immaculately. There was a combination of intimacy and polarization of the dancers. There was a segment where one dancer was clearly being ostracized by the others, yet this was followed by a segment when all the performers clustered together into one unit and moved as one. This was very powerful for me and seemed to send a message of optimism and hope for peace. It seemed to convey that despite differences and clashes in ideologies, working together as one being is still possible.

Overall, as a result of the light setting, music, and locality of the dancers, the dance imbued a message of encouragement and optimism for the unity of humanity.

~Prima (Blog B)

In analyzing Rambert’s history of economics through dance I am left dazed and confused. The dance, if it can even be called a dance, begins with a very macabre performance about the death of a woman’s mother, which left a bitter taste in my mouth. Then she began to do this interesting cutting motion with her hands but never expanded on the movement and performed it multiple times, along with rest of the group of people who have assembled on the stage by this time; this happened approximately when the cutting motion began and the disgusting soliloquy about the mother.

The dancers seemed to be doing random movements such as opening cupboards, brushing their teeth, or stretching, and then the philosopher comes out onto the stage, out of nowhere. He begins to discuss economics with us and informs us that this won’t be a lecture. Personally I had a difficult time listening to him because of his accent coupled with the dancer’s continual motion, making it difficult to process what he was saying and what the dancers were doing.

Because it was difficult to understand what he was saying I was only able to understand two ideas enough to write about them. The first was his idea that economics was the exertion and portraying of power and control over someone else, and for that reason things like interest exist, as well as the loan in the first place, and further, that trading itself comes from this idea of a power struggle. I found this idea distasteful because economics is rationality and selfishness explained in technical jargon along with some graphs and charts. I believe in attaching this idea of economic transactions being exercises in posturing, Rambert’s focus or way of seeing is not one that I am interested knowing about, simply because I think it is looking at economics in a novel, but disagreeable lens. It is a point of view that is not worth exploring, at least not in the way Rambert does it.

The second idea was when the philosopher mentioned the expression love is blind, saying that it was in fact the opposite; that it is when we see something that nobody else does that we are in love. I don’t know how this fit into the economics lecture because I was grasping at straws for something interesting at this point in the performance when this gem came through. Which brings me to another point, I thought that there were many interesting parts, but I never knew how they fit together or what the point of anything was. I liked the moustaches on the sides of the ladies faces and them talking about investing in the south sea company and smoking on their candlestick cigars; I liked when all the dancers were roaming around the room doing their own things; I liked when we saw the dancers become a machine; I liked how there were different eras of time presented; I like how they explained why the crash of 2006 happened, albeit in a disagreeable way; I liked that the dancers all brought out their possessions and then shouted out what they were; I liked that most of the dancers read something witty at the end of the performance; and yet after liking all of these individual things, I can’t see how they fit together or what the point was.

Was it just a lecture on economics in the last 200-or-so years using “dancers” to play out some interesting scenes throughout this brief history? I think that was all that it was; the dancing didn’t enhance the words that the philosopher was saying, if anything they distracted us from them. The artwork did not speak for itself, we had to have everything explained to us, strangely, by the philosopher, which gave the feeling that we were sitting in a lecture hall where some students happened to be floating around the professor. You want to listen to the professor, but you can’t help but look at the students. And you can’t fully appreciate either the professor’s lecture or the student’s movements.

Not that I think the professors particular speech was appreciable. He seemed to say very little of interest, instead choosing to recite history for us, with very little spin on it by his part, but coming from a skewed and gloomy view of economics. I couldn’t tell if this performance was a dance or a lecture, but in attempting to straddle both realms, it failed to achieve greatness in either.  

Ilizar Yusupov

Blog A

When first looking at Andre Kertesz’s
Rue des Ursins
(1931) I couldn’t see any direct use of the Rule of Thirds, the Golden Ratio or any of the other rules that I was looking for after reading the articles. I’m not really sure what it is about this picture that caught my attention. Some of the other photos that were part of Kertesz’s gallery were far more interesting and pleasing to look at but I guess what made me stop after seeing “Rue Des Ursins” was its simplicity. In my eyes this was just a plain photo that anyone who was in that particular time and place could’ve taken.

When I tried to apply the rule of thirds, I picked out the two probably most typical possible subjects, the woman with the cat and the doorway of this building. These two things seemed to be close enough to the lines but not enough to really draw my attention. Then I realized that I was ignoring the vocal point of the photograph, the sign. After I realized that the sign was on the upper right intersection of the horizontal and vertical lines that make up the Rule of Thirds I realized some other parts of the rule that the photographer knowingly or even accidentally incorporated.

If you look at the picture the doorway takes up the right portion of the frame, most of the alleyway takes up the left portion of the frame and that the place where the bottom of the building meets the sidewalk is also the bottom horizontal line. If you turned the photo you could also see how the Golden Ratio is expressed with the sign, also the title of the photo, being the beginning of the spiral, then moving on to the lettering at the top of the building, to the doorway and then ending with the woman next to the cat.

I personally think its an art how the photographer was able to use these rules and take a photo that followed them without it being outwardly apparent that this was his objective. I’ve always considered photography as an art form and while I consider myself a very creative person, I never understood how to be creative with this medium. Without directly modifying and editing a photo it seemed impossible to express anything, which I think art should do, by simply taking a picture of something that already existed. Reading about these techniques has changed that and while preparing my shot for Snapshot day my goal will be to try to recreate what is already right before my eyes in a way that is unique to me.

-Yasmin

Watching the Pascal Rambert piece was a very unique experience. I wasn’t expecting the type of performance that I saw and while my immediate reaction was a wave of confusion, after seeing the whole thing, while still disappointed, I at least understood a little of what I saw. The piece, instead of a dance, was more of a theatrical lecture on some of the basic principles of economics. It began very dramatically with one French woman speaking about what I interpreted as the death of her father. I actually liked this opening scene and it got my hopes up to see something very intense but after I saw what looked like everyday people walking on from different sides of the stage mimicking her actions like zombies I was quickly let down.

During the performance there were various demonstrations where a man would come out and explain some theories. It was interesting how in the beginning he stated that he didn’t want us to feel like we were being lectured however that was exactly what he did. Surrounded by people doing the oddest movements, I guess in the directors opinion, dancing, he would get out his notebook and give a lecture. The informational sessions seemed to drag on and on and it was very easy to block him out and watch what looked like people mimicking everyday activities, or writing for some unknown reason. It may have interested some people but what he was saying didn’t catch my attention enough to correctly process all the information that was given.

At what I thought was the end, the performers read what they had written during one of his final speeches and then after a strange change in music choice, they acted out a scene of an angry man whose family had just been evicted. While it was one of the most clear scenes in the whole piece and very striking, still after expecting a dance performance and then seeing all that I had throughout the whole thing I still wasn’t very impressed. Honestly I think that if we had been properly informed in what we were about to see, I would have appreciated it more. How can economics be expressed though dance was our classes question and after watching the Pascal Rambert piece I still don’t know.

-Yasmin

Pascal Rambert’s A (micro) history of world economics, danced was the first dance performance I have ever seen. I went into the La Mama Theater in the dark, not really knowing what to expect for this performance. I walked in curious, excited to see how Rambert would compact the “collective economic history over centuries” into a 90-minute piece.

As perceived by the title, there was a decent amount of information about economics taught to us by philosopher Méchoulan. His lectures usually took place with the same music playing in the background and the mass of dancers moving about around him as they acted out activities that they would do within their daily lives. I listened and focused on Méchoulan during his his first few lectures but by the middle half of the performance, I couldn’t help but drown out his voice with the music and the movements of the dancers. I’m not exactly sure if Rambert purposely put Méchoulan’s lecture within the collection of movements to show the population throughout the world that continues on with their lives without really understanding the current economy, but I feel like doing so might have had the counter effect because I ended up getting distracted by the dancers whenever Méchoulan would talk. “Lecture” is probably the only proper word to describe Méchoulan’s spew of information; all the talking took away from the “dance” quality of the piece – I felt like I was sitting in class more than watching a performance.

Among the eventually dreary speeches, I did appreciate the dancers that comprised the background scene. I loved the diversity among the dancers, from the little girl to the older woman who lead the choir, from the young Asian man who wore a dress shirt and slacks to the middle aged woman with bleached blonde hair and sparkly leggings. These contrasts among the dancers made the environment much more unique. One of my favorite parts of the performance was when the dancers, who were originally all individuals, found another dancer to pair with and hold for a moment before continuing on. After this, a series of performers came up one by one to the microphone to reveal to us what they had been writing on their papers earlier on in the performance. I remember one woman said, “I do not call myself an artist. That is a name I will let others put upon me if they wish. Artist – it’s a big place, perhaps I am always traveling towards it.” That line struck me because I realized that these performers themselves were moving out of their usual comfort zones themselves. They might each have different artistic talents but for this piece, a good handful of them might have been doing this type of “experimental dance” for the first time. These short readings made the performance much “softer” and personable, very different than the atmosphere created earlier by the impersonations by the 3 French performers and the lectures by Méchoulan.

Although I did not find the overall piece very cohesive or interesting, I feel like the choir helped make up for many of the downfalls. The organized singing and timings of the choir helped balance back out the distractions and somewhat “chaotic” qualities of the piece. Rambert’s piece was different than what I would’ve thought a dance performance would’ve been, it seemed more like a theater piece than a dance. In the end, I will still say I left La Mama with a smile because I really enjoyed the addition of the choir and the varied population of dancers.

-Winnie Yu (Blog A)

Pascal Rambert’s A micro(history) of world economics, danced tried to combine many elements of theater and dance together in a unique and sometimes abstract conglomeration. However, it lacked much cohesion and felt quite disjointed at most times. Additionally, the immense amount of activity during some stages was extremely jarring and often distracting. The acting and musical talent in this piece could not carry what ultimately, was not dance, but display of poorly glued parts that fell apart.

With a title like A micro(history) of world economics, danced, one would think that dance would be the strongest suit in this performance. However, if anything, it tore the weak strings struggling to keep everything in one piece. Whenever dance was featured, which was quite rare to begin with, it seemed thrust into a scene that really did not welcome it. This was common during the lectures of Eric Mechoulan. The juxtaposition of his speaking and the dancing did not meld well because I would often accidentally drown out what he was saying because I was focusing on someone’s dancing. That eventually led to confusion once I switched my attention back to the speaker. This happened frequently.

The music and acting, although not the focal point of the show, did very well in relation to the other elements. The harmonious chorus and humorous acting kept me very interested in between the lectures. Both kept me interested when the disjointedness of the performance lost my attention. The chorus sounded very beautiful and the background music did well to communicate the overall atmosphere of the scene. The acting was my favorite element. It combined a unique use of props with expert line delivery and use of facial expressions to make very humorous and ultimately educational scenes in history. The use of fake moustaches whenever the female actors were playing males were very entertaining and their placement was a simple but effective choice. With music and acting as the performance’s strengths, it’s a wonder why the title chose to emphasize the dance segment.

Although Rambert’s A (micro)history of world economics, danced had it’s strengths and faults, the ultimate weakness was its lack of cohesion. With a poorly connected clump of theatric, musical and dance elements, this show was doomed to fail. The concept of this performance made me very interested and curious as to what the show would bring, but if the “dance” did not have much dance, I fail to see what it wanted to accomplish.

-Stanley Chen (Blog A)

Pascal Rambert’s A (micro) history of world economics, danced was a difficult piece to fully appreciate. I was impressed by many of its foundational aspects–the quiet power of using dozens of diverse performers, the didacticism of Éric Méchoulan’s lectures on economic philosophy, the supplementary background music and vocal performance. But at the same time, I struggled to understand how all these various qualities of the performance came together as a representation of world economics. Certain portions of the performance were straightforward: Méchoulan’s lectures were clearly referring to economic theories and ideas, the anonymous performers were intended to symbolize the varied population of New York City (or perhaps the world?), and the section in which all the performers presented one object that belonged to them was supposed to represent the materiality of ownership and property. Yet so many other parts of the performance seemed abstract and nearly irrelevant to the ideas being posited in the teachings. I was confused for much of the first half of the performance because I couldn’t reconcile the various skits being performed by the three lead actresses with the symbolic gestures/hand movements prevalent throughout the entire piece. I had trouble differentiating between the various characters the performers portrayed and I found some of the portrayals unnecessary, overstated, and even distracting (such as the demonstration of an item exchange between 3 islands or the extended sequence in which all the performers were jumping simultaneously).

The word “inconsistent” came to my mind often while I watched this perhaps over-extended 90 minute performance. The last 30 minutes of the performance were highly engaging and I was particularly delighted by the confession-like section in which some of the nameless performers came up to a microphone to talk about moments in their lives. I was taken by the intimacy and surprising personableness of the speakers and the stories they had to share (particularly the Asian man who loved Carrie Underwood!) This section struck me too because it contrasted so greatly with the rigidly structured and heavy-handed nature of the skits. I found a reprieve of sorts from these belabored and over-exaggerated characterizations in the normalcy of the feelings and moments that the performers discussed. I also felt this way about the object presentation section because so many of the objects reminded me of items in my own home that are significant to me for various personal reasons. I found myself able to relate more easily to the performers during these glimpses of simple honesty that lent a greater sense of accessibility to the performance as a whole.

I say that Rambert’s piece is inconsistent because it took over half of the performance time to even reach this more relatable portion of the performance. Although there were many humorous and entertaining parts, sprinkled with good acting and beautiful choral singing, these individual sparkling moments were overshadowed by the fact that the performance was esoteric and difficult to grasp at several instances. Méchoulan’s lectures, while interesting, were also sometimes very abstract and theoretical. As someone with little background in economics aside from introductory/basic concepts, I felt overwhelmed by all the terminology and theories, especially because there was so much else going on simultaneously on the performance floor. These more convoluted aspects of the performance made it harder to have an overall positive impression of the piece. Despite the fact that I felt the last half hour of the performance made up for many of its shortcomings, I couldn’t help but feel like the performance didn’t come together as one coherent piece in my mind. I was grappling with the connections from scene to scene and in the end felt like I was trying to force ideas together that didn’t really belong. I am impressed by Rambert’s ambition and vision in constructing a performance piece about economics, but it ultimately lacked the underlying uniformity and coherence that could have made it brilliant.

–Norine Chan (Blog A)

Andre Kertesz’s The White Horse is a beautiful example of photography done right. From the rule of thirds to the seemly simple composition, this photo really exemplifies a mastery of photography and visual spacial recognition.

From the start, you can see the rule of thirds being used to emphasize the contrasting themes in this photo. The tree takes up one third of the space while the architecture and other artificial figures take up the rest of the space. This tells you that the emphasis is on the cityscape. It’s also interesting to mention that the rule of thirds also is not used to emphasize any of the figures in the photo. Instead, the lack thereof fits into the photo’s message of the contrast between nature and the urban environment. Two of the points of contact are on natural figures (the tree and the bushes) while the other two are on artificial structures (The road and the fence).

There are also many examples of pointing in this photo as well. The most obvious one is the umbrella pointing towards the dog and a lady walking. The branches on the tree also work to point towards those two figures as well. There are even examples on the fence and the roof towards the bottom of the photo. They all point towards the center of the photo to emphasize not only the people walking but the road as well.

The title of the photo, “The White Horse“, is still a fit title. The color contrasts in this photo brings out the whites and dark blacks in this photo. Therefore, the emphasis on the black focuses on the shadows of the dogs while the whites bring out the fence and the white horse. The fence creates a barrier between the two other figures. It adds to the emphasis on the contrasts of nature and the cityscape. A woman in business attire walking a dog (man’s best friend?) is a very city-related activity. On the other side of the fence, the horse is a symbol of the pastoral and rural. However, it’s very out of place in this photo. It even looks like it is on the edge of leaving. The fact that it is not emphasized in the rule of thirds only adds to how out of place it is. There’s a struggle for attention between the woman and the dog and the horse. The careful melding of nature with city seems to add to the argument that both seem to be alive and well.

“The White Horse” uses some aspects of photography like the rule of thirds, but chooses to leave some out in order to create a contrast between the two opposing forces in this photo: nature and man. The focal point in this photo is the white horse, and how it struggles to leave the frame.