Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.09.2015, Blaðsíða 50

Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.09.2015, Blaðsíða 50
The Reykjavík Grapevine Issue 14 — 2015 July 11 – Oct 25, 2015 Ingólfur Arnars- son + Austurvegur 42, 710 Seyðisfjörður, www.skaftfell.is Skaf t fe l l – Center fo r V isua l A r t Open daily Admission is free Jul-Aug 12.00 – 18.00 Sep-Oct 12.00 – 16.00 Þuríður Rós Sigurþórs- dóttir And by appointment 18 However, while the production values were top-notch, much of the festival was somewhat inaccessible—much like most contemporary art. Art is a peculiar indus- try in that it’s not a product that needs to be sold to an audience-consumer, which is good because modern dance doesn’t sell like hotcakes. But, as I was happily going from one show to the next at an amazing festival—one I had to continually remind my Reykjavík-dwelling friends was even happening—I started to think dance could benefit from a bit more popular appeal. Unlike Michael Bay movies or mon- ster truck rallies, the success or failure of art cannot be judged solely by ticket sales, but rather by factors such as the unique- ness or ingenuity of the work and the nar- rative it communicates. Yet, success or failure within the art industry is judged by entertainment value, and yes, tickets sold. “Every Body’s Spectacular” was a resounding success filled with innovative and conceptual pieces. Each audience was made up of danc- ers, actors and the general public, reflect- ing the collaborative nature of the festival. Some shows managed to appeal to all three demographics without sacrificing artistic integrity, and it makes me ponder what makes a good dance performance. Is it a show that wows seasoned dancers, while leaving casual attendees amazed? Or is it perhaps possible to find something that both groups will equally enjoy? ‘‘Bríet’ I also attended a performance by Anna Kolfinna Kuran, based on letters writ- ten by Icelandic suffragette and women’s rights activist Bríet Bjarnhéðinsdóttir (1856-1940). Entitled ‘Bríet: Up With the Skirts’, the piece was staged as part of the “Firsts” series, which brings together Ice- landic dance and performance makers in the spirit of the RDF and Lókal collabora- tion. In true Icelandic fashion, the show be- gan a few minutes late, so when the doors opened the whole audience was assem- bled in the lobby of the small black box theatre at Iceland Academy of the Arts. We shuffled in, leaving no seat unclaimed; clearly I wasn’t the only one interested in the piece. As we filed in, the four perform- ers were already stood like statues on the stage, surrounded by old suitcases that would be used as props. They were dressed in simple turn-of-the-century clothing—think Downton Abbey maids on their days off. The show began with soft yet dramatic violin music. For me, this was a welcome choice, being both period-appropriate and lacking the pounding rythm popu- lar with many other performances I had caught at the festival thus far. The move- ment was subtle and breathy, and it made use of flocking patterns. The first act had the dancers moving around the stage with suitcases, moving the bags from one spot to the next: a less than discrete symbol of 19th century women’s baggage. The set design for the section detailing Bríet’s founding of Kvennablaðið, a wom- en’s newspaper in Reykjavík, was visually very interesting. The performers pulled long pieces of parchment paper out of the suitcases and painted a simple version of the pattern found at Bríetartorg, based on a sewing pattern designed by Bríet herself. In my opinion, this was a great outcome of the dance-theatre collaboration, one that would likely not have been executed so well were the show distinctly one or the other. The show had a few other high- lights, including a section where three Bríets taunted the fourth performer, now dressed as a male editor, with paper air- planes, as well as two segments that drew connections to #freethenipple. I won- dered what Bríet herself might think of the campaign, and later put the question to Anna Kolfinna. “It has come up a lot in our time working on the piece. Although her ideas were very progressive at the time, she also held tightly onto tradition, and was in a way quite conservative,” Anna Kolfinna told me after the performance. “I don’t think she would understand the #freethenipple movement, as its values really speak for and to the feminist ideals of our time.” ‘Bríet’ dealt with an interesting topic and incorporated good choreography, music and set design. At times, however, it could be a bit... well, dull. More than once, I was distracted by the snoring of a man sitting a few seats away, and I couldn’t exactly see anyone sitting on the edge of their seat. My companion called the show “confusing,” and I found myself surprised that only 45 minutes had passed when the house lights came back on. ‘Schönheitsabend’ After craning my neck watching that unconventional crane piece by Grótta, I arrived at Tjarnabíó for a sold-out perfor- mance of ‘Schönheisabend’ with Floren- tina Holzinger and Vincent Riebeek. En- tering the theatre I was struck by the size of the crowd. It seemed like Tjarnarbíó had expanded, but really I had just never seen it more than half-full before. Packed houses might be nothing special for music festivals or plays at Borgarleikhúsið, but contemporary dance doesn’t usually get this much attention. Later, I learned that this sort of turnout isn’t anything special for Florentina and Vincent. “We always say: we want everybody to get in, even if we have to place out rows of pillows in front. Don’t refuse an audience,” Floren- tina told me. The show had three acts, respectively based on ‘Scheherazade’ (1910), Vaslav Nijinsky’s 1919 final performance, and ‘Af- ternoon Of A Faun’ (1912). Each act started from the Ballets Russes classic, and went on to update it for a modern audience. At the turn of the century, these perfor- mances were considered wildly erotic and violent, but with today’s theatrego- ers jaded by HBO and other uncensored media, they do not elicit the same shock as they once did. Florentina and Vincent’s choreography was able to stay true to the fundamental quality of the original works through choreography, music, costume, and intended effect on the audience. Before reserving a seat for this perfor- mance, I noticed the odd disclaimer on RDF’s website: “Attention: This show has explicit sexual content. Audiences under 18 years are not allowed.” As a sexually lib- erated twentysomething and a supporter of #freethenipple, I assumed this message was quaint reminder to older generations and mothers of seven-year-olds want- ing to see ballerinas in tutus and pointed shoes that this performance would have nudity and suggestive movements—much like the shows it was based on did. Boy, was I wrong. During Scheherazade’s duet with the freed slave, Florentina and Vincent di- verged from Fokine’s original choreog- raphy when Scheherazade donned a strap-on and anally penetrated the slave on stage. Apart from being shocking and sexy, it was actually one of the better duets I’ve seen. As a dance-loving teenager, the bal- cony pas de deux from ‘Romeo and Ju- liet’ ruined me for duets—I decided I’d rather watch paint dry than one more of the kneeling squats Prokofiev called a lift. However, this was a very good duet, pen- etration and all. Both dancers were obvi- ously amazingly strong and technically gifted, and the strap-on created a dynamic where the dancers were forced to remain connected at all times (literally). In the third act I was equally surprised to see a nymph tie the naked faun up in complicat- ed bondage. But again, it was a technically and visually interesting duet that essen- tially had the same effect as the moment in the original choreography when the faun tangles himself up in the nymph’s veil. I was left wondering how art like this performance, which includes explicit sexual acts, is received in a country where strip clubs and pornography are both (technically) outlawed. “People seemed pretty open-minded during the show and comfortable with sexual references or pornographic imagery. We really felt most people went along with it and got the chance to look behind it too,” said Floren- tina. Every Body’s Spectacular. Truly.“Every Body’s Spectacular” was truly spectacular, and wish I didn’t have to wait for the next festival to see new and in- teresting dance in Reykjavík. The festival provided an eclectic mix of performances, largely due to the interesting collaboration with Lókal. But it is always a risk inviting outsiders (read: not dancers) to contem- porary performances. ‘Crisis Meeting’ by Kriðpleir was more of a Lókal piece than an RDFone, leaving the dance critic in me confused and alienated at times. I am sure that this is how outsiders feel watching modern dance performances that slant heavily towards the abstract end. The final performance I attended was ‘Love And Lack Of It’, a part of the ‘Eter- nal’ series by The Professional Amateurs, led by Steinunn Knútsdóttir. Starting with a one-on-one scripted interview between an 11-year-old and a woman reading me- diocre love letters for 40 minutes, it was an epitome of the sort of unapproachable performance art satirised by many of the festival’s other works. While these sort of performances can be neat and interesting for those deep into the theatre or dance community (or those who don’t understand it and want to pre- tend they do), they are indeed extremely unlikely to find favour among the general public. As choreography has developed and evolved as an art form it has become less about stunning an audience with im- pressive steps and lavish sets, and more about the choreographer’s artistic vision and journey. Often this yields a unique performance that incorporates interesting journeys, such as the vision for ‘Song Of Cranes’, but too often they can’t see over the lip of the stage and fall prey to the cli- ché that all pop art must be bad art. Florentina put it best: “Popularity in dance is very relative... yes people from the scene know you, but still the ‘scene’ is pretty small, even quite elitist. We always wonder about our audiences, whether and how to reach other people than just the ‘in’ crowd.” Every Body’s Spectacular, Whatever You May Think Of Their Art As August faded away into an early winter, the Reykjavík Dance Festival (RDF) and the Lókal International Theatre Festival combined their efforts to stage a fantastic five-day event under the heading “Every Body’s Spectacular,” packed with exciting performances and exhibitions. I tried to take in as much as I could manage, and was glad that I did: Each act was creative, professionally put together and well performed—I don’t hesitate to recommend the festival to any fan of the performing arts. Photo Vasco Celio, Casper Hedberg Words Anna Manning REYKJAVÍK DANCE FESTIVAL
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