CorningWorks’ most recent dance performance will undoubtedly communicate something different to each person who sees it. I suspect one can make that statement about most good works of art, but here the tendency of communications to misfire or get misread is the central focus of exploration, so it’s fitting that this piece is perhaps the most communicatively ambiguous of CorningWorks’ compositions to date.
The piece opens with a choreographic version of the game “telephone,” in which a phrase of movement is passed from choreographer-dancer Beth Corning to co-performers Claire Porter, Evan Fisk, and Alberto del Saz, each in turn changing the quality and details of the phrase as they pass it along the line. That game – and the question of how we pass along what we think we’ve understood – recurs throughout the hour-long performance, which movingly meditates both on how the meaning of something can shift as it travels between different bodies and minds, as well as on our failures to connect not only through verbal communication but also through body language.
A duet between del Saz and Fisk performed in the first half of the piece conveyed (to me, at least) something about the reluctance of the two figures to allow themselves to be vulnerable to each other; but later, a repeat of the exact same choreography – with Corning taking Fisk’s place in the duet – seemed (to me) to be about a couple who were in conflict because they were letting each other down. Same choreography, different disconnects. Likewise, the final quartet, guest-choreographed by Victoria Marks, also finds the dancers connected in their lack of connection, as they simultaneously look in disparate directions or seek eye contact where there is none forthcoming.
Some of the other movements might be summed up with the phrase: “words fail.” Porter takes the stage three times as a sweet-sad clown who attempts to gather her thoughts in the form of word balloons that get progressively less obliging as the evening proceeds. A duet between Corning and Porter is prefaced by a comically passive-aggressive conversation between a mother and a daughter, each of whom reads hidden negative meaning into seemingly innocent assertions. A mountain of wooden letters is occasion for a game of word building that quickly becomes chaotic as the dancers are forced to steal letters from each other’s words.
As always with CorningWorks, the choice of music to accompany the choreography is exquisite, perfectly enhancing the emotional pull of each piece (my only wish is that the program would list the titles of the music compositions so I can add them to my playlist!). The four performers each bring their own unique quality of movement to the piece. Yet all four dance with a lovely understated affect which invites you to bring your own thoughts, feelings, and context to bear on what you see and hear and – in line with Corning’s premise – to wonder how large or small the gap is between what this performance “says” and what you “heard.”
Speaking of exquisite music, this past weekend was also Chatham Baroque’s annual “Joy of Bach” concert in celebration of J. S. Bach’s birthday. The concert featured five works: the Prelude and Fugue in C for organ (played magnificently by guest artist Alan Lewis), the Brandenburg Concerto No. 6, the Ricercare à 6 (my favorite of the evening), and two cantatas sung beautifully by bass-baritone Jonathan Woody. The evening of music was gorgeous all around: setting (the Calvary Episcopal Church is a glorious space), musicianship (this is an ensemble at the height of its craft), and selection of oeuvre (the sheer variety of music, from a single composer, was astonishing). I could desire, for your sake, dear Reader, that I had a greater capacity to write from a place of expertise and knowledge about music. Alas, I cannot share more with you than my enthusiasm and delight, and commend this company to you for future performances – join their mailing list and check them out the next time they perform.
The Pittsburgh Tatler 