We talked in studio last week about domain-specific creativity and the possibility of extracting general ideas from those specific activities, ultimately translating the ideas to divergent disciplines through networking. Incidentally, I’ve been watching a few dance films lately, specifically studying how the addition of the camera revolutionizes the relationship between audience and performer. Traditionally in a live setting, a dance might be seen only from certain angles, with some distance necessarily present between audience and performers. In the dance film genre, the camera allows for any and all spatial relationships, which (with some editing) may shift constantly or employ special effects like slow motion or time lapse. In the dance film Amelia, performed by Canadian company La La La Human Steps, the camera not only zooms in for close-ups on eye movements and facial expressions, it also swirls around the dancers as if it were a dancer too. These moments of close-up action are contrasted with distant camera shots from far above or from the opposite side of the room. The audience is in and around the dance in a way that would be impossible live. The Amelia score is composed by David Lang, adjunct composition professor at Yale and 2008 Pulitzer Prize winner. Something I enjoy about the music is how Lang pairs minimalism a la Arvo Pärt and Steve Reich with lyrics from some of Lou Reed’s songs written for Velvet Underground. Although Phillip Scott of Fanfare magazine sums up the work as “abstract,” I think the cinematography and musical score of Amelia together succeed in being both profound and accessible.
What do dance films have to do with new music? I’m not sure yet. The camera allows the audience to be close—even uncomfortably close—to the performers and move around them, almost joining the performance. I equate that to a music performance situation in which traditional boundaries between performer and audience are blurred. Perhaps it means creating a situation where the audience is free to join in the performance, or maybe it means moving the performance out of the traditional context of the concert hall. I’m not assuming anyone is particularly interested in hearing a live performance of my music at the bus stop, but I would be interested to see how people respond. The “audience” in this setting has no obligation to stay and listen or even pay attention; they are free to encounter the art in any way they please. The Dresden Semperoper Ballet has taken works to the public at Potsdamer Platz in Berlin; here they are performing Johan Inger’s Empty House. Semperoper dancers made interesting use of the performance space too; in No Thumbs, they used the nearby escalators as a creative way to enter and exit. Actually, it was a multi-level-plus-escalators performance, since they continued dancing even as they reached the second level. Imagine if Hubbard Street Dance Chicago showed up at Water Tower Place and started dancing Jiří Kylián choreography. I’d like to be there if that happens.
One goal of this type of performance is to create an audience… by ambush. Along these lines, the group Improv Everywhere is pretty good at making a scene. Joshua Bell played in Union Station once, dressed like a typical guy, and didn’t get much notice. In contrast, when percussionist Evelyn Glennie played at Grand Central Station she drew a crowd. Maybe the difference is Bell had his violin case open for donations, and people felt uncomfortable giving money so they didn’t hang around. Or maybe it was the time of day and location. There are probably numerous factors affecting audience interest and involvement in this situation. In any case, the situation might be worth exploration. My point in all this is not to belittle traditional performance settings, but to consider what other performance situations might be possible. The dance film genre offers me a fresh perspective. I feel like the idea is there, but for now I’m lost in translation.
