Quadrille—Facing Four Ways

        Jason Collins and Victor Lozano in Sequenzas in Quadrilles by Pam Tanowitz. Photo by Yi-Chun Wu.

It may have been the simple addition and subtraction of some seats, and the construction of a floating platform that bridges the house and the stage, but these relatively minor renovations qualify as tectonic shifts in the life of the sole New York stage devoted to dance, the Joyce Theater. Pam Tanowitz's company was the first to take the spotlight in the Joyce Theater's New York Quadrille, a series of four companies chosen by choreographer Lar Lubovitch. (Work by Roseanne Spradlin and Loni Landon completed the series.) Tanowitz recently was given the Juried Bessie Award, which is chosen by a select panel of three, rather than the standard selection committee of 40. 

Tanowitz has been innovating for years, delving into every aspect of dance theater: parsing the forms of ballet (including on point) and Cunningham modern, site-specific work, the interplay between movement and design, and formal spatial exploration. All of these come into play in Sequenzas in Quadrilles at the Joyce, for which musicians (including a harp) of The Knights play selections by Berio and John King live, scattered in various spots on the mezzanine. Davison Scandrett designed the lighting and Suzanne Bocanegra designed the set (including, presumably, a set of small cards with vintage looking landscapes with the dance's geometric lighting scheme depicted, distributed to each audience member).  

The movement flowed on and off the platform from the wings. From my seat onstage, I could see the backstage area and the dancers prepping to enter, or managing not to crash into things as they exited. Tanowitz's work draws strong comparisons to that by Merce Cunningham (MCDC alum Dylan Crossman danced in Sequenzas); she was mentored by Viola Farber, mainstay of Cunningham's company for years. Generally speaking, the style is based on turned out positions of fifth and fourth; the limbs move about these open forms to create geometric volumes; the torso tilts and twists on top of a stable base. 

Victor Lozano, Lindsey Jones, Sarah Haarmann, Jason Collins and Dylan Crossman in Sequenzas in
Quadrille by Pam Tanowitz. Photo by Yi-Chun Wu.

Tanowitz's dancers have worn toe shoes in past performances, but here they are barefoot. They wear multihued unitards with patterns reflecting those in the Joyce Theater's deco scheme, with chiffon scarfs draped around the midriff in the early sections. Cunningham's dancers often related to one another the way animals might—looking at one another to check distance and intention—and Tanowitz's performers have the same feel, as much animal as human. They dance solo, in pairs and trios, and as a group, although they may split in half, drawing the gaze in two directions. The phrases are densely packed. The music emanated from solo instruments placed throughout the house on the mezzanine level. 

Tere O'Connor's Undersweet, a duet for Michael Ingle and Silas Riener, seemed to go with the series' quadrille theme, implying a form of social dance which, in itself, consists of given forms and expected behavior. The use of Lully's Atys fomented this external gloss, beneath which course primal urges and emotions. The pair began by hewing to pathways on the square stage's periphery, or diagonals, prancing, keeping good posture, heads held high. Yet O'Connor's spare costumes—brown tights for Riener, navy t-shirt and shorts for Ingle— lent a casualness. As the dance evolved, their interactions became more personal and intimate; at one point, they kiss suddenly. Lully's music is mixed with other sounds (also by O'Connor), paralleling the surficial and underlying dynamics. Riener, a Cunningham alum and kind of rock star in modern dance, is never less than riveting to watch.

Riener also danced in Transcendental Daughter with Eleanor Hullihan (another rock star) and Natalie Green, with music by James Baker. This work showcased O'Connor's broadly inventive movement language which encompasses quirky, banal gestures with balletic grandeur. He attracts superb dancers time and again, itself a testament to the seriousness and rigor of his technique. The in-the-round stage set up is not foreign to O'Connor, who has performed at Danspace Project previously (as has Tanowitz), with its option to transform to any configuration. But at the Joyce, such a stage design feels more like a boxing ring, with its slightly raised height and strictly defined edges. Both dances have a seamless fluidity, and the dancers skillfully projected outward, rather than simply to one side. It's invigorating to see the Joyce experimenting with what would seem to be an intractable traditional proscenium design. It was also fun to sit onstage for once.