Kyle Abraham's Watershed

The Watershed. Photo: Ian Douglas

There's no doubt that Kyle Abraham is one of the hot choreographers of the moment, as evidenced by his residency at New York Live Arts, including a two-week run of performances, and a MacArthur fellowship last year. Not to pity him, but it's a lot of pressure for a relatively fresh talent. When many experienced choreographers are tasked with creating an evening-length work and a respectable budget, they can overshoot or fall short.

Abraham.In.Motion performed The Watershed, a full-length work with striking set elements by renowned artist Glenn Ligon. It impressed on many levels, prominently in Ligon's sets—a plywood paneled backdrop that glowed under Dan Scully's lighting, a PVC tree draped with Spanish moss and other feathery detritus; these were augmented by occasional projections of films including stereotypical casting of blacks—tapping with Shirley Temple, in porn, in blackface. Karen Young's costumes, which changed from first-half street wear evocative of modern and Colonial garb, and sleek modern tunics and leggings that we will hopefully all be wearing in a few years. 

Most significantly, Abraham's choreography—expressive, grounded, gestural but not trite, evocative of a number of movement languages—remained compelling and fresh throughout the 70-minute performance (with an intermission). Some of the visual elements were blunt reminders of African-Americans through history, including the film clips, but also the ritual sacrifice of an innocent watermelon. The company comprises dancers of varied physiques,  all powerful interpreters of the hybrid style, in particular, the dynamic Tamisha Guy, who repeatedly leapt in long strides holding her petticoat aloft. In the second half, the time-setting shifted a century forward; lighting created lines and dashes on the marley. In a demonstration of Abraham's nuance with referents, the dancers ripped open the backs of their modern uniforms, summoning thoughts of slavery and lashing—or perhaps merely ventilating themselves. 

Abraham is the source of the movement, and although he is on stage the least, one quick stage crossing spoke volumes. He began as if sashaying on a runway, and morphed into a street-wise strut. It was a brief moment that referred to gender and race expectations in a society that still largely pigeonholes people according to both.  

Glenn Ligon: America, at the Whitney, 3/11/11

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Glenn Ligon: America, at the Whitney

http://www.thirteen.org/sundayarts/blog/museums/glenn-ligon-america-at-the-whitney/1093/

Mirror, 2002. Coal dust, printing ink, glue, gesso, and graphite on canvas, 82 5/8 x 55 1/8 in. (209.9 x 147.6 cm). Collection of Mellody Hobson © Glenn Ligon. Courtesy of the artist and Regen Projects, Los Angeles.

Glenn Ligon: Americabrings into clear focus this New York native’s work in a incisive mid-career survey at the Whitney. Ligon doesn’t rank among the flashiest of contemporary artists, but has steadily balanced powerful content with stunning form to deliver an epiphany both of-the-moment and in tune with history. The exhibition was organized by Whitney curator Scott Rothkopf and runs through June 5.

While his voice is unique, evidence of varied influences abound in his work. Ligon, African American, frequently takes text (often about identity) as a starting point, referencing authors such as Zora Neale Hurston, Ralph Ellison, and Mary Shelley. He plumbs Richard Pryor’s stand-up routines for punchlines, and stencils vibrantly colored letters atop contrasting fields to create visual vibrations, words that laugh off the canvas. Stenciled matrices of letters, many in grayscale hues, can resemble word search puzzles, or Jasper Johns paintings; black letters merge with black backgrounds, muting language and becoming intriguing shapes in relief. Silk-screened self-portraits and small sketches of beauty products evoke Andy Warhol. Ligon admits being ambivalently and strongly affected by Robert Mapplethorpe’s infamous portraits of black men inNotes on the Margin of the Black Book, which pairs the photos with mixed comments from notable observers, many questioning the validity/appropriateness of Mapplethorpe’s project to begin with.