{"id":4985,"date":"2013-03-21T07:22:02","date_gmt":"2013-03-21T07:22:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/?p=4985\/"},"modified":"2017-08-29T01:53:30","modified_gmt":"2017-08-29T01:53:30","slug":"these-inadequate-words-katie-mcmillan-on-tao-dance-theater","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/these-inadequate-words-katie-mcmillan-on-tao-dance-theater\/","title":{"rendered":"These Inadequate Words: Katie McMillan on TAO Dance Theater"},"content":{"rendered":"

Check out the full Harbourfront Centre blog post at this link.\u00a0<\/a><\/p>\n

Flipping through the program a few minutes before the opening of last night\u2019s performance by TAO Dance Theater, I read the following: \u201cChoreographer Tao Ye believes a single word or phrase is insufficient to summarize a work of contemporary dance theatre while still allowing audiences free range of imagination.\u201d This excerpt was in reference to titling the work, but of course my reaction to reading this was, well, then how the hell am I supposed to write 1200 words about it?! I thought I was encouraging critical discussion about the work, not limiting imagination! And I\u2019m not summarizing, right?! I just use examples from the performance by \u2013 *gasp* \u2013 describing them in\u00a0words<\/i>; does this mean I\u2019m destroying everyone\u2019s individual reception of the work? What is my purpose?\u00a0Where is the internet?!<\/i>\u00a0(FYI: every time I have an existential crisis I end up worrying about where the internet is. Physically. Like, I know it\u2019s in my computer, but where does it come from?)<\/p>\n

Shortly after this outburst, the performance began and I forgot all about words and titles and criticism and the internet. In fact, I forgot about\u00a0everything<\/i>. I lost all sense of time. I stopped searching for story and linearity. I just stopped searching, period. To say that this performance is hypnotizing is a vast understatement. It\u2019s more like a vortex that sucks up your brain and body into this timeless, somewhat meditative state. This work is not entertainment for entertainment\u2019s sake; it\u2019s actually not really entertainment at all. The movements are repetitive, rhythmic, and\u2026 hypnotic. That\u2019s the only word I can think of to describe the performance because it\u2019s less of a description and more of a zone. Do I sound like I\u2019m stoned? Because after the show, I really felt like it.<\/p>\n

To see\u00a0Weight x3\u00a0<\/i>&\u00a02<\/i>\u00a0is to\u00a0experience<\/i>\u00a0the work. There isn\u2019t really any other way of putting it. To say I \u2018watched\u2019 the performance is insufficient because it\u2019s so all-encompassing. I was not anticipating what would come next, nor was I reflecting on what had come before. I was just being, in the moment. When the lights came on for intermission, I literally had no idea how much time had passed.<\/p>\n

There were essentially three segments in this production;\u00a0Weight x3<\/i>\u00a0consists of a duet and a solo and\u00a02<\/i>\u00a0is (not surprisingly) a duet. The first segment, danced by Lei Yan and Gong Xingxing, was strangely reminiscent of M.C. Escher\u2019s\u00a0Drawing Hands<\/i>\u00a0(which I always thought was called\u00a0\u2018Hands Drawing Hands\u2019<\/i>\u00a0\u2013 for obvious reasons \u2013 until I Googled it to check my spelling of Escher just now). The two dancers held hands for the majority of the performance, and it was difficult to determine where one dancer ended and the other began. There was a seamless unity between them that allowed them to be simultaneously two and one. Their inevitable division happened so discreetly that I hardly noticed; the process of separation was slow and ultimately incomplete.<\/p>\n

The second segment of\u00a0Weight x3<\/i>\u00a0was performed by Duan Ni with a long, wooden staff. The lighting design was fabulous and Ni glowed like a firefly on a country road. The choreography was mesmerizing as human and object seemed to propel one another before, during, and after each movement. Again, my critical reflection was limited to images incited by the work; I imagined anthropomorphized objects like a human helicopter or a windmill. I saw a hummingbird and a spider quickly, but methodically, weaving its web. It felt almost inevitable that Ni would eventually drop the staff \u2013 how could she possibly have maintained such fluid and complex movements for such a long time? I\u2019ll admit, though, it was disappointing when she did eventually drop it, despite picking it up and continuing so quickly that if someone had blinked at just the right moment, they may never have known. For me, it brought me back to the material world. I remembered where I was again. I lost the magic for just a moment.<\/p>\n

This led to what I found was a poorly timed intermission. I understand that the set had to be changed for the next performance but it is slightly jarring to be forced to leave the theatre less than 30 minutes after sitting down. In hindsight, I can see why Tao Ye may not have wanted to begin the show with\u00a02<\/i>, but I found it much more difficult to settle in to the second half of the performance. This seemed to be the experience for many audience members and as the work progressed, the silent segments of\u00a02<\/i>\u00a0allowed us to hear every shift, whisper or adjustment made in the entire theatre. It was especially awkward when a woman in the front row pulled out her cell phone and started texting. (PS. Dear woman in the front row who pulled out her cell phone and started texting:\u00a0ACTUALLY?<\/i>).<\/p>\n

In terms of style and aesthetic,\u00a02<\/i>\u00a0felt like a complete contrast to\u00a0Weight x3<\/i>. It was cold and stark. The movements were jerky and disjointed as opposed to rhythmic and united. With the dancers already on stage when we re-entered the theatre, it almost felt as though the work began before we entered and would continue after we left. At the same time, the performers seemed to move as if in response to movement in the audience. They flopped around the stage like fish out of water, clown-like but with distinct precision. The sound design was disarming, alternating between the self-reflective not-so-silent audience and crackling static layered with recognizable noises that built slowly or rang alarmingly. Dancers Tao Ye and Duan Ni appeared to be both creating their environment and reacting to it.<\/p>\n

About halfway through the performance of\u00a02<\/i>, I realized that if Samuel Beckett had been a dancer, his work would have looked a lot like this. The post-apocalyptic feeling of\u00a02<\/i>\u00a0reminded me a lot of Beckett\u2019s\u00a0Endgame<\/i>; an attempt to continue routine or maintain some semblance of life when everything has been destroyed. It was playful and depressing and philosophical, whereas the first segment of\u00a0Weight x3<\/i>\u00a0reflected the experience of being hypnotized by habit and repetition, not unlike\u00a0Waiting for Godot<\/i>. I suppose that would mean the second segment of\u00a0Weight x3<\/i>\u00a0recalled Beckett\u2019s\u00a0Not I<\/i>, a haunting piece that features only a mouth speaking rapidly on stage. It leaves the audience in a kind of trance, left to fend for themselves against the jarring reality outside of the theatre.<\/p>\n

There is really nothing in the style, aesthetic, or execution of\u00a0Weight x3<\/i>\u00a0&\u00a02\u00a0<\/i>that is analogous to Beckett\u2019s plays. The parallels I found were in the experience of\u00a0being<\/i>\u00a0at the performance. All of my deductive reasoning failed. The years I spent learning critical analysis were irrelevant. Beckett even said, \u201cDance first. Think later. It\u2019s the natural order.\u201d I think he was right.<\/p>\n

Katie McMillan\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>is a director, writer, and appreciator who serves as the\u00a0Theatre Criticism Correspondent for World Stage 2013.\u00a0She also works for Abilities Arts Festival,\u00a0promoting inclusivity in the arts and\u00a0producing an array of work by professional artists with disabilities. \u00a0In her spare time, Katie writes short fiction and performs original comic songs for her cats (and anyone else who might be listening).\u00a0<\/em>@KatieMcChillin<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Check out the full Harbourfront Centre blog post a [\u2026]<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4987,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[104],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4985","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized-cn"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/Tao5.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4985"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4985"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4985\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6359,"href":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4985\/revisions\/6359"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/4987"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4985"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4985"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pingpongarts.org\/cn\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4985"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}