Seeing Triple
NobleMotion Dance Company
By D.L. Groover
Hey, for a dance program to make me forget that there were two NFL championship playoffs on the line at the same time, that’s saying something. On vibrant display January 22/23 at the Jewish Community Center to help celebrate its 31st annual Dance Month festivities, Triple Focus blotted out football’s trash talk, whining, and perceived knee injuries, and brilliantly replaced them a weekend program of electric hip-hop moves, some stunning visual effects, and old-fashioned (in a good way) contemporary dance. NobleMotion Dance, Hope Stone Dance Company, and HIStory strutted their stuff in an eclectic program where each piece had its own vibe, but each one also complemented the next one on the program in a peaceful symbiosis. Each company has its own style, to be sure, but placing the visual wow of NobleMotion next to darkly dramatic Hope Stone and then that next to the flash and sparks of HIStory made us appreciate the startling differences that modern dance encompasses, and welcomes so freely.
NobleMotion is led by Andy and Dionne Sparkman Noble, teachers from Sam Houston State University. The company is new to me, and fairly new to Houston, but the three works it performed were, for all their quirkiness, like comfy old friends. If you ever wondered what to wear to a dance concert, look no farther for inspiration than Dionne Noble‘s “Following Aunt Joan.” The little black dresses on swirling display (designed by Dionne Noble), each one slightly different, have just the right sexy spirit as they cling, twirl, and flare out just so on the quintet of anxious women who pace, preen, and wrap their legs around the chorus line of chairs as they await something in the distance. Set to Kenji Bunch’s jagged Concerto for Piano Trio and Percussion, we are in definite Fosse territory, with a look straight out of Sweet Charity or Chicago, with its harsh overhead spots (although much too dim) that pick out the chairs and their women in the void. Who these women are, or even if they’re aspects of the same woman, is left unanswered. But whether they caress the chair back when they run their hands over it in fantasy or neurotic dread, they sure do look good doing it in their little black dress.
“a small place” is a dance for lower case, too. Choreographed by Andy Noble to spiritual music by Anouar Brahem, it’s an actory piece, and has echoes of a toned-down “A Chorus Line.” A woman (Erin Reck, commanding and full of presence in her little black dress) is ill at ease as she stands in her light at the foot of the stage. Nervously grasping her hands, she looks off. She suddenly turns away, but comes back. She almost speaks, she hesitates. “I…” She breaks her hands apart, and smoothes her perfectly smooth dress. She whips her hair about with fervor, or fever, it’s hard to tell. Quickly, it’s over, but she doesn’t seem any more relaxed. She’s still perched on the void.
“Light Blanket x44,” by Andy and Dionne Noble, has the most scintillating beginning since Balanchine‘s “Serenade.” Outshines would be more appropriate, thanks to the exemplary work by artist Jeremy Choate. Somewhere in space, in another void, a haze of illumination begins. You have no idea what it is, or what you’re looking at or through. It could be a galaxy far, far away. But it has a pulse, it’s alive and growing. There’s a sense of vertigo to it since you can’t quite make out what’s going on or how the magic happens. You get the eeriest feeling. It soon becomes apparent that what we’re seeing is an immense net of tiny lights spread over the floor. Underneath is a human form, made silhouette by the backlights. “She” is caught by the net, fished out of the darkness by a trio of blob-like aliens who don’t seem all that happy to have caught her. She wants to join their dance, but they’re rather insistent that she stay where she is. She is not one of them, they say. The fantasy world, aurally created by songs from My Education, Set Fire to Flames, and Clark, and stressing xylophone and bells, worked hand-in-glove with the otherworldly visuals, but the dance of the aliens was unvaried and ho-hum. The net of lights was ravishing, but no set can compensate when we get turned off.
Houston favorite Hope Stone Dance Company always has interesting things to say and interesting ways to say it, and Jane Weiner’s “Swimming to Parallel” was a love letter to community and working things out together. It was another piece about dresses, since Courtney Jones, wonderfully antsy, couldn’t control hers. Appropriately accompanied by the Czech-infused music of Iva Bittova, she walked tentatively around the square watching the others as they entered and left. She fidgeted with her sundress, pressing it down, adjusting it. She also fell off center, would lose her balance, then catch herself and plant herself upright. She and the dress were coming unglued. She ran backward and was caught by the man (Spencer Gavin-Herring), who gently lifted her, swung her around, and placed her back on plumb. Suddenly everyone, whether spinning on half toe, or sweeping their arms in the air, got into the moment with a little Bach and the piece became alive and really dancey. However, it was over when the moment crystallized, and we never really found out if Miss Jones got her groove back.
“In Situ,” by Jane Weiner, stunned with patriotic intensity. We have another group commune, only this time with soldiers, female soldiers. Seven of them grow up right before our eyes. Their boots are laid out, they step into them, they march along. If one falters, another is there to give her leg a push and start her moving again. They don’t dance so much as perform ritual routine. They’re a group: one for all, all for one. The Untied Nations-type music of Intuit, Bruno Coulias, Vivaldi, and Broken Social Scene conveys the seriousness of purpose, and at the end a battle flag is folded with precise attention and presented. The impression is strength and duty and abiding companionship.
Both halves of the program finished the only way they could -- with an electrifying blast of super-high voltage hip-hop from HIStory. Back from a phenomenal tour of China, Houston’s premier break dance ensemble, a group of super hero dancers if ever there were, exploded out of the JCC. Is there still a roof? Joined by Inertia, the “elite performing ensemble” at Westside High School, the boys of HIStory were multiplied and amplified. The old guard can still teach tricks to the young ’uns, but, man, the kids are right behind, like energy-popping shadows. When both forces face off, it’s the ultimate rush.
Other than Fred Astaire, has there ever been a dancer equally as acclaimed as a choreographer? Well, now I give you four more: Joel Rivera, Mark Chaves, Bryan Paule, and Jesse Garcia. What their individual contributions are to the dances, as opposed to director/choreographer Sharon Roberts, I can not tell, nor would, I suppose, these talented guys and gal know either, it all being so seamless an effort. Everyone of them can do tricks -- mighty amazing feats of blur, defying gravity and every other law of nature -- but when they all come together in a whirling phalanx to “We Are Family,” well, dance just doesn’t get any more exciting and fun. “Check it Out” and “Physical Zingers” were what their titles predicted: a mosh pit of “anything you can do I can do better.” A full evening would be too much of a good thing, since hip hop hasn’t yet learned how to build drama within its own happy, dramatic structure. But, as they say, there may not be much meat on the bones, but what’s there is choice.
HIStory’s sizzling work, prodding each other to higher planes, showing off with macho glee, dancing for the sheer joy of it, lifts you up and takes you away. That’s just what dance is supposed to do. Was there some football game going on at the same time?
Hopestope Dance Company. Photo by Simon Gentry.