TRANSFER
Reviewed by Kathleen Duffy
Presented at Link's Hall, 3435 N. Sheffield, Chicago
IL, Nov. 7-9, 2003
Transfer,
by Barbara Mahler and Rachel Thorne Germond, examines
instances of transmission: a partnership visibly fluctuates
between harmony and dissonance, emotional strength transforms
into physical strength, grief transposes from a private
to a public process, external chaos shifts to inner
peace, and assumptions about a pop culture icon are
reassigned as facts about a fellow human being. Overlaying
all these is the longstanding mentor/mentee relationship
between Mahler and Germond, in which the transfer of
aesthetic and tradition from teacher to student is highly
visible without appearing derivative. The structure
of the program at Link's Hall enhanced this visibility,
as Germond and Mahler alternated presentation of their
works, allowing for a more comparative view between
them.
Rejoinder,
Germond's duet with Asimina Chremos, focuses on the
varying levels of commitment within a partnership, and
the emotional reactions those fluctuations elicit. As
the piece begins, the performers dance together, their
physical movements infused with a playful innocence
and childlike grace. There is a hint of sexual tension
between the pair, but the principal impression is one
of a pure and loving relationship. Then, the music dissolves
into dissonance, the dancers begin to dance alone, and
their individual gestures evoke the pain of their separation.
In a moment of reconciliation, the two partners balance
one another in turn, a vivid metaphor for their mutual
support of one another. To the melody of a delicate
Bellini aria, the two partners begin to come together
again, and their dance reveals stability and togetherness
as the crux of their relationship.
Mahler
starts her program with The Whispering Pages - short
dances in white all in a row. Mahler dances as if she
is trying to touch her body to every inch of the space
around her. The sequences of movement deliberately draw
attention to her feet, her legs, her arms, her spine,
as if she is discovering her body and its immense strength
for the first time. Her dance is a delicate rhythm familiar
from most of our lives - moments of supreme wonder alternate
with moments of supreme despair, and during the times
between the two, only a simple desire for balance.
During
rests in the music, Mahler allows her breath to become
an audible element of the dance as well. The sound reminds
us that her refined grace is the result of astounding
physical ability and muscular control. Her choreography
incorporates many movements reminiscent of yoga, where
the premise is to breathe into the position, allowing
the breath to move energy inside and take the body further
into a pose. This is unsurprising, as Mahler is a master
teacher of the Klein Technique, which utilizes breathing
techniques and energy work as parts of its methodology.
Shudder,
a solo by Germond, enacts a reaction to catastrophic
loss. In four movements, Germond illustrates an organic
grief process, growing from private to public expression.
Germond's choreography of this piece calls to mind the
vast effort necessary to maintain emotional balance
and composure when faced with trauma. She often bends
over and holds her stomach, shaking from side to side
as if in severe pain. Her leg quakes uncontrollably,
and she looks at it as if she cannot fathom what is
happening. Memory repeatedly exerts its strength on
her, pulling her into the past despite her best efforts
to remain in the present. She ends the piece by becoming
supine on the floor, curled around an oil lamp and blowing
out the light, effectively ending her permission for
us to witness this intense, personal course of grief.
The
accompaniment to Mahler's Untitled Solo is an aural
transfer of sound from Germond's Rejoinder to this piece.
The same dissonant noise that signals strife in Rejoinder
now becomes the manic and sometimes crushing energy
of the urban environment in Mahler's solo, which is
powerful enough to bring her down to the floor. Perhaps
in psychic defense, her arms begin to create long arcs
in the space around her, as if she is sweeping away
the external clutter in her determination to find repose.
She is moving and being moved by the energy of the outside
world, yet her absolute will to maintain control of
herself is obvious throughout the piece. Practitioners
of yoga will understand the enormous physical strength
Mahler possesses when she dances into her elegant poses
of balance, as well. She does not shake, she does not
wobble at all - she is almost otherworldly in her ability
to find a solid place of balance in the space of a single
heartbeat. The dance ends with an expression of contentment,
and the sense that the chaos of the outer world has
definitely been conquered by her serenity and inner
peace.
Germond's
10 Marilyns, a work-in-progress, closed out the program
and brought down the house. The piece reveals Marilyn
Monroe as both icon and human being. Although full of
humor, this is no cheap shot at Monroe; rather, the
piece is an exploration of her place in our shared cultural
fabric. Monroe is treated lovingly and respectfully
in this work. Performing with Germond in the first movement
are featured Marilyns Andrea Cerniglia and Deborah Levasseur-Lottman.
Both are presented by Germond as campy and outrageous,
childlike and sexy - the same attributes of Marilyn
presented to the world by those that created her image.
The three Marilyns come to compete with one another
as to which one is the sexiest, the vampiest, the most
alluring, although all of them are riveting. After a
few moments of sultry poses and big cheesecake smiles,
the three of them begin loudly slapping their bodies,
and the sound ricochets off the walls and floor. It's
Norma Jean reminding herself of the reality of her own
flesh, while Marilyn keeps smiling for the cameras.
After this sequence, another Marilyn arrives, takes
her position, and begins performing in unison with the
first three Marilyns. Then, another Marilyn enters.
And another. And another, until we have the ten Marilyns
of the title posing and preening for us. All are dressed
in black, mostly lingerie. All have blond wigs. None
of them look alike, though, and the last Marilyn to
enter has apparently forgotten to shave his beard for
the occasion. The contrast between the typical overly
feminized image of Marilyn Monroe, and a roomful of
both male and female dancers of varying heights and
body sizes portraying her, is a poignant reminder that
we all have a bit of Marilyn in us, a public image that
does not necessarily reflect the flesh and blood reality
of the person we really are.
-
Kathleen Duffy, 2002
Chicago IL
