For those who have an inkling of the progressive and liberated world of improvisational dance, last weekend’s Relations performance on the Museum of Contemporary Art’s Neeson stage must have seemed momentous. Three marvels of the technique would be sharing a dance floor for the first time.
For those who have an appreciation of dance but don’t know what to do with the language of improvisation in that sphere, the performances would prove to be powerfully revelatory and endlessly entertaining.
Bebe Miller, Ishmael Houston-Jones and Ralph Lemon are all extraordinary entertainers in their own right and have each been practicing their art for forty years. In some cases, more.
How each of them found their way to such a personally expressive form of dance is enlightening and quite ordinary. For Houston Jones, modern dance; or technical dance, was something akin to an ill-fitting suit. Confining and a bit stiff, it didn’t allow him the freedom he craved in dance. Improvisational dance is movement in the moment. You’ll never do the same dance the same way and the audience will never see exactly the same performance twice. In many ways that’s the nature of dance itself. It’s very much a one-time experience even when you see Swan Lake for the millionth time. Time, place, and talent can all alter the performance in subtle but memorable ways. In improvisation, where the cerebral and the spiritual are as important as the physical, the dancer is guided by skill and trust in self.
With a gleaming turntable surrounded by a colorful array of vinyl album covers commanding the upper left hand corner of the stage; the audience, a study in casually refined chic, waited quietly Saturday night. Opening in silence, Miller mounted the floor alone and danced without music in free expression. She later enlivened the mood by putting on a wonderfully earthy and soulful version of Midnight Rambler. Houston-Jones and Lemon poised in wait at the rear of the stage like sentries at ease. It was from that night of soft beginnings that a fascinating evening of closeness, dance virtuosity and unqualified trust would come to full and bright bloom.
Alternating from solos to duets to all three dancing together; the dancers were like jazz in physical movement. One would be left alone on the stage to dance to music they’d place on the turntable. Another would later talk about a very personal episode in their life from a standing mic while the others danced their interpretations of the story. The technique injected a tidal wave of intimacy between the dancers that copiously overflowed through the audience as well.
And there was always the music to add color and vibrancy to the dancing and the atmosphere in the hall. Invariably it would be something undeniably cool. Something that would ride on virulent rhythms or sail on mellow beats that sometimes shared a close kinship to roots music. Or it would be contemporary and daring with the dancers always interpreting what they were hearing in fascinatingly unique ways.
Eventually, as the program progressed, a clear sense of how strikingly different each one of these dancers were from one another broke through. And you could see how their careers in this little known and understood tributary of dance make them close members of an uncommon family. It may not be customary for black American dancers to gravitate to a form that many consider so esoteric. But keep in mind, all of these performers came of age in the late 60’s and early 70’s when questioning and challenging convention came with the territory.
By adding physical contact, you take improvisational dance to a much higher rung. Sharing the floor with others who embrace the same love for intuitive spontaneity means that trust becomes the most important variable on the stage.
From the way they talked to one another, the way Lemon, who was barefoot, tied Houston-Jones’s shoelace to prevent a fall; or the way Bebe Miller cradled Lemon until he regained his center after his euphorically endless spin around the stage’s perimeter telegraphed how intently they were looking out for each other.
Dramatic lighting changes, the unifying cohesion of an intermission free performance and the sheer confidence and sense of self each one of these dancers radiated all combined to make for a remarkable experience.
Relations
Ishmael Houston – Jones, Bebe Miller, Ralph Lemon
Museum of Contemporary Art
Edlis Neeson Theater
Nov. 2 – 3, 2018
220 E. Chicago Ave.
Chicago, IL 60611
312-280-2660
mcachicago.org
