DANCE

DanceWatch Weekly: To vogue and then to taco

Dance comes in many forms this week with films, cross genre collaborations, dance battles, a panel, Trisha Brown films, 65 dancing horses and tacos.

Are you a talented makeup artists, costume designer, voguer or waacker? If you are screaming, “Yes, I Am!”, then you could enter to compete in Critical Mascara: A Post-Realness Drag Extravaganza. It’s part of PICA’s Time Based Arts Festival and combines performance art, drag, and vogue to incite us to new heights of glamour and ferocity. If you aren’t sure what waacking is, Kumari Suraj, one of Critical Mascara’s newest co-directors, explains the dance form in her instructional video. Voguing, which is based on hand gestures, poses and turns, originated in the Harlem ballroom scene in the 1980’s and was brought to mainstream attention through Madonna and the documentary Paris is Burning, which chronicled the lives of LGBT African-American and Latino dancers in that scene.

Critical Mascara is broken up into two main categories: Looks and Moves. These two are broken down further into four sub-categories: Scrap Identities (hybrid-culture couture), Neck Up! (artface), Vogue Elements, and Waacking. Go to PICA’s website for more info if you are interested in entering.

Critical Mascara was created four years ago by Portland’s own Pepper Pepper—queen, choreographer, and performance artist. This year, Critical Mascara has added Isaiah Esquire, a dance artists well known in Portland’s drag ball scene, and Kumari Suraj, who introduced waacking to the masses on the reality TV show So You Think You Can Dance. The extravaganza celebrates community and creativity, and is a setting for diversity, agency, self-expression and fierce, powerful dancing.

While you are considering which category appeals to you, Voguing or Waacking, looks or costume or are trying to figure out how to take two weeks off of work to see all of the TBA events (which I will break down for you in September), you can check out this weekend’s performance offerings. They come in many forms: films, cross genre collaborations, dance battles, a panel, Trisha Brown films or 65 dancing horses—one of these events includes tacos with the price of admission.

Performances this week

14037543_10210131520705877_1584528195_o

Photo courtesy of Ben Martens personal archive.

Headwaters Showcase #4: Video Art Edition + Tacos
Curated by Ben Martens in association with Water in The Desert
7 pm August 18
The Headwaters Theatre, 55 NE Farragut St, Ste 9

The proceedings include two hours of short films, music videos, dance for film, and animated shorts by regional and national filmmakers, and, of course, a break for tacos (included in the price of admission).

Ben Martens, who has been curating monthly performances at The Headwater Theater for several months now, is a poet, electronic music producer, emcee, mover, organizer and performance artist with an interest in revolution, existentialism, comedy, mindfulness and environmentalism. He studied Music and Performance at Naropa University and has been studying Butoh with Mizu Desierto since his arrival in Portland in January 2015. He and Desierto are hoping to rev up Portland’s performance community by bringing them together through low-cost, low-ambition, high energy community showcases. Martens is planning shows for September 27 and October 28, and is always looking for future performers, particularly performers of color and diverse ages, in theatre, comedy, dance and ensemble work. If you are interested in performing contact Martens at bensmateria@gmail.com.

8202016

3 performances with movement + dance + sound. Photo courtesy of Takahiro Yamamoto.

3 performances with movement + dance + sound
8 pm August 20
Beacon Sound, 3636 N Mississippi Ave.

This single evening of cross genre collaborative performances features Jin Camou, Ayako Kataoka, Takahiro Yamamoto, Jesse Mejía, Jmy James Kidd, and Tara Jane O’Neil. Choreographer and costume designer Jmy James Kidd and multi-instrumentalist and composer Tara Jane O’Neil from Los Angeles, will perform Magical Diagonal.
Portland-based dancer and choreographer Jin Camou will present a solo that transforms the everyday into a heightened state. Dancer/experimental musician Ayako Kataoka, composer/engineer Jesse Mejía, and choreographer/performer Takahiro Yamamoto presents Circuitous, a trio that investigates the coexistence of multiple, performative states.

14045801_197364150678992_718529475321468216_n

Photo of Malik “Kilam” Delgado. Courtesy of ADAPT.

ADAPT 2016
All styles dance battle
A Mic Check! Event presented by: PSHA x APANO x AMP x ALLY
5 pm August 20
Portland State University: Smith Memorial Student Union (1st floor), 1825 SW Broadway

The event, hosted by Malik “Kilam” Delgado and accompanied by DJ Fish Boogie, will consist of preliminary competitions early in the day with the top 16 contenders competing one-on-one starting at 5pm. The competition will be judged by Isiah Munoz (Chapter1ne), Jireh Spoon (Soul Felons Crew, BDB, HOODZ), and Pandora (Style Elements Crew, Venus Fly, LXD, Step Up 3). The winner takes home $300 and a trophy.

“ADAPT is committed to connecting dancers of all backgrounds to inspire and further elevate the NW Dance community. Welcoming all experiences and walks of life under one roof to exchange through music and movement.”

Double Difference
Linda K. Johnson and Linda M. Wysong
3 pm August 20, Panel, Demolition & the Stones of Ross Island
3 pm August 27, Artist talk
Indivisible Gallery, 2544 SE 26th Ave
(Indivisible is open for viewing: August 20 and 27, noon to 5 pm)
In this gallery exhibit, Portland dance artist Linda K. Johnson and Linda M. Wysong, an environmental design and social practice artist, continue a 25-year, collaborative dialogue revolving around Portland’s layered and ever-changing landscape.

Odysseo
By Cavalia
July 7-August 28
The White Big Top, located at Zidell Yards in South Waterfront, 3030 Moody Ave
Combining 65 horses, special effects, acrobatics, dance, aerial work and live music under a big top, this equestrian ballet celebrates beauty in nature, transporting the audience to virtual environments around the world.

image_main2_22 (1)

Photo of “Spiral” (1974)-choreography by Trisha Brown. Photo by © Gene Pittman 2008.

TREES IN THE FOREST
A group show curated by Kari Rittenbach
July 23-September 2, 2016
Opening July 23, 4-6pm
Gallery hours Thursday-Sunday 3-6pm
Yale Union, 800 SE 10th Ave
Three videos of works by Trisha Brown—La Chanteuse (1963), Falling Duet (1968), and Spiral (1974)—will be shown on a loop at Yale Union as part of a curated festival by Kari Rittenbach. Rittenbach is a graduate of Yale University, the Courtauld Institute of Art, and the Whitney Independent Study Program and is a writer and independent curator based in New York.

The concept behind TREES IN THE FOREST: “Considering nature as a concept, structure, or formal subject, the exhibited works examine its cultural and social mediation, as well as “naturalized” systems of knowledge and power in the world at large. TREES IN THE FOREST takes an ecological approach to a disparate selection of recent art practices; it is an experimental survey of understudied territories in an era of routine environmental catastrophe.”

Upcoming performances

August 25-September 11, Visiting Alembic Artist Margit Galanter, Performance Works NW
August 27, Late Summer Harvest: A Showing of Two Works in Progress, choreographers Eliza Larson, Taylor Eggan and Daniel Addy
August 27, Open House, New Expressive Works
September 10, Collection, NW Dance Project
September 8-18, TBA: 16, Portland Institute for Contemporary Art

Everyday Ballerina 4: A Door Opens

In the fourth episode of a twelve-part series, Gavin Larsen learns to feel the rhythm, and scores a surprise triple triumph in the studio

By GAVIN LARSEN

The next year, the girl, now 10, was moved up into the next level of ballet classes. She’d faked it well enough, copied well enough, worked harder than regular 8- or 9-year olds would, and, unsurprisingly, come to seriously love going to class. The ritual was fun now. Her family, a foursome, escorted her downtown quite early on Saturday mornings, where they all encamped at a table inside Burger King, half a block away from the rattly wooden front doors of the ballet school. They’d get cheese danishes wrapped in airtight plastic bags, or Styrofoam plates of scrambled eggs, sausage, pancakes and maple syrup, and her parents would drink coffee.

Gavin Larsen

Gavin Larsen

When it was time, she was sent off to walk by herself the half-block to the ballet school, open those front doors, and leave Broadway behind to climb the mountainous flight of stairs. Her parents, pretending to be calm and casual, watched anxiously until she’d crossed the street, passed the candy store, and disappeared through the doors.

The fun of the Saturday morning ritual, though, was only because it was leading up to the dancing-time. And it wasn’t just that the dancing was less terrifying. It was becoming fun. And that was because of the music.

Editor’s note: What goes into the making of a professional ballet dancer? In this twelve-part series of reminiscences and turning points excerpted from a larger work-in-progress, former Oregon Ballet Theatre principal Gavin Larsen pulls back the curtains and gives us inside glimpses of the challenges, uncertainties, and triumphs of the dancer’s’ life. Part 4 of “Everyday Ballerina: The Power of

Everyday Ballerina 5: Summer of 1992

In the fifth episode of a twelve-part series, Gavin Larsen leaves school behind and begins her professional career – and the lessons just keep coming

Editors’ note: What goes into the making of a professional ballet dancer? In this twelve-part series of reminiscences and turning points excerpted from a larger work-in-progress, former Oregon Ballet Theatre principal Gavin Larsen pulls back the curtains and gives us inside glimpses of the challenges, uncertainties, and triumphs of the dancers’ life. Part 5 of “Everyday Ballerina”: In the summer of 1992, Larsen travels cross-country from New York to Seattle to begin her professional dancing career with Pacific Northwest Ballet.

*

By GAVIN LARSEN 

In the summer of 1992, I thought I had been duped.

I was naive, even for a 17-year-old. But as it became clear that I had failed to notice a huge, crucial, completely obvious basic fact about being a dancer, I was rocked absolutely to the core. I’d been oblivious to something everyone else got but didn’t bother to tell me about, because it was so commonly understood. I was terrified. And I feared I just might have made a terrible mistake.

It was as if, after desperately wanting and hoping to be granted membership into a special club, one whose members I idolized and that was my ticket to my dreamed-of life of a dancer, I had finally been allowed to join— but once I was inside, the expectations and assumptions and responsibilities were completely unlike anything I had envisioned. They were dauntingly difficult, and stunningly painful. There was no rule book, and nothing was explained. The price of membership in this Professional Dancer Club was a test of toughness, adaptability, and stoicism. It required a worldly-wise savvy of which I had not one iota. The other members were welcoming enough, even accepting, but their blasé air of capable professionalism was intimidating. I was much too embarrassed to ask a question that might reveal my shocking lack of preparation— my reflexive instinct was that I should hide my struggle or I would be branded as irresponsible and inadequate, not up to the task. I was in completely over my head.

Gavin Larsen

Gavin Larsen

What scared me most during that summer of ’92 was a startling feeling that I should have known what this was going to be like— I should have known what to expect when I graduated from ballet school into the life of a professional dancer. I should have known that I would be in pointe shoes for eight hours a day— and my feet should have been able to handle it. I should have been able to learn the choreography for three different ballets, and understudy three other dancers’ roles, and be able to step in without warning to any of the other dancers’ positions whether or not I’d learned them. But I hadn’t even known how long the rehearsal days would be, and I definitely did not imagine they would leave me feeling desperate from pain and fatigue.

Continues…

Everyday Ballerina 3: The 8-Year-Old, Part 2

In the third of twelve daily episodes, Gavin Larsen recalls the hopes and fears of a beginner, and the terrors of an old Greek teacher in New York

Editors’ note: What goes into the making of a professional ballet dancer? In this twelve-part series of reminiscences and turning points excerpted from a larger work-in-progress, former Oregon Ballet Theatre principal Gavin Larsen pulls back the curtains and gives us inside glimpses of the challenges, uncertainties, and triumphs of the dancers’ life.  Part 3 of “Everyday Ballerina”: The 8-Year-Old, Part 2.

*

By GAVIN LARSEN

Now that she knew which studio to go into, the 8-year-old did return the following week, and the one after, and even more after that. As these weeks passed, she began to slowly gain, if not real confidence, a familiarity with how things worked. She followed along. She watched, and copied, but just when she started to think she knew everything she and the other students would be told to do during class, the teacher called for a step or movement that was foreign. As before, momentary panic would strike, and that fear of looking stupid. She was afraid no one remembered that she was the girl who was supposed to be given leeway, who was still catching up. She wanted to wear a sign reminding everyone she was new.

Gavin Larsen

Gavin Larsen

Did she think of her new-ness as a defense— a justification for any mistake she might make? Was it becoming part of her psyche, her identity? A shield, so that she could fail without fear of shame? But the curse of being a good faker is that people begin to think you’re for real, and then they expect things.

She was trying, and listening, hard, very hard. Every instruction that was given she multiplied by at least two or three. A straight knee had to be very, very straight. Shoulders down meant really, really down. “Point your toes” meant make your foot as strong as a dagger. “Stomach in” meant belly button touching backbone.

Continues…

Everyday Ballerina 2: The 8-Year-Old

In part two of a twelve-part series, Gavin Larsen remembers the beginning of her dance life, lost in the confusion of a New York studio

Editors’ note: What goes into the making of a professional ballet dancer? In this twelve-part series of reminiscences and turning points excerpted from a larger work-in-progress, Gavin Larsen pulls back the curtains and gives us inside glimpses of the challenges, uncertainties, and triumphs of the dancers’ life. “Everyday Ballerina,” Part 2: The 8-Year-Old.

*

By GAVIN LARSEN

The noise and rushing current of Broadway are muted instantly as the old wooden door thuds shut, its glass window rattling once. Inside, everything is gray-scale, muted, dusty, and chilly. A wide wooden staircase leads straight up, enormously high and steep. At the top, far above real life and through a door to the right: A hallway, long wooden benches, and, on the bare floor, a big fluffy white dog acting as foot rest and greeter. The air is hazy and musty, carrying a cold, sweaty, stale smell, possibly left over from the generations of dancers before. Every room is a cavern. Rows of ancient metal lockers fill a dressing room that is unlit, unkempt, uncleaned–and unused? Studios with ceilings two stories high are so big their corners disappear into shadows, empty and forgotten. Rosin dust covers everything. Young children, talking excitedly, bring life to this museum that is the space itself. Their purple leotards are the only color in this movie.

*

To an 8-year-old, especially one there for the first time, the New York School of Ballet was confusing. There were certainly a lot of young children crowded into the big lobby hallway who looked like they were there for ballet class, but then there were all these adults around— clearly dancers, real ones— who looked as old as parents (though they were, probably, late teenagers).

Gavin Larsen

Gavin Larsen

The procedures and expectations were confusing, too, especially to a timid, play-by-the-rules little girl, self-conscious, and terrified of doing something wrong. The laid-back attitude of the friendly (and gorgeously tall and glamorous) woman behind the front desk made it all more stressful, not less— was the handwritten ledger book an attendance sheet? If each page was a class, where was the 8-year-old’s name? Why did the glamorous woman say it didn’t matter and to go in anyway?

Go in? Most confusing of all was where to go and what to do. Nobody pointed a new student to the right studio. Wanting to get away from the crowd of loud grown-ups milling about by the entrance, she wandered down a long hall and found an almost-hidden studio that felt the safest— the most private, way down there almost out the back door. She could slip in unnoticed and blend in with the bunch of kids already in there. Just pretend to know where you belong.

Edgar Degas), "The Dance Lesson," c. 1879, oil on canvas, Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Mellon. National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

Edgar Degas, “The Dance Lesson,” c. 1879, oil on canvas, Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Mellon. National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

Pretending soon became everything. Pretend to know where to stand at the barre— everyone else knew. A woman, the teacher, strolled in with coffee cup in hand, her casualness only adding anxiety. Class started, suddenly, without preface or introduction, or recognition of the terrified dormouse squeezed into line of confident kids. Pretend to know what the words mean, what the steps are; copy the girl on either side, mimic and shadow whatever she does. Play follow-along, but never think of speaking up— don’t ask a question; they’ll know you made a mistake— just stay quiet and hope no one notices. Blend in so you won’t stand out; even though, as usual, trying to blend in makes you noticeable.

No one’s being mean, so why so intimidated? Why so scared? Scared of what? Scared of being wrong, even if only because of others’ harmless shortcomings or benign oversights.

Class is over. How old are you? “Eight,” the dormouse squeaked. Aha—I think youre in the wrong class— have you ever taken ballet before? No? Oh, no wonder! But you know, its fine— you kept up so well, and youll catch up to everyone else quickly. Just stay here in this class, and come again next week.

What? I kept up well? How is that possible? How can I catch up to the middle when I don’t even know the beginning?

*

So it began. A lifetime—a ballet-lifetime— started off without a beginning, but with a mandate to pretend that there was one. Entering the race two laps past the starting line, hoping no one would notice.

 Could it be done?

*

TOMORROW: The 8-Year-Old, Part 2. “Now that she knew which studio to go into, the 8-year-old did return the following week, and the one after, and even more after that.”

PREVIOUSLY:

Everyday Ballerina 1: Curtain Speech

 

*

Born and raised in New York City, Gavin Larsen has been immersed in ballet’s “bizarrely intuitive system” since she was 8 years old and began to study in the same studios where George Balanchine had created some of his finest ballets. She moved on to the School of American Ballet, and a long career performing with Pacific Northwest Ballet, Alberta Ballet, the Suzanne Farrell Ballet, and as a principal dancer with Oregon Ballet Theatre. Since retiring from the stage in 2010, she has taught and written extensively for Dance Magazine, Dance Spirit, Pointe, Oregon ArtsWatch, The Threepenny Review, the literary journal KYSO Flash, and elsewhere.

 

Everyday Ballerina 1: Curtain Speech

In the first of a twelve-part daily series, former ballerina Gavin Larsen takes us behind the curtain and inside the world of dancers and dance

Editors’ note: What goes into the making of a professional ballet dancer? In this twelve-part series of reminiscences and turning points excerpted from a larger work-in-progress, Gavin Larsen pulls back the curtains and gives us inside glimpses of the challenges, uncertainties, and triumphs of the dancers’ life. Part 1 of “Everyday Ballerina”: Curtain Speech.

*

By GAVIN LARSEN

It seems that most performances begin, these days, with a speech. Before you— the audience— are allowed to slip away from your life outside the theater and into a world of music and dance, you must be spoken to. Welcomed, thanked for coming, briefed on what you’re about to see, and encouraged to thank those people or entities that have given more than you have in order to make this show possible.

Gavin Larsen

Gavin Larsen

Sometimes these speeches are funny, mercifully brief, and successful in making you feel more personally connected, if not to the artists onstage, at least to the visionary who’s presenting them. So here, I will try to be all three of those things.

Hello, and welcome. Thank you for coming to Oregon ArtsWatch and clicking on this link. I’m impressed that you’re here, because you have (as of yet) no idea what you signed up to read! I hope to hold your attention by telling what might be a long story in several small chunks, and by throwing them at you from every which way.

I was a ballet dancer. I grew up, was infatuated with ballet, and took lots and lots of lessons. And since nothing else ever came along that was more interesting, I just kept doing it. Companies and choreographers hired me to dance for them; I followed jobs from city to city. I had a lot of experiences, rubbed shoulders with a Central Casting-worthy roster of “types”, had successes and disappointments, embarrassing moments, and ones I was proud of. Worked hard, relaxed some, injured various body parts over and over, loved what I did— but also dreaded it more often than you’d think. Basically, I lived the life of any, and every, professional ballet dancer. The specifics of each dancer’s story differ, of course, and the high points and low ones vary in their extremes, but at the core, we are all the same. We all know what makes each other tick.

Gavin Larsen in Val Caniparoli's "Lamberena" at Oregon Ballet Theatre. Photo: Blaine Truitt Covert

Gavin Larsen in Val Caniparoli’s “Lamberena” at Oregon Ballet Theatre. Photo: Blaine Truitt Covert

Despite the variance in detail that defines each dancer’s individual path, no matter where or when we’ve lived our dancer-lives, we share experiences. We’ve all gone through the bizarrely intuitive system of physical training, learned the same steps, made the same discoveries about our bodies. Felt the transformation from pedestrian to dancer and the exhilaration of freedom of movement. We all crave range of motion, precision, speed, and grace— with an underlying, unshakable strength of body and will.

And through our shared understanding of what we all live for, we ballet dancers have a bond as invisibly tight as the overworked glute medius that my physical therapist spent so many hours digging his thumbs into.

Over the next twelve days, I would like to invite you to journey with this “Everywoman Ballerina.” The “Everyday Ballerina,” perhaps. She whose identity is inseparable from her work, and therefore whose daily life includes stretching as routinely as yours includes brushing your teeth. I’d like to take you inside her skin and her pointe shoes, and bring you onstage with her. Sometimes, you might watch her from a distance, but you’ll also get to rehearse with her. I mean, really rehearse: you’ll see the studio through her eyes, and listen to her brain rapid-firing instructions step by step.

The Everywoman Ballerina wasn’t born that way; she grew. So you’ll watch as she stumbles into the wrong class as a child but is too terrified to say anything. Luckily, she was too scared by a tyrannical Greek teacher to quit— she just tried harder to do what he demanded.

Most performances begin at the beginning, but this one will start near the end. So please, read on, into the ordinary miracle that it means to be an Everyday Ballerina.

*

 

COMING UP DAILY FOR THE NEXT ELEVEN DAYS: 

  

2:         The New York School of Ballet (part 1)

3:         The New York School of Ballet (part 2)

4:         The New York School of Ballet (part 3)

5:         The Summer of 1992

6:         Into the Night

7:         Orange

8:         The Human Monolith

9:         Places

10:       The Drive Home

11:       Quivering

12:       The Time I Taught Someone Something

*

Born and raised in New York City, Gavin Larsen has been immersed in ballet’s “bizarrely intuitive system” since she was 8 years old and began to study in the same studios where George Balanchine had created some of his finest ballets. She moved on to the School of American Ballet, and a long career performing with Pacific Northwest Ballet, Alberta Ballet, the Suzanne Farrell Ballet, and as a principal dancer with Oregon Ballet Theatre. Since retiring from the stage in 2010, she has taught and written extensively for Dance Magazine, Dance Spirit, Pointe, Oregon ArtsWatch, The Threepenny Review, the literary journal KYSO Flash, and elsewhere.

DanceWatch Weekly: A late summer medley

Clear the way for TBA, A-WOL Dance Collective in trees, student dancers from NW Dance Project, JamBallah NW, India Festival and Interview with a Zombie.

The last month of a summer, that has never really looked like summer so far, is near. The dance offerings are slimming down as Portland prepares itself for a new performance season that begins September 8 with Portland Institute of Contemporary Art’s annual TBA festival. Clear your schedules now for performances, workshops, talks and dance parties with artists from Portland and around the world.

This does not mean that fantastic dancing cannot be found right now, because it can.
This weekend you can find A-WOL Dance Collective dancing in trees, catch the next generation of contemporary dancers from NW Dance Project’s summer intensive, or travel the globe with three days of performances and classes with JamBallah NW, a festival focusing on belly dance that will partner with India Fest on Sunday.

Interview with a Zombie by Portland choreographer Jim McGinn opens for a second run tonight, but happily/sadly it is completely sold out. If you didn’t get your tickets in time (or even if you did) you can get an in-depth look at his thought process and the making of the dance in my interview with McGinn last week.

Also beginning on Sunday, ArtsWatch will run a twelve-part daily series called Everyday Ballerina: The Shaping of a Dancer written by former Oregon Ballet Theatre dancer and and dance writer Gavin Larsen. The series will disclose the real-life challenges, uncertainties and triumphs of a ballet dancer’s life.

Upcoming performances

13995501_1147686928637641_7081677182413352473_o

A video still of Kelly Koltiska and Dustin Ordway in Interview with a Zombie by Jim McGinn. Photo courtesy of Jim McGinn.

Interview with a Zombie
Top Shake Dance directed by Jim McGinn
Featuring Kelly Koltiska, Celeste Olivares, Dustin Ordway, and Rachel Slater
August 5-12
New Expressive Works, 810 S.E. Belmont St.
Jim McGinn describes the show as “a peek into some possible future of post-human adaptation to changing environmental and biological landscapes. Interview with a Zombie probes our response to pervading uncertainty by asking questions such as: what are the neo-neurobiologies that we shall soon inhabit? From artificial intelligence to supplemental mobility, how are we preparing for our survival? Who are the untouchables in our lives, and what possible paths of redemption are acceptable? Join in this dance as we create some strange new religion for our future.”

McGinn is the artistic director of Top Shake Dance and has been a staple in the Portland dance community for more than 20 years. He has performed with Linda Austin, Catherine Egan, Keith V. Goodman, Linda K. Johnson, Carla Mann, Mary Oslund, and Tere Mathern, and has created many works of his own.

Interview with Jim McGinn on Interview with a Zombie

Double Difference
Linda K. Johnson and Linda M. Wysong
4 pm August 13, Double Difference Celebration
3 pm August 20, Panel, Demolition & the Stones of Ross Island
3 pm August 27, Artist talk
Indivisible Gallery, 2544 SE 26th Ave
(Indivisible is open for viewing: August 13, 20, and 27, noon to 5 pm)
In this gallery exhibit, Portland dance artist Linda K. Johnson and Linda M. Wysong, an environmental design and social practice artist, continue a 25-year, collaborative dialogue revolving around Portland’s layered and ever-changing landscape.

8630f204-bc1a-48b5-9ce3-c334c8cba881

Art in the Dark: By the Light of a Different Moon. Photo courtesy of A-WOL Dance Collective.

Art in the Dark: By the Light of a Different Moon
A-WOL Dance Collective
August 12-16
Mary S Young Park, 19900 SE Willamette Falls Drive, West Linn
A-WOL’s Art in the Dark, is an annual happening in the forest, suspended from trees. This year’s aerial theatre production illuminates the potency of light, set to a commissioned score played live by musician Dirty Elegance. For a closer look at A-WOL’s art, check out their feature story from 2015 on OPB’s Oregon Art Beat.

Summer Dance Intensive Showing
NW Dance Project
7:30 pm August 12
Portland State University, Lincoln Performance Hall, 1620 SW Park Ave
Students from NW Dance Project’s four-week summer intensive will showcase the culmination of their hard work, performing in selected works from NW Dance Project’s repertoire, and in new works choreographed by members of the company.

RachelBriceWeb_sm

JamBallah NW instructor Rachel Brice. Photo courtesy of Rachel Brice.

JamBallah NW
Presented by Narcissa Productions LLC and Marissa Mission
August 12-15
Artist Repertory Theatre, 1515 SW Morrison
Bellydance, fusion and Indian dance will take over Artist Repertory Theatre in a three day festival full of performances, workshops, lectures and shopping. Check out the JamBallah NW website for the full schedule of events.

finale

Photo courtesy of India Cultural Association.

Indian Festival 2016
Produced by the Indian Cultural Association
11 am – 9 pm August 14
Pioneer Courthouse Square, 701 SW Sixth Avenue
Portland’s Indian Cultural Association will celebrate India’s Independence and cultural diversity with live music and dance and food from many different regions.

Odysseo
By Cavalia
July 7-August 28
The White Big Top, located at Zidell Yards in South Waterfront, 3030 Moody Ave
Combining 65 horses, special effects, acrobatics, dance, aerial work and live music under a big top, this equestrian ballet celebrates beauty in nature, transporting the audience to virtual environments around the world.

image_main2_22 (1)

Photo of “Spiral” (1974)-choreography by Trisha Brown. Photo by © Gene Pittman 2008.

TREES IN THE FOREST
A group show curated by Kari Rittenbach
July 23-September 2, 2016
Opening July 23, 4-6pm
Gallery hours Thursday-Sunday 3-6pm
Yale Union, 800 SE 10th Ave
Three videos of works by Trisha Brown—La Chanteuse (1963), Falling Duet (1968), and Spiral (1974)—will be shown on a loop at Yale Union as part of a curated festival by Kari Rittenbach. Rittenbach is a graduate of Yale University, the Courtauld Institute of Art, and the Whitney Independent Study Program and is a writer and independent curator based in New York.

The concept behind TREES IN THE FOREST: “Considering nature as a concept, structure, or formal subject, the exhibited works examine its cultural and social mediation, as well as “naturalized” systems of knowledge and power in the world at large. TREES IN THE FOREST takes an ecological approach to a disparate selection of recent art practices; it is an experimental survey of understudied territories in an era of routine environmental catastrophe.”

Upcoming performances
August 18, Headwaters Showcase #4: Video Art Edition + Tacos, Curated by Ben Martens
August 25-September 11, Visiting Alembic Artist Margit Galanter, Performance Works NW
August 27, Late Summer Harvest: A Showing of Two Works in Progress, choreographers Eliza Larson, Taylor Eggan and Daniel Addy
September 10, Collection, NW Dance Project
September 8-18, TBA: 16, Portland Institute for Contemporary Art

  • Season1617_artswatch
  • OAW 2016-08 Green
  • 300X250_artswatch
  • Print
  • NFN_300x250
  • Artslandia Daily Calendar