DANCE

Stowell heads south as Oregon Ballet Theatre nabs a new ED

Christopher Stowell has a promising new job at the San Francisco Ballet, and his old company has a new executive director

Christopher Stowell, Oregon Ballet Theatre’s artistic director from July of 2003 to December 2012, is returning to San Francisco Ballet as ballet master and assistant to Helgi Tomasson, company artistic director and principal choreographer, effective August 25.

“I’m so happy to officially announce that I’m returning to SFB! I’ll be working alongside Helgi both in the studio and as his liaison to the administrative staff,” Stowell said on his Facebook page on Friday, adding that he “can’t wait to get back to the city and company I love.”

Christopher Stowell rehearses "Rite of Spring" at OBT/Photo by Blaine Truitt Cover

Christopher Stowell rehearses “The Rite of Spring” at OBT/Photo by Blaine Truitt Cover

In his role as ballet master, Stowell will teach SFB Company class and rehearse ballets for the repertory season, as ballet masters do in every company, working once again with former OBT dancers Julia Rowe and Grace Shibley, However, as assistant to Tomasson, to whom he will report directly, Stowell will have his fingers in just about every aspect of the company pie on both the artistic and administrative (read financial) sides.

“Many may remember Christopher from his long and successful career in the Company,” Tomasson said in a company press release. “[He] joined San francisco Ballet in 1985 and was promoted to principal dancer in 1990. I look forward to working closely with both him and our current Ballet Master and Assistant to the Artistic Director in these complementary roles,” he said.

Since leaving OBT at the end of 2012, Stowell has been exceedingly busy teaching internationally, choreographing, and staging work by other choreographers, most recently Christopher Wheeldon’s “Rush” (which is in OBT’s repertoire) at the Beijing Dance Academy in China and Balanchine’s “Liebesleider Waltzes” (with Francia Russell) for SFB.

In an interview I had with Stowell last month,slated down the road for publication in Ballet Review, I asked him what his ideal company would be. His answer? “One in a city which has a history of supporting ballet,” citing San Francisco as one which gives just as much support to the arts as it does its sports teams. San Francisco Ballet is well established; it is the oldest professional ballet company in the United States and one of the largest. Looks like Stowell has struck gold.

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While Stowell was heading south, Oregon Ballet Theatre was making some news itself, today announcing that its current artistic director, Kevin Irving, has signed a three-year contract to lead the company’s artistic side. At the same time, OBT announced that after an 18-month search, it had chosen a new executive director, too. He’s Dennis Buehler, and comes to Portland after leaving as executive director of the Milwaukee Ballet in February of this year.

Petrouchka sees himself and everything changes in Nicolo Fonte's "Petrouchka"/Photo: Blaine Truitt Covert

Petrouchka sees himself and everything changes in Nicolo Fonte’s “Petrouchka”/Photo: Blaine Truitt Covert

“I quickly felt a strong connection with Oregon Ballet Theatre and could not be more delighted to be joining Kevin and the entire OBT team at this time,” Buehler said in the press release announcing his appointment. “They have positioned themselves very well and I am confident we can continue to develop this company into one of this country’s premier dance organizations. Portland is a region that makes access to the arts a high priority and Oregon Ballet Theatre is building a foundation to sustain that for generations to come.”

The budget of the Milwaukee Ballet is very close to that of Oregon Ballet Theatre (around $5 million according to its most recent 990 report), its programming is similar, and it also has a ballet school, which received national accreditation during Buehler’s tenure.

Buehler will start at OBT in September. The company begins its 25th season October 11-18 in Keller Auditorium with a world premiere by Nicolo Fonte, three duets by James Canfield, Stowell, and Trey McIntyre, respectively, and Balanchine’s “Agon.”

Ballet Diary 4: breathe like a pro

Four weeks into her crash course in dancing, our ballet aspirant's body demurs, but her lungs learn a lesson

Walking back on the Hawthorne Bridge after last week’s ballet lesson, I felt a sense of pure…expanse.

The weather was hot and balmy, sunlight still bright even at 9 pm. My bad ankle hurt in the sharp-pang, woken-up way, the halfway point between its dull-ache swell and those rare times it pretends it’s fine. The Willamette was blue, the bridge railing was red. The dragon boats were out. It was all popping.

I was flooded with ballet insights to share with you, the ArtsWatch readers who are following my mid-life efforts at beginner ballet training from Northwest Dance Project (really more a form of arts writer continuing education than an attempt to master the art—the words “college try” apply). But it’s only now, after another week has passed, that I’m finding the words and time.

ballet 4

As I left Lincoln Hall (NWDP’s summer home), I’d passed my teacher, Renee Meiffren, in the breezeway. “Good job today!” she beatifically lied. But I’ll take it. Because I do try.

The first thing I was going to tell you was to clarify a detail from a prior post. “I think when you describe corps de ballet, you really mean barre,” a fellow arts writer discreetly corrected me on Week 3. It would seem so, but no. I did say—and mean—the corps de ballet. Meiffren had arranged us in a tight row on Week 2 and had us hold hands, explaining the configuration of corps de ballet and letting us try a few steps in that arrangement. I revised my text to make that more apparent.

“Sounds more like a ‘ballet appreciation’ class,” sniped my friend, who, out of respect for the discipline and technique that ballet requires, balked at the idea that newbs would get to try advanced moves, just for fun, possibly too early in their learning curve.

Back when I was considering an education minor, this very debate was all the rage in language arts. Do we drill students on sentence structure, punctuation and parts of speech, preparing them for the privilege of expressing themselves later…or do we just let them tell their stories right now, and then try to help them refine their craft as they go?

“You’ll entitle sloppiness!” frets one side.
“You’ll crush expression!” worries the other.

Perhaps both fail to account for the different ways we learn. A chance to try the “fun stuff” first can inspire some amateurs, but it gives others a dangerously false sense of mastery, or a dangerously discouraging recognition of how far they are from competence. Meanwhile, dogged repetition of basics can provide comforting consistency and realistic goals for some new learners, but it can leave others bored and unstimulated. In any case—I found out which kind of learner I am.

Continues…

At Conduit, a vote for brevity and wit

Dance+ continues with a smart, quick dance by Kyle Marshall

Brevity, the long-winded Polonius says in Hamlet, is the soul of wit. That can also apply to non-verbal communication, and Kyle Marshall’s “Soundboard,” the shortest of the nine pieces included in this year’s version of Conduit’s annual Dance+ Festival, is a perfect example.

The New Yorker is the real deal, a young choreographer (he received his BFA in dance from Rutgers University in 2011), and with “Soundboard” he has made a solo for himself that is at once lean and expansive. A beguiling dancer, he not only engages with the audience (he makes eye contact, even!) he embraces it, a rarity in the frequently solipsistic terrain of contemporary dance.
It can be tricky to dance to spoken text, but Marshall, costumed by Meagan Woods in well-tailored slacks and open-necked shirt, moves with ease and energy and engagement to the words of Allen Ginsberg, spoken by the poet—the “soundboard” of the title. I found much of the verbiage in both Dance+ programs (and there was a lot of it) difficult to hear, but such phrases as “contained in my room” and “privilege to witness my existence” were amplified by Marshall’s spacious movement. It was our “privilege to witness [his] existence as a dancer,” not to mention his sheer joy in performing, pushing at air with his hands, walking, jumping, spiraling through and around the wonderful space that Conduit is for dancing.

Kyle Marshall in 'Soundboard' at Dance+/Jim  Lykins

Kyle Marshall in ‘Soundboard’ at Dance+/Jim Lykins

Small wonder that Marshall is currently performing with Doug Elkin, Tiffany Mills (with whom Tere Mathern shared an evening at Conduit in March) and Woods, another Rutgers graduate, who apart from costuming for Trisha Brown, Merce Cunningham, Robert Battle and the like, has her own company and also runs a festival.

“Soundboard” concluded the first half of Part II, which I attended Thursday night. The show began with “Veil,” also a solo, choreographed and performed by Zahra Banzi, arguably another “witness” to the existence of the artist, in which she danced with her own shadow, projected and animated by Dylan Wilbur. I thought of Lucinda Childs’ groundbreaking “Dance,” which premiered at BAM in 1979, in which film of the dancers was projected simultaneously with live performance of the same movement, but that didn’t keep me from enjoying Banzi’s honest, expressive, heartfelt dancing. Like Marshall, she is a generous mover, and there was some playfulness in the way she interacted with Wilbur’s animation.

These solos bookended “before the dawn,” a collaboration of Meshi Chavez—who, the program note says, is passionate about butoh, arguably the most culturally specific dance form in Terpsichore’s quiver—and electronic composer Roland Ventura Toledo, performed by Teresa Vanderkin and Joe McLaughlin. The same program note tells us that the duet “was inspired by Ankoku, (the spiritual aspect of dance) and by imagery of moths, moonlight, longing and desire. It seeks to create a sense of something that has no beginning or end.”

“before the dawn” certainly created a sense of having no end (I didn’t think it ever would), and it has a very clear beginning as Vanderkin, who has a gorgeous long-limbed body and looked extremely chic in a purple tiered cocktail dress, and McLaughlin, in street clothes, inched their way along an invisible line in single file to the front of the space. “Tip-toeing toward Bethlehem” crossed my mind, a paraphrase on Yeats’ “slouching toward” ditto from “The Second Coming,” quoted in the program notes for “Beast” in Program I.

Then as the music started to sound like bombs going off and Vanderkin lifted her arms and began to move spastically, I couldn’t help thinking of the corpse of a Palestinian child on the beach in Gaza, whose image was on the front page of Thursday’s NY Times. That’s not the composer’s fault or the choreographer’s—this piece was made long before this latest appalling development in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, that also seems to have no end, but it certainly colored my perceptions of the choreography, making it seem pretentious and glossy. The music, on the other hand, was shattering, physically and emotionally.

Zahra Banzi performs "Veil" at Conduit's Dance+ Festival/Photo by Jim Lykins

Zahra Banzi performs “Veil” at Conduit’s Dance+ Festival/Photo by Jim Lykins

“Confluence,” Christopher Peddecord’s new film made in collaboration with Northwest Dance Project’s Lindsey Matheis, followed the intermission. Let me say at the outset that as a long time viewer of dancing, committed to the immediacy of the exchange that takes place between artists and viewers (or listeners) that occurs only in live performance, as endangered a species as the polar bear, I vastly prefer to watch the melding of film and live dancing (see above) to a stand-alone film in a concert of this kind. And while “Confluence” was performed by many excellent dancers, including Banzi, Oregon Ballet Theatre’s Jordan Kindell and Michael Linsmeier, and Northwest Dance Project’s Victor Usov, they were given to perform just about every movement cliché in the book, from aggressively glittering eyes to what looked suspiciously like a group grope. I liked last year’s Peddecord film considerably better; in that one, his approach was reminiscent of the surrealism of Jean Cocteau’s “Beauty and the Beast.”

Part II concluded with “Radiation City,” performed by its creator, radical child/Alexander Dones and Kara Girod Shuster, a native Oregonian and former BodyVox member. The piece also incorporates film, starting with a humor-tinged list of ways to die that includes self-immolation, a metaphor for radical child’s motto: “create. Love. burn,” a more dramatic version of the late Jann Dryer’s motto: “Frame it. Do it. Drop it.” It’s way too long and way too wordy and terribly self-conscious, but both Dones and Shuster are very good dancers, and there is a kernel of innovative movement, particularly in the fall/catch/fall partnering, that would be easier to see if some of the verbal distractions were pared away. “Radiation City” is overstuffed with ideas and needs serious editing, the hardest thing for young artists to do.

“Luna,” the piece that concluded Part I of Dance + and in which I took the most pleasure in watching, also needs editing: It’s about five minutes too long. Created and performed by Anna Conner and Company, the Seattle choreographer had the courage to provide no program notes, but to rely on the dancing to deliver her message about the friendship, erotic and otherwise, of women. I liked it a lot.
Also “Black Friday,” sort of a visual commentary on Marx’s “alienation of the worker” applied to the consumer, and yes, a film, but I thought “Beast” needed a lot more fine-tuning and “Revivify” left me cold and bored, partly again because I couldn’t hear the text. (And in case anyone is wondering, I wear two hearing aids.)

Having said all that, Dance+ this year and in previous years has produced some interesting, innovative work, which is invariably well danced. So I am grateful to the director, Tere Mathern, and the funders, for giving these artists the opportunity to explore their ideas and hone their craft and show their work, and the Portland audience the chance to see the results. I look forward to seeing new artists next year, who perhaps have been challenged to make fifteen minute works rather than twenty. Gassy or not, Polonius had a lot of things right.

Dance card: News and notes of a choreographic persuasion

Trey McIntyre shuts it down, Northwest Dance Project, Conduit, Performance Works Northwest

Portland embraced choreographer Trey McIntyre during his stint as resident choreographer here in 1999—some of the bright contemporary dances he made then are still in Oregon Ballet Theatre’s repertoire (Like a Samba, Speak)and are invariably greeted warmly, and more recent contributions, such as Robust American Love, have continued the relationship.

When McIntyre started his own company, the Trey McIntyre Project, one of his co-founders was OBT dancer Anne Mueller, who as managing director helped guide what was a summer pick-up project through its first few years. She didn’t make the jump with McIntyre to Boise in 2008, but she was there for one of the company’s last performances at the Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival at the end of June.

“I thought this was a past chapter,” Mueller said last week, “but then I went and it was very emotional—in a fabulous way.”

Anne Mueller and John Michael Schert/ Photo by Jonas Lundqvist

Anne Mueller and John Michael Schert/ Photo by Jonas Lundqvist

I asked her about the New York Times story about McIntyre’s decision to close the company, and she confirmed its accuracy. McIntyre was tired of the pressure and amount of effort it takes to run and keep a touring dance company afloat. He’s rather introverted to begin with, which makes it even harder. He had lots of other creative ideas that he couldn’t pursue (film, photography, writing), and his original “team,” Mueller and John Michael Schert, had moved on.

“It’s worked really well, on a number of levels, and we’ve been able to innovate, but in the end, that level of output is just not sustainable,” McIntyre told the Times’ Marina Harss. That “level of output” was 20 dance works during the past six years, a phenomenal creative burst, especially for someone also responsible for running a dance company.

Not that McIntyre is going to stop making dances: He will return to the freelance choreographer’s life, including an evening-length Peter Pan for Queensland Ballet in Australia, which very well might look wonderful in Portland.

Mueller has just about completed her first year as managing director of Bag & Baggage, the Hillsboro theater company known for the imaginative flights of founder Scott Palmer. She hasn’t stepped away from dance since leaving her post as interim artistic director at OBT, though. She’s continued to dance, teach, choreograph and set dances on various companies. She’ll head to Tulsa this fall to set Nicolo Fonte’s Bolero on Tulsa Ballet, for example. So yes, endings lead to new beginnings.

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Last week I wrote about the first program of Conduit’s Dance+ festival, and I felt obliged to point out that the fourth floor studio can get a little on the warm side. Well, Conduit has brought in some air conditioners to help cool things off, and in any case this weekend is considerably cooler than last weekend.

Two more incentives: 1) Conduit will give you a free popsicle when you arrive (again, trying to keep things cool!); and 2) we’re hearing that Kyle Marshall’s solo, Soundboard, is amazing. You can get tickets online for the 8 pm shows, Friday and Saturday nights at Conduit, 918 SW Yamhill St.

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Northwest Dance Project is featuring new work by the two winners of its sixth annual Pretty Creatives International Choreographic Competition, Lesley Telford and Eric Handman, on Saturday night at PSU’s Lincoln Hall. Both Telford and Handman have terrific dance resumes: Telford has danced and choreographed for Netherlands Dans Theater, for example, and Handman has worked with a host of big name New York choreographers and teaches now at University of the Utah. Doors open at 7, dance begins at 7:30 on Saturday at Lincoln Hall, 1620 SW Park.

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Linda Austin’s Performance Works Northwest is hosting a summer party Saturday night at its studio, 4625 SE 67th Ave. Between 6:30 and 10 pm, Austin and such dancers as Luke Gutgsell, Noel Plemmons, Danielle Ross and Grace Hwang will improvise to music by Douglas Detrick and Ben Kates. Then there’s the video component, which will fill up the walls of the studio and an installation/performance by Jin Camou in a vintage Silver Streak trailer. Then things cool off (or heat up) with a dance party until midnight. It’s all free, including beverages and snacks! Such a deal.

Afternoon of a faun, interrupted

Public television's portrait of the great Tanaquil LeClercq is too little about the ballet, too much about the polio that cut her dancing career short

Afternoon of a Faun: Tanaquil Le Clercq, an American Masters film about the Paris-born dancer whose stellar career was cut short when she contracted polio at the age of 27,  was aired on OPB at noon on Sunday and repeats at the convenient hour of 2 a.m. this Saturday, July 19.

Directed by Nancy Buirski and billed as a “dance-disability documentary,” Afternoon includes some wonderful clips of Le Clervq dancing. But after a second viewing, I believe Buirski’s film to be deeply flawed, at least from a dance perspective, because the focus is on the polio, not the art. Footage of Le Clercq’s witty send-up of dance-hall girls (and of the ballet itself) in George Balanchine’s Western Symphony, the detailed drama of her performance of the doomed woman in the same choreographer’s La Valse, and her sensuous, narcissistic Nymph in Jerome Robbins’ Afternoon of a Faun – all roles she originated – show far more clearly than most of the film’s talking heads why she was muse to two of the greatest choreographers of the twentieth century.

LeClercq in repose, faun-like.

LeClercq in repose, faun-like.

There are exceptions: Pat McBride Lousada’s recollections of their close friendship as teenagers at the School of American Ballet, as well as her descriptions of the intelligence, wit and musicality with which Le Clercq infused her dancing, seem to me some of the best parts of the film. Jacques d’Amboise, whom we see dancing with her in Western and Faun, gives insights into the way she worked, as does Arthur Mitchell, who danced with her in Western the last time she performed, on tour in Copenhagen in 1956. Years later, Mitchell  persuaded her to teach from her wheelchair at the School of the Dance Theatre of Harlem, founded in 1968, and we see fascinating footage of that. But why in the world didn’t the filmmakers include an interview with Virginia Johnson, now DTH’s artistic director, and former principal dancer, who was in those classes and, Mitchell says on camera, owes much of her career to Le Clercq’s training?

Continues…

Ballet Diary 3: The jig is up

A stop-gap space for NWDP, a talk with the teacher, and the challenge of self-conscious creation

Now…which door is open after hours? And…which floor is the classroom on?

You’d think that by my third week of journaling a beginner ballet class for ArtsWatch (week one | week two) , I’d have fallen into a steady routine, slinging the same bag with the same camera and slippers over my shoulder, heading to the same studio to go through my gradually-improving motions. But this is a particularly dynamic time for Northwest Dance Project; they’ve just uprooted from their space of 10 years on Mississippi and Shaver and moved their summer activities, including my class, into PSU’s Lincoln Hall. For me, this replaces the last two weeks’ short drive to Northeast with an hour-long walk to downtown…which is a good warmup, actually. Probably something I should have been doing anyway.

Ballet students warm up in NWDP's temporary studio at PSU's Lincoln Hall.

Ballet students warm up in NWDP’s temporary studio at PSU’s Lincoln Hall.

Lincoln Hall is silent and slightly spooky, but a foamcore poster of dancer Andrea Parsons points to the stairs. As I head up the dim, echoey stairwell, a couple of buoyant Flashdance types bounce down. (Here a jaunty bandana, there an exposed shoulder.) They may be student dancers from NWDP’s LAUNCH Project summer intensive.

Continues…

Dance+: The more we dance together…

They were dancing in unison at the first Dance+ festival program

Because it was a warm day on Thursday, I took the elevator to Conduit’s fourth floor studio to catch the first program in this year’s installment of the Dance+ festival. Most of the people in line with me seemed to understand that the warmth would likely extend to the studio itself, so they dressed down and dressed cool. I did, too, and you’d be advised to do the same as temperature rise this weekend…because I think you will enjoy what’s happening on the dance floor. Fortunately, official word is that floor air conditioners are on the way to buttress the ceiling fans.

I’m going to describe specifically (and briefly!) the four pieces I saw in a moment. But first a word about unison dancing, when two or more dancers are dancing the same steps, either at the same time or serially (maybe as part of a little movement “round”). Unison dancing is a core tool for choreographers for lots of reasons: At the beginning of a dance it can establish the movement vocabulary of the piece, for example; it can emphasize a certain passage; it can provide a thesis for further movement antithesis to play against, even it just involves some independent solos. We could go on!

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For me, unison dancing can have other effects that are harder to explain, less technical and more atmospheric or subtextual or…something. For example, a lot of dance feels somehow “utopian” to me: In an ideal world we all meet each other and know our parts, when to partner and when to solo, and in solidarity we might start dancing together in unison. The underlying power of those disco scenes in Saturday Night Live was the almost tribal sense of connection the dancers had. Country line dancing has a similar effect.

Even in modern dance, which often seeks to describe or convey the effects of our dystopian world, I find a model for a better world: we’re all fit and agile and know what to do. And yes, unison dancing underscores that sense. It also factors into the erotics of dance, for me, but that’s a subject that takes more time and thought than I have available at the moment! But never fear, the erotic comes up in at least two of the dances in Dance+. And all of them had lots of unison dancing in one form or another.

Enough preamble: For Dance+ we have four dances, each less than 20 minutes, performed by small ensembles, often the result of a deep collaboration between a choreographer and another artist (composer or set designer, for example). And actually, the first piece on the program wasn’t a performance at all, it was a computer-animated video.

Black Friday; Parking Lot Dance II/Paul Clay and Todd Barton
Video artist Clay projected Black Friday onto one large central and two smaller flanking screens, starting it on the parking lot of a Target store before Black Friday shopping day, assembling a crowd of humans (who all look the same), sending the masses into the red mist melee inside the store, and then gathering them for a celebratory and, yes, tribal and, yes, unison “dance” at the end. I don’t know why I put parentheses around that dance: It was choreographed, an eerie intersection of the robotic and the naturally human. I’ve been syncopating my arm movements differently since seeing it!

I probably don’t have to underscore the theme, but maybe I should mention that Clay and composer Barton’s take on consumer culture is genuinely clever and looks and sounds great.

Jen Hackworth's "Beast," sculpture by Meghann Gilligan/Photo by Meghann Gilligan

Jen Hackworth’s “Beast,” sculpture by Meghann Gilligan/Photo by Meghann Gilligan

Beast/Jen Hackworth and Meghann Gilligan
Gilligan created the props for Beast, specifically a long red boa-like object, a black bird/dragon headdress, and a white geometric “sail,” not very tall but big enough to mostly conceal one of the dancers, Keyon Gaskin, for most of the dance and then an erotic mixing of limbs and torsos by Gaskin and Hackworth at the end of the piece.

Hackworth and Claire Barrera do most of the heavy dancing, and their very precise unison dancing near the beginning of Beast got me thinking about the subject to begin with. You have to be well-rehearsed to dance anything complicated in unison, and they did. Then they spun out into solos, usually very big movements or floor work, before experimenting with the props and concluding with the duet.

This Beast was a little scary, dangerous, unpredictable, and carried over the theme of discord and alienation from the film, oddly enough, though it didn’t end with a happy dance of contented consumers.

Revivify/Alter Structure
Alter Structure is Roland Ventura Toledo, who in Revivify created a dense sound environment with words from Maya Angelou and Steven Hawking, among others, mixed in. Toledo performed at a central console onstage, and as he began two black-suited dancers, Stephanie Lanckton and Mizu Deseirto, stood well behind him at the back of the stage, their backs to us, arms and bodies tilted at identical (unison) angles. When we saw their heads finally, they were encased in silvery masks. As the soundscape moved through various textures Lanckton and Deseirto continued to move in slow and angular ways, at first, mostly in unison, and then gradually picked up the pace and explored the spasmodic, before ending up in their own tangle on the floor at the end, then a separation, lovely really, reaching back for one another as they parted and the lights went to black.

Right. Anxiety. Because of the fans, maybe, I couldn’t understand many of the word in sound environment. One fragment from Hawking: “spontaneously created out of nothing.” He must have been talking about the Big Bang, and yeah, a universe spontaneously created out of nothing has scary implications.

Anna Conner and Company/Photo by Jim Lykins

Anna Conner and Company/Photo by Jim Lykins

Luna/Anna Conner + Co.
Conner comes from Seattle (everyone else on Program 1 was Portland-based, and she and her dancers Autumn Tselios and Julia Cross performed her very high energy, rough-and-tumble, toughly erotic choreography with great skill, including the most complex unison dancing and partnering of the evening. At the end of the show, members of each group were instructed to tell the audience 10 words about the piece. Cross said: “Our goal is to access our true vulnerability and power.” And they nailed it. Is there a story in Luna, a tale of dominance and submission in the roughhouse partnering that goes on? I didn’t process it that way, probably because narratives need characters and specific characters didn’t emerge for me. That didn’t keep Luna from engaging me at a very visceral level.

Program 1 of Dance+ continues at 8 pm through July 12.

Program 2, which features Zahra Banzi and Dylan Wilbur, Meshi Chavez and Roland Toledo, kle marshall and Meagan Woods, Christopher Peddecord and Lindsey Matheis, and radical child… and Kara Girod Shuster, runs at 8 pm July 17-19.

All shows are at the Conduit studio, 918 SW Yamhill St., Suite 401.

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