Vail Dance Festival: ReMix NYC

New York gets a taste of Vail’s adventurous spirit

Beneath the Moorish, mosaicked ceilings of New York City Center, East Coasters attending Vail Dance Festival: ReMix NYC experienced the exceptional selections of dance and music that have come to define summers in Vail. Year-round Manhattanites enjoyr stellar dance performances in a city that brings the best the world has to offer to the stage and boasts its own world-class companies. But the first days of November left even the most seasoned dance enthusiasts swept up by the expansive artistic vision to which Vail dance-goers are accustomed.

“Action-packed, stylistically eclectic and with deluxe casting,” praised The New York Times chief dance critic Alastair Macaulay of the thoughtfully constructed programs. In his 2016 year-end dance review, the critic singled out Sara Mearns’ ReMix performance of Alexie Ratmansky’s Fandago, stating “we’re lucky to live in times that produce creations and performances of this ilk.”

Like the Festival in Vail, each night was as dynamic as it was exceptional, with a repertory built off of 10 years of programming under the artistic direction of Damian Woetzel.

“I found it particularly exciting to see the music and dance come together in the historic space at City Center,” reflected Woetzel. “It was thrilling to premiere pieces created in Vail, but unseen in New York, and then on the same program to present Balanchine’s 1928 Apollo on the stage where New York City Ballet performed it in the 1950s.”

Apollo was presented in its seldom-seen original version, depicting the birth of the god, and was made complete with Kurt Crowley, Music Director of Broadway’s Hamilton and the Festival’s first Music Director, leading a full orchestra in Stravinsky’s invigorating score.

Live music added extra energy to an already dazzling lineup of dancers. Yo-Yo Ma, who first accompanied Lil Buck playing Camille Saint-Saens’s The Swan in a now-viral video, reunited with the jooker for a Jookin’ Jam Session, and was joined by a collection of musicians, including members of the Silk Road Ensemble, the Catalyst Quartet, and Kate Davis.      

Witnessing partnerships first cultivated in Vail was another highlight for New York audiences. Among many, one remarkable moment was the reuniting of Ron “Prime Tyme” Myles and Fang-Yi Sheu, whose exquisite Anywhere on this Road exemplifies the adventurous, collaborative spirit that is central to the Festival’s identity.

When asked if audiences can look forward to new iterations of Vail Dance Festival: ReMix NYC, Woetzel hinted that the happening was “designed and even titled with the anticipation of taking this to other cities.”

2017 VAIL DANCE FESTIVAL MAGAZINE


Catching Up with Misty Copeland

Since first joining us in Vail in 2011, the world has watched Misty Copeland soar with grace and dignity, all while maintaining a commitment to opening doors and inspiring others to excel. In addition to her performances with American Ballet Theatre and as a guest artist around the world, Copeland recently released a book on health, Ballerina Body, launched a dancewear line, and co-curated the Kennedy Center dance program, Ballet Across America. We checked in with Copeland to hear about her artistry, inspirations, and what she’s looking forward to this summer.

Sarah Silverblatt-Buser: Since your first time at the Festival, you’ve done so much to push the dance world forward, so I was hoping to hear from you as, first and foremost, a dancer and an artist. What do you love about dancing and why?

MC: Having an opportunity to do something that I haven’t been given an opportunity to do for most of my career is really freeing. I like being able to do things like Romeo & Juliet and Swan Lake where I can be extremely expressive and individual in my approach and artistry, and really become a character.

SSB: Are there any composers or musicians you are especially moved or inspired by?

I grew up with soul and R&B and hip hop, and I feel like when I’m not on stage, that’s still so much a part of what motivates me, what kind of calms me down before I go onstage... and really, I think, influences the way I perform as a ballerina.

SSB: I’m curious how our lives offstage influence the art we make on stage. Will you speak a bit more on that?

MC: Absolutely. I feel like when I started working with Prince -- when I met him, his presence, his belief in me – and then watching him perform and rehearse, has had such a huge impact on me as a dancer and as a ballerina. It opened my eyes to what’s possible and to not being afraid of taking chances and… it’s interesting that a rock star would do that for me.

SSB: When you speak of taking chances, what does that mean for you?

MC: When I think of myself and taking chances, it’s about letting myself go, being so completely immersed in the moment and present.

SSB: And now that you’re returning to Vail, is there anyone or anything you’re looking forward to?

MC: I always have a really good time with the dancers from other companies… Damian [Woetzel] just has such an open mind and heart and is really open to bringing in people and giving them opportunities to grow and be seen as the dancer that they are capable of being.

2017 VAIL DANCE FESTIVAL MAGAZINE


Modern in the Mountains

Modern dance thrives in the Vail Valley each summer, where fresh forms mingle with classical traditions. The Rockies are a testament to the weathering forces that have sculpted them over the years—and like the mountains, dancing bodies archive the past as present.

American modern dance originated in the late 19th century with Isadora Duncan’s Ancient Greek-inspired “free dances” and the Ancient Egyptian and Indian-inspired movements of Ruth St. Denis. Martha Graham later created the first American modern dance technique and company, laying the groundwork for many luminaries to follow. More than merely reacting to ballet, these contemporary artists explored new ways of living in and responding to the world they inhabited.

The Vail International Dance Festival maintains a commitment to both the classical and contemporary. Choreographers and dancers fluent in their own movement languages are invited to collaborate in unlikely partnerships, nurturing new relationships and perspectives. From Shantala Shivalingappa’s descriptive Kuchipudi—a style of Indian classical dance—to Rashaun Mitchell and Silas Riener’s boundless explorations into abstraction, the Festival programming encourages similarities to shine by preserving the beauty of difference. Though not all Festival choreographers and dancers collaborate directly, sharing studio space and programs such as NOW: Premiers offers artists the opportunity to explore where their embodied biographies might overlap.

The use of the body as an artistic tool cuts across disparate contexts, content and textures—be it Merce Cunningham’s avoidance of narrative and representation, Paul Taylor’s athleticism and meticulous musicality, or Trisha Brown’s attention to pedestrian gestures. Collaboration and juxtaposition enliven these histories, revealing the dance DNA that links the artists both to each other and to their antecedents.

This year, the Festival welcomes back Paul Taylor, who is frequently cited as one of the greatest living choreographers working today. Taylor has ventured into new artistic ground since 2013, his company’s last appearance in Vail. This past March, the Taylor company performed two commissions by outside choreographers, Doug Elkins and previous Festival choreographer Larry Keigwin, adding new influences to the company’s development. “Mr. Taylor has exemplified modern dance,” says Michael Trusnovec, the most senior member of the company. A true paragon of dance innovation, it is fitting for Mr. Taylor to welcome new choreographic voices.

The company’s comprehensive repertoire, fueled by Mr. Taylor’s encompassing musical interests, has established the troupe as foundational to American modern dance. Such abiding curiosity and creativity have allowed the company to progress in tandem with the shifting dance landscape.  

“We are discovering and stretching the meaning of the word ‘Modern’ because it continues to evolve,” Trusnovec explains, noting the sometimes “stuffy” association some have with the term. He suggests that, to combat this, dance not be rigidly parsed out into various eras and categories. Trusnovec’s love for all iterations of the art form is palpable: “With so much touring, the Vail Festival is definitely a highlight,” he says, “I admire a lot of these other artists. It’s impressive how intelligent the [programming] choices are. It’s like a laboratory for creation.”

Genre Clashing

Dance alchemy is a defining characteristic of the Festival, where Artistic Director Damian Woetzel’s commissions often result in revealing chemistry. Rashaun Mitchell and Silas Riener, who first began working together as dancers in the Merce Cunningham Dance Company, are inspired by the challenge of creating work across boundaries. Building upon their 2015 Festival debut, this summer the duo will create work on ballet dancers to a predetermined piece of music. Both elements are unusual for the choreographers. Typically, the two create on themselves or with other modern-trained dancers, and only add music as a texture after already establishing movement.

Investigating the clashing of genres, mediums and ideas is integral to their process, explain Mitchell and Riener in between performances at the Museo Jumex, a contemporary art museum in Mexico City. “The tension between the stylistic differences of the ballet and contemporary dancers” Mitchell says, “will certainly shape the content of what we’re making, which is exciting for us.” Riener agrees, adding that finding “common ground” among contrasting dance languages is an enlightening experience. Much of the pair’s work focuses on the “deeply honest and really individual self.” Such self-awareness, Riener explains, relies on the dancers’ access to their own physical and intellectual histories. It is in this abstract realm where unexpected connections are made.

Another former Cunningham dancer, Melissa Toogood, made her Festival debut last summer as well, dancing alongside Mitchell and Riener in addition to assisting choreographer Pam Tanowitz. Toogood will again be joining the duo, adding her bold yet sensitive style to the mix. Toogood was recently named a Dance Magazine “25 to Watch and calls herself an interpreter of all expressions of dance, from the abstract to the theatrical. When asked how she is able to bridge the many different worlds of her freelance career, Toogood describes Cunningham Technique classes as her anchor. Her consistent connection to a specific method is crucial to staying grounded while experimenting with new forms.

Shantala Shivalingappa similarly relies on a strong connection to her particular dance language when creating contemporary works. She admires the Festival for its celebration of multiple genres, and is excited to rejoin VIDF’s vibrant and welcoming atmosphere. Shivalingappa has a robust history of collaboration, having worked with artists including the French ballet choreographer Maurice Béjart and the groundbreaking postmodernist Pina Bausch. In 2014, Shivalingappa worked with Lil Buck, a Festival regular, and will likely collaborate with the Memphis Jookin’ innovator again this summer.  

Shivalingappa’s dance vocabulary of Kuchipudi dates back over 2,000 years and is a marriage between pure rhythmic movement and dramatic narrations. Shivalingappa credits her mastery of Kuchipudi with enabling her to interpret unfamiliar dance and music genres. She is fascinated by the complexities that arise through the deep study of a codified technique, mentioning the similarities between Lil Buck’s incredible precision and her discrete hand movements or mudras.

But Shivalingappa is drawn to the humanity of the dancer even more than superb technique. “Something about the inner approach is the same,” she says. “When you come through the language of dance and music and rhythm and shared energy, you realize we can all be connected in some way.” 

Jodi Melnick, whose Festival debut was in 2012, enticingly expresses her own inner world. Melnick is a supremely intelligent dancer and possesses an innate ability to synthesize multiple levels of movement knowledge. Also a highly regarded teacher, her classes focus on awakening the body from the inside out by using imagery that draws awareness to each element of the body and how they all connect.

One of Melnick’s most influential collaborators was Trisha Brown, whose work focuses on the sequential nature of movements more than a singular movement or shape. Melnick’s choreography, while decidedly her own, echoes Brown’s process. She has been described by The New Yorker as mercurial, “like water made human,” simultaneously expressing vulnerability and strength.

While a work of modern dance may not move mountains, it certainly does chisel an artistic landscape. Balancing on the precipice of the past and present, this summer’s contemporary choreographers tenaciously carve space into the future.

2016 VAIL DANCE FESTIVAL MAGAZINE

Normalizing Relations with Cuba Is a Difficult Dance

Sarah Silverblatt-Buser is a special projects associate with the Aspen Institute Arts Program. Below, she describes her experience as a study abroad student in Havana, Cuba, and the complexities of being a foreigner with more power than imagined.

Aprovechar was one of the first words our group of 12 American study abroad students discussed while anxiously anticipating our 4 a.m. wakeup for the next day’s 45-minute flight to Havana, Cuba. “To take advantage, to make use of, to harness” are direct translations of a multipurpose verb that means much more in a country slowly suffocated by a messy 54-year embargo (or “blockade” as it’s still called in Cuba).

The recent normalizing of relations between Cuba and the US creates a host of complicated contradictions.

As with most translations, these don’t quite do it justice. “To be of use” might come closer. It seems less imposing, less transactional, more generous. Even still, without the nuances of context, our naively American, result-driven tendencies compelled us to understand aprovechar as primarily individualistic. We were going to Cuba to take advantage of this special opportunity, to make the most of a fleeting four-month “experience.”

My first month in Cuba was, as most visitors experience, a series of realizations of reality. In addition to my academic courses at la Universidad de la Habana, I attempted to take an Afro-Cuban dance class at el Instituto Superior de Arte (ISA). A confiscated country club, the prestigious art school receives students from throughout the world, and provides free education for aspiring Cuban artists — what a dream! Free arts education! I was finally going to live in a place that truly validated my passion. But, like many things in Cuba, my foreign fantasy turned out to be a bit more complex than I’d imagined.

Dance is my thing. It’s what gives me life and a lens to see the world. Like the transience of aprovechar, dance takes on a different shape and meaning depending on the setting. But unlike our original, individualisitc understanding of the verb, there’s almost always more to be gained by the whole than its parts.

Dance exists beyond ownership. It is a process of simultaneous destruction and creation that can become familiar in even the most foreign circumstances. I was drawn to Cuba by the fantasy of a society that celebrated and structurally supported such a process of expression. What would it be like to live in a country whose national hero, the “Apostle of Cuban Independence,” is a poet, Jose Marti? Or where art and culture are meant to engage citizens in responsible participation, through the “expression of one’s own human condition,” as Che Guevara asserted in his immortalized essay, “Socialism and Man in Cuba?” Were people really always dancing and singing in the streets?

My idealization of an artful society was abruptly confronted when, after a few weeks of intense classes, my professor stopped showing up. I was confused and frustrated. How could I lose so much precious time that should have been taken advantage of some other way? The privilege in my impatience became apparent when my Cuban peers didn’t seem so surprised by her absence. It was likely, a new Cuban friend explained with a shrug, that our professor was elsewhere teaching private classes to foreigners, where she could make significantly more money than the state salary she earned at ISA, and it was entirely her prerogative.

It’s true that artists are revered in Cuba. For their talent, but also because of the social capital they gain from interacting with outsiders. Unlike most Cubans, artists have the ability to travel off the island. If they don’t defect, like many do, they can at least return with cash and an alternative perspective. With limited material resources to provide opportunity for wealth, it makes sense that invisible assets like culture capital are utilized to accumulate actual hard currency. And with Western businesses recognizing that experiences sell better than products, Cuba is the juiciest forbidden fruit, ripe for cultural cherry picking.

The recent normalizing of relations between Cuba and the US creates a host of complicated contradictions. Cuba has been slowly transitioning towards private enterprise since the collapse of the Soviet Union, of its own accord. Nevertheless, most Americans I talk with can’t help but look at me and sigh, “Wow, you’re so lucky you were there before we change it all.” Typical of American presumption, such a statement ignores the agency of the Cuban people and government in the process of negotiation.

Aspects of life in Cuba remain severely dated, absolutely, but Cuba has advanced itself in impressive ways — such as a lower infant mortality rate than the US and a 99.8 percent literacy rate — especially considering the economic restrictions it has endured. Even so, many Cubans I met were anxious for change, hoping to keep a socialist sense of solidarity while advancing private enterprise to secure more personal capital.

People do what they need to do to survive. My professor made the most of her situation to the detriment of the Cuban students. I’m sure the foreigners in the private class enjoyed themselves and learned a lot, but I’m also sure they didn’t realize what power they unknowingly held over the Cuban students. I was grateful to my local classmates for later introducing me to the técnica cubana classes held at el Teatro Nacional. With patience, the community that became my sustenance was revealed to me through a shared love of movement and music, more than a blatant desire for experience. And yet, two years later, I’m still discovering the repercussions of coming and leaving.

We all live navigating our own contradictions. My hope for the coming thaw is that we as Americans tread lightly and thoughtfully: that we help only when it is asked, that we question ourselves, and that we may arrive at an understanding of aprovechar as an action of collective achievement, aware of our power.