Dance Paper, The Koresh Dance Company

DNCE 320
Evolution: the Koresh Dance Company
February 2, 2010

On Friday, January 29, I saw “Evolution,” performed in Temecula by the Koresh Dance Company from Philadelphia. The work, choreographed by Company founder Ronen Koresh, consisted of fourteen unnamed individual segments presented with no pause or intermission.

The lighting for the entire piece was very simple. Most of the work was lit with bluish-white light coming in from each side of the stage. Occasionally, a single spotlight from above would highlight a dancer, and red light was used for one segment. The minimalist lighting, which left most of the stage in shadows, gave the dance the effect of something half-hidden, half-revealed, like we were watching a secret unfold.

The curtain opened to reveal a dark stage, bare except for a line of dancers in the shadows – three men and six women – dressed in pressed black trousers and suit jackets, posed all alike, standing still and leaning slightly forward. The slow stark electronic music began and the primary dancer, bare-chested and dressed in raggedy loincloth shorts, entered from the side of the stage. He half-crawled, half-slithered across the floor, bathed in a harsh white spotlight, ignored by the other dancers. His movements reminded me of the way an amoeba moves across a microscope slide, jutting out one appendage, then another, sometimes this way, sometimes that way, the rest of the body following in a slow progression. Each movement seemed to cause the dancer anguish and pain, as if it was a great struggle to even be alive. Near the end of this dance segment, as the primary dancer continued his difficult journey, each of the other dancers stood straight up and backed away into the dark. The last in line noticed the primary dancer and stepped forward to watch him, an expression of fascinated disgust on his face, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing and didn’t know what to make of it. He stood there for a moment, then also backed away as the lights dimmed.

The next dance segment featured the entire company, the men dressed in the raggedy loincloth shorts, the women in similar shorts, some with tank tops and others with halter tops. The dancers moved to the rhythmic music in ways reminiscent of chimpanzees, squatting, or moving with their knees bent and their arms swinging behind them as they cavorted across the stage. From time to time, individuals and then groups together would do a “face-washing” motion, squinting their eyes shut, slapping their faces with both hands, then blinking as if to clear their eyes of some debris or obstruction.

Suddenly a red spotlight lit one dancer from above. The rest of the company scattered and scrambled offstage, leaving him alone in the light. He stood up a bit straighter, and as he danced, I got the impression that his movements were being controlled by something outside of him, like a stringed marionette. He seemed to be in pain and resisted, almost breaking free a few times, but as the segment went on, his movements grew less disjointed and painful, and more coordinated and flowing. The music built to a crescendo then suddenly stopped. The red light disappeared leaving the dancer standing upright, alone in the silence. He seemed to wonder what had happened to him and know that he would never be the same after his experience.

As he left the stage, a man and a woman entered. The man wore the same costume as before, but the woman had added a thin gauze-like unhemmed skirt which flowed with her movements. They danced to a Schubert lieder in what looked like a ballet pas de deux, except that their movements were angular, almost “raw.” Their arms and legs were bent, their toes not pointed, but ankles flexed. Each time the man lifted the woman, she cried out as if in pain. From time to time, they would revert back to the ape-like movements. It was like they were striving to reach a goal they could never quite touch, but they persevered, driven by a force they couldn’t quite understand. The poignancy of this dance – the juxtaposition of the balletic dance with the angular motions, the grasping for something just outside of reach without even really knowing what that thing was or if it was even worth the effort – nearly brought me to tears. This was, by far, my favorite segment in the entire piece.

The work progressed through several more solo, ensemble, and full company segments. In each one, the dancers’ movements seemed to become more refined, the ape-like movements fewer and farther between. The dancers stood more upright and gave the impression of gaining control over their bodies as the dance went on. The costumes changed, too. The men’s shorts changed from rags to velour, the women’s skirts became longer and hemmed, and both sexes added tops to their wardrobe, giving the impression that they were putting on “civilization” as they danced.

Here the professor wrote, "Well put - that is just what I am gathering as I read."

A woman appeared out of the shadows at the back of the stage. She was dressed in the pressed black trousers and suit jacket from the beginning. She stood erect, staring intently at the other dancers. They seemed to feel uncomfortable in her gaze and left the stage as if confused. As she faced down the last of the other dancers, she moved to the front and center of the stage, awash in a white spotlight from directly above. She began to dance in a combination of flowing and robotic movements. She pointed a single finger up toward the ceiling, then with her other hand, splayed her five fingers out to the audience. She repeated this several times throughout the segment, her movements becoming more frantic, more insistent as she danced. It seemed as if she was trying to tell us – the audience – something, trying to communicate some great truth that she had discovered and felt we must know.

Four men dressed in pressed black trousers, with white button-down shirts, hurried onto the stage. From time to time they glanced at their wrists as if checking their watches. They bustled about hither and yon, walking in circles, never seeming to notice the women they had just displaced from the stage. They didn’t even seem to notice each other, much less the audience. They moved very purposefully – and yet all the hustle-bustle seemed to not really mean anything at all. It was as if they were in their own little world, isolated from everything else, and nothing mattered except themselves.

Women entered, dressed in black trousers and suit jackets, dancing with pointed toes and extended arms and legs. One by one, the men left the stage, exchanged their white shirts for black suit jackets and returned. They lifted the women who seemed to sail across the stage like elegant swans on a lake. There were no cries of pain this time. Everybody seemed in perfect control of their bodies and danced with expressions of joy on their faces. From time to time, the angular motions returned, but they weren’t disruptive; they seemed to be natural and joy-filled, fully integrated into the dance. As the piece came to an end, the dancers shed their jackets and trousers, leaving them in a pile in the middle of the stage. They were dressed at the end as they were in the beginning, in raggedy loincloths. Each dancer stood fully erect, looking face-on at the audience as if daring us to continue what they had started.

It was like a declaration that as we humans grow and become more sophisticated, we shouldn’t lose sight of where we came from. The “raw” is nothing to be ashamed of, and indeed will always be a part of us and we should acknowledge and celebrate it rather than try to hide it.

Here the professor wrote, "What a glorious performance this must have been. I am thrilled you could attend. It sounds like you were transported into the piece, as I was in your re-telling. Bravo!"

My grade for this paper: A+.

Here's the YouTube video promo that the KDC put together for this show. The dances are not in the same order in the video that they are in the show, but it does open with the "amoeba" dance I describe, plus the Schubert dance is in there as well as the "5 & 1" dance. (I didn't talk about the other dances in the video, but they were all amazing.) The lighting is a bit different from what I remember, but maybe that theater had different equipment, or they've changed it a bit from when that was recorded. Anyway, here it is. Enjoy!