Friday and Saturday at Akron’s Ice House, former GroundWorks dancer Amy Miller’s Running to Earth had all the drama and mystery of treasure hunters.
The world premiere piece, set to original recorded music by Peter Swendsen of Oberlin, had a gripping sense of urgency created not only by the five dancers, but also by Dennis Dugan’s incredible lighting.
The prevailing darkness punctuated by points of light helps tell the story of those constantly in search of something. Miller, who now lives in New York, got her inspiration for the dance’s title and concept from the idiom ‘‘running to earth,’’ which refers to finding something after a long search.
The search could represent anything audience members wanted it to. Swendsen’s digitized music, an integral part of building the dance’s urgency, includes ranging from what sounds like an airplane landing to the idea of rain.
From the start of the dance, Felise Bagley is an outsider, walking calmly, carefully and slowly in her quest around the stage as the four other dancers dart in near-constant motion. The four pause and crouch around a very small point of light on the floor as if they’ve found something wondrous, their bodies tense as they hunch over their discovery.
It’s as if Bagley is searching for something different in a different manner. At one point, the others run backward, away from her. In another moment, she is walking right through their discovery of light.
One feels some competition in the search, as the other dancers push Sarah Perrett’s shoulder repeatedly to change her position, her body responding mechanically.
Miller also creates some humor as the four dancers appear to be checking their hair and outfits quickly in imaginary mirrors, possibly in preparation for their quests.
We’re not sure whether the search is ever over but the dance’s ending is quite spectacular, as the four dancers face stage left, jockeying for position in their efforts to see into the light.
In the Akron performance, both Running to Earth and the world premiere of David Shimotakahara’s Flag were abstract modern dances set to digital music of varying soundscapes. Swendsen’s original composition melded well with the dancers’ searches but David Bird’s digitally enhanced sounds were harder to get into in Flag.
Shimotakahara, GroundWorks’ artistic director, took a highly cerebral approach to this dance, exploring physical ways to portray opposites, including stasis and instability. The choreographer said his dance became about change, and human beings’ efforts to create permanence in a world of unpredictability.
The dancers wore red or blue asymmetric shirts or vests with handkerchief hemlines by Kristine Davies that were evocative of flags, a symbol Shimotakahara chose for both its idea of permanence and the way it reacts to the wind.
Bird, a graduate student in Oberlin’s Technology in Music and Related Arts Department, incorporated sounds like the chimes of church bells and clock towers in his composition. He also designed video – projected straight onto the Ice House’s vast back brick wall – that looked like water streaming sideways, and shadowy, constantly moving visions of what might be leaves. The videos were so arresting at times, you had to remind yourself to watch the dancers on the floor.
Shimotakahara had a recurring motif where Perrett put each hand on either side of her head to position herself differently – an interesting and very unusual move. Dancers appeared to be struggling either against themselves or against outside forces, as in the final image Damien Highfield created, as if his body was being pulled in a clockwise pattern of disjointed pirouettes by forces he couldn’t control.
Finally, the dance troupe performed one of its most popular favorites, Shimotakahara’s Major to Minor. The fun-loving dance, set to the music of female jazz vocalists, was a showcase for Shimotakahara’s great sense of humor. Perrett and Katie Taylor were sexy vamps in their ultra-short pink and orange dresses, especially funny as they watched amusedly as Highfield had a temper tantrum between them in the tune Comes Love.
More humor came with a banana gag in Peanut Vendor, but the mood became tender as couples Taylor and Highfield and Perrett and Gary Lenington said their lovers’ goodbyes in Cole Porter’s Ev’ry Time We Say Goodbye, whose lyrics provided the dance’s Major to Minor title. Sandwiched between the evening’s two abstract dances, this selection illuminated the company’s great variety and range.
Arts writer Kerry Clawson may be reached at 330-996-3527 or kclawson@thebeaconjournal.com.