The Philippine Online Chronicles

Each awkward step, belabored utterance, estimating sideway glance, powerful swish of the head accompanied by sudden drop on the floor, body prostrating, porous and ambivalent gave off an uncertain naïve nostalgia for things past. Whether a hysteric call for change, addressed to no one in particular, or sober admission of the way things are proved rather inconsequential, if not altogether unclear. What had transpired could have been easily dismissed as another one of those indulgent self-effacing displays of vulnerability – beautiful and poignant.  And isn’t this what dance is about, a “universal art form, through which as humans we could all communicate and share our common experiences”?  Even (role) play out our differences. The body being what Andre Lepecki calls the zero degree of communication where possibilities of understanding and the distance of recognition of differences (misunderstanding) merge.

Not until the curtains closed, signaling the end of an afternoon of exhausting dancing. Outside the theater, the usual dance crowd mingled exchanging customary congratulatory pats on the backs. Yet, amongst those bodies, one cannot help but wonder if indeed time can ever bend in favor of indecision or hesitation or agenda. Isn’t it after all, the unimposing yet unforgiving mother dictator, who once threw her child out into the wild to fend for itself as an ultimate act of her love and affection? A systemic violence necessary, in so far as distance is the “normal condition for any communication.” Time, like life, will always go on with our without us.

So despite the tempting option of skipping the performance and instead formulating conjectures based on assumptions and hearsay, there was enough curiosity left to overcome this self-referential lazy contemporary posturing to catch Ballet Philippines Neo-Filipino: Dance in the Time of Change. Despite the already worn-out tone of “change,” thanks to the healthy doses of election campaigns nudging at our ears every minute, not to mention the visual clog on the already convoluted traffic on Facebook. Despite the possibility that there was nothing new to see, given that Ballet Philippines has been reliably churning out a well-rounded predictable programming of standard original Filipino ballets, neo-classical and modern repertoire and of course, the indispensible run-of-the-mill ballet classics (which always draw in the largest crowd compared to their more “experimental” offerings) throughout the years. In fact this is why its long-time patrons and audience members still go – to partake of a childhood memory keep intact by it’s near-emptiness. Pure nostalgia perhaps because truth is, no one wants change. For the reassuring comfort of fulfilled expectations is indisputable.

Besides, watching while work is still an entertaining voyeur pervert experience, a pure act of self-reflexivity. Sans the necessary reference to the title of the program, the most compelling reason to watch Neo-Filipino is because it stands out from the rest of Ballet Philippines’ season as the more experimental of their offerings. This year, with Paul Morales as newly appointed artistic director, there has been a deliberate attempt to foray into contemporary dance, a field once only pursued by the so-called independent practitioners. Still I wouldn’t be surprised at all if the contemporary category in popular television show, So You Think You Can Dance? had a hand in this.

There seems to be then that general notion of contemporary as current and accessible, because it is current. Yes, a frustrating loop of double binds deceptively sounding clever but one which cannot hide a hint of convenience. Not that this is entirely wrong but to simply propose a contemporary dance practice based on contemporary way of moving and creating movements with the body is not really productive at all nor entertaining—but mildly annoying. And hence, the preoccupation to inject affect, mistaken for content, into the choreographies featured in the program. As most pronounced in Novy Berber’s To Whom It May Concern a commentary piece on the not-so-recent exodus of local performing artists to Disney, Universal Studios, Cirque-du-Soliel, and cruise ships. A tentative cry for help, so obvious in the general tone of a grieving letter, addressed to who will care to listen. No sob dance drama story here, in fact the opposite is shown with the dancers so craftily executing the very agility, technical competence and versatility that make Filipino prime commodity in the performing arts world. Ceasing to be an interior to find exterior articulation, but exterior that is the interior. What is even more interesting in this case is how the work reproduces the very master and noble-slave relationship typifying affluent theater/entertainment conglomerates and their willing cheap docile highly competent workers. Even the music, taken from Cirque du Soleil fittingly renders how the very “struggle” is mediated by a Broadwayesque aesthetic. Clad in tight-fitting asymmetrical outfits printed with signature ethnic patterns, the bodies transformed the stage into an abstract site of bodies in a state of journeying – seemingly neutral but marked –like mindless souls lost in limbo yet willing and resigned.

This similar discontent glimpsed in Elena Laniog’s fragmented piece Dust Underneath Unlit Lips, a trio evoking the frustrated correspondence of voice and body. Utilizing another conventional  ‘contemporary’ performance strategy currently in vogue. The dancers performed gestural actions insinuating disorientation, angst, and discomfort. Meanwhile, struggling with their own voice, a contradicting realization that voice is always that foreign thing residing inside a dancer’s body. Repeatedly the dancers uttered the phrase: “dust blurs sight” which almost feels like “dust blurs voice.”

Affect, exteriorizing “feeling” into action and mapping intensities on the body, is probably the least taken path in critical contemporary practice, where the demystification of the theater apparatus and ideological constructs of self and identity take precedence over “feeling.” But not here, injecting feeling is equated with contemporariness. I remember one young choreographer in a local television program explaining contemporary dance as “dancing your emotions.” Even Dwight Rodrigazo’s Wim-sical, intended as a formal meditation/mediation on “Wim Mertens music through space and lines,” was overflowing with emotions.  The all female-cast virtuously displayed the physical prowess, and baroque maximalism that is Rodrigazo’s signature.  Perhaps suggesting a counter to the female body stereotype as submissive, frail, timid and modest. Yet isn’t the depiction of women as powerful, athletic, strong, versatile, and efficient not an ideological re-articulation of the female body as machine? In fact, this proposal to tease issues on gender inequality only produces much more complex oppression and inequalities. So what better way to put it than in the frame of  “w(h)imsical”?

In contrast to Tinnie Crame-Santillan’s whimsical even deceptively shallow Blind Date, which stands out among the rest of the pieces in this program, not in its light-hearted topic but precisely in how she manages to mask the discursive in the shallow. Proof that one need no heavy motherhood themes to be contemporary.  Crame-Santillan unraveled the apparatus of the stage by calling out the obvious, with an opening billboard projected on the screen announcing the title, cast, music and setting of the piece. Never mind the kitchsy camp barrio-style acting of the dancers, it was through and through a 1960’s Sampaguita picture dance production number and did not pretend to be otherwise. This is why the piece having not resorted to the usual creative representation of an abstract idea, worked by taking the path of the ‘literal’ –- it communicated and delivered to expectation.

Similarly Carissa Adea’s Rey-Sing, whether alluding to Rey (who’s Rey?) singing or simply a witty word play on ‘racing is still unclear. But never mind. Adea straightforwardly approached the subject of her choreographic research, focusing on the physical and formal aspects of her theme, choosing to leave the narrative out of the picture, even refusing a resolution.  Such single-minded of vision corresponds to the highly stylized gestural movement exploration of the dancers, clad in basketball uniforms, training for the next big game.  Racing against their selves and racing against time, running the distance only to stay in place.

There is nothing more tempting and equally dreadful than the future or perversely gratifying than the satisfaction of not knowing what lies ahead. Even those who can read people’s thoughts have resigned to keeping themselves from knowing.  The pleasure of watching a performance unfold is the moment of distinct recognition that signals a sense of connection, even if it is incomplete. So perhaps ‘change’ is not so much an important topic to talk about, even unnecessary because dance is already an admission to change. The amount of physical force needed to stay in inertia is as potent as the desire to keep moving forward. Dancing to a time of change is close to saying dancing to stay put.  And this is what Neo-Filipino puts forward, the necessity of the status quo, the necessity of a middle ground, if only those who can move on can move on and those who chose the comfort of habit can stay in place. Which begs the question again and again, is contemporary enough as saying being current and relevant?

Ballet Philippines’ Neo-Filipino 2010: Dance in a Time of Change featured new dance works by Alden Lugnasin, Dwight Rodrigazo, Tinnie Crame-Santillan, Elena Laniog, Novy Berber, Ea Torrado, Ronelson Yadao and Carissa Adea. 05-07 March 2010 at CCP Little Theater.