my thoughts to you so that they may pervade yours

dance hall hips, pretentious quips

My friend Stephanie Kim had bought me a ticket to see the Mark Morris Dance Group perform at the Krannert Center for the Performing Arts. We ate at Bread Company prior to the performance. I've been to the Bread Company three times before, but of everything I've tried, what I had that night was definitely the best. I had beef tenderloin medallions with caramelized onions, grilled asparagus, and roasted potatoes, with Gruyère on top. It had some sort of balsamic vinegar-based sauce, and was absolutely delicious. Even so, Radio Maria still remains to be my favorite restaurant around campus. I mean, it's going to be pretty hard beating that Curry Duck Hot Pot (grilled duck breast, mango, coconut curry, cilantro, and jasmine rice in a hot stone bowl).

Speaking of the fine arts and Radio Maria, there was a recital by Stefan Milenkovich. I've known his name for quite some time, having heard one of his Paganini recordings sometime in early high school, but he happens to be one of the resident violin professors here at the University of Illinois. His recital was last Wednesday, and with the flyer that I saw, he apparently played works by Paganini, Sarasate, Wieniawsky, and Ravel. That's quite a formidable set of composers when it comes to violin music, and I would have loved to go, especially at the incredible bargain of four dollars, but unfortunately the recital coincided with Bible study with small group. There was an after-party at Radio Maria, and I would have loved to go with the hope of a chance to speak with Milenkovich. Sadly I had some things that I needed to finish, so that was not an option.

Going back to the original purpose of this note, Stephanie and I went to see the Mark Morris group. Now modern dance isn't necessarily my cup of tea, especially after seeing a modern interpretation of Carmen last year. Kwonseok-samchon and Joohee-imo took me to see a dance troupe from Russia do a modern interpretation of Bizet's Carmen, and needless to say, I wasn't particularly impressed. I can't tell if it was the gratuitous amount of half-naked men, the absurd electronified arrangement of the music from Carmen, or the nonsensical choreography that turned me off. However, it was Stephanie's treat, and apparently this Mark Morris guy is kind of a big deal.

The performance was at the Tryon Festival Theatre, where all dance performances take place at Krannert, and upon reading the program, I was pleasantly surprised to see that we were going to listen to REAL classical music. There were three dances:

Visitation - Ludwig van Beethoven, Cello Sonata No. 4 in C major, Op. 102, No. 1
Empire Garden - Charles Ives, Trio for Violin, Violoncello, and Piano, S. 86
V - Robert Schumann, Quintet in E-flat for Piano and Strings, Op. 44

The musicianship was top class. I had only listened to the Schumann prior to the performance, and having the opportunity to listen to two new pieces performed by some excellent musicians was thrilling. Other than one extremely sharp note by the cellist in the Beethoven and one wrong chord by the pianist in the Schumann, the music was excellently performed. The violinist specifically caught my ear. His name is Georgy Valtchev and hails from Bulgaria. He actually came to the States as a scholarship student of the legendary Dorothy DeLay who taught the likes of Itzhak Perlman, Gil Shaham, and Cho Liang-Lin.

Apart from his great playing, his violin caught my ear. It wasn't because it sounded great or anything (actually, I could dare say that my violin sounds better) but specifically because of his E-string. His E-string was the warmest E-string I had ever listened to live, and needless to say I needed to know who the luthier was. Turns out the luthier was Belgian as well, and went by the name of Naidenoff. Having returned home, I immediately tried to dig up information on this luthier, but even the almighty Google came up with nothing.

The dancing was intriguing. The whole time I was trying to determine whether there was a story or narrative to Morris' choreography or whether it was simply a translation of music into dance. At first, I kept trying to piece together some kind of story that would fit with the choreography but came up with nothing. Only after changing my approach to understanding the choreography, in that it was a translation of music into dance, did the movements start to make sense. In essence, is it much different from the way a conductor sways and moves as he conducts an orchestra?

Visitation was definitely the most friendly of the three dances, and by far the Beethoven was the most beautiful of the pieces. Immediately I was pondering whether to be looking for a story or to view the dance as a reaction to the music. There was one lone dancer that had on a different costume than the rest of the others, and the colors were very earthy. She seemed to be beckoning the other dances to follow her, as they stood in an arc, and each dancer would go to meet her, lock hands, but then seem to hesitate and then walk back to their original spot. The lone dancer would do this to each and every other dancer until one finally accepted the invitation and began dancing.

Later when Mark Morris the choreographer was explaining how he choreographs the dances, he explained that most of the time, it is nothing more than a reaction to the music, and that if he wanted a narrative, that it would be more obvious. The music was so intimate with solely a cello accompanied by a piano, and it seemed as if the lone dancer represented the cellist while the rest of the dancers danced to the piano accompaniment. I knew from this dance alone that this was nothing like the awkward Carmen performance I had seen before, and really the choreography added to the enjoyment of the music. At the simplest level, it's just adding another sense to perceive, but that added with the breathing of the dancers and the sounds made with the shuffling of their feet or landing from a jump, the performance felt very personal and intimate.

Empire Garden was probably the most visually stunning and musically interesting. Charles Ives was a 20th century American composer, and you could say that he was one of the early innovators during the post-romantic era, alongside others such as Stravinsky. The only difference is that he was not well known. His trio was violent, spontaneous, while very mellow and melodic at times. The most interesting of movements was the second, marked TSIAJ - Presto. The acronym stands for "This scherzo is a joke," and while scherzo literally does translate into "joke" from Italian, there is added humor in that the second movement really is a jumble of many different melodies ranging from a fraternity song from the fraternity house that Ives was a part of, to a Christian hymn titled There is a Fountain Filled with Blood.

I suppose the joke comes from the fact that these melodies are horribly transfigured into something much more morbid or sarcastic, which translated into the dance which was much sharper and at times, very grotesque. I reacted very negatively to what seemed like the death of a dancer, when he collapsed to the ground, his facial expression as one of utter shock, and slowly rolled off stage. The music was in shrill lament at that point, and I remember feeling extremely uncomfortable and disturbed. I can't explain properly as to why I reacted in such a negative manner, but I suppose that's a testament to Morris' talent.

The costumes were bright and high in contrast, and definitely added to the eccentricity of the music. I felt that Morris was trying to allude to Communism in a way by having the dancers dressed in red the dominant ones and having distinct militaristic motifs within the dance. As a funny note, when someone asked Morris where he got the inspiration for the title of the work, he explained that he felt that Empire Garden was a very common name for Szechuan restaurants. He had finished eating at a restaurant with that name and thought it would be an appropriate title for his work. Whether he was being sarcastic or not, apart from any other influences, the trio definitely had pentatonic motifs.

The last dance was titled V, which according to Morris, alluded to the instrumentation of the Schumann piece, which was a quintet. Throughout the entire dance were vs, whether in the arrangement of the dancers, or through the various shapes the dancers made with their bodies. The dance accompanying the first, third, and fourth movements seemed to embody a celebration, and the dancers were adorned with costumes with fresh and vibrant colors. The second movement was in stark contrast, as it seemed melancholic and broody.

Choreography wise, I think it was the most pleasant to watch. The fast movements were very fluid and perpetual and definitely gave off a sense of communal celebration. The colors of the costumes and lighting definitely matched the mood of the music and the joy expressed through the dancers. The slow movement was very intriguing in that the dancers were mostly crawling on all fours, with dancers of one color on one side of the stage, and dancers of the other color on the opposite end. They would crawl towards each other in pace with the music, and when a dancer of one color would pass the other colored dancers, the dancer would stand up and walk away. One member of the audience commented that it reminded him of the evolution of man, to which Morris replied, "That could work, but the possible interpretations are limitless."

I had to hand it to him. Mark Morris is a man that knows that he's one of the best in his field, and he certainly presented himself in such a manner. Walking onto stage with a glass of wine in hand, he promptly sat down in his chair with one of the smuggest grins known to man. He opened up with the talk back session with, "This is how it's going to work. I answer questions. You ask questions. You raise your hand. The order of events is in reverse. You first raise your hand, then ask your question, and then I'll answer it."

He was very laid back and humorous, as most of his initial responses to questions were sarcastic or biting jokes, before getting to the actual answer. The talk back session was very informative, allowing me a small glimpse of what goes on in Morris' head when he tries to interpret a piece for choreography. In general, this experience was very pleasant, and I really am thankful for the fact that Stephanie bought me to this performance. It definitely added some positive light to my perception of what modern dance is, and I would definitely be open to watching more performances in the future. The violinist actually did mention that in their next performance, they were going to perform Bela Bartok's fourth string quartet. I couldn't possibly imagine what kind of choreography Morris devised for that piece. Regardless, in the end, it was a great experience. Culture really is never a bad thing.