GAY CITY NEWS
DANCE-O-MATIC
November 2002

PRETTY IN PINK
Physical, techno-tronic sculpture moving in space
By Brian McCormick

Imagine the theoretical child of Merce Cunningham and Elizabeth Streb, a second-generation post-human, half mathematical-machine, half Ghost in the Shell cyborg. A humanoid capable of any movement, motivated by a technologically-enhanced aesthetic—Aeon Flux as a modern dancer. Now imagine the choreography of this “being,” modified slightly for DNA-only dancers. Imagine it young, loud, bright, and fun. This is the choreography of Brian Brooks.

“My interest is simple,” says Mr. Brooks, who uses his cell phone to time the sections so he can tell composer John Stone how much music he needs. “Space and time. Line, shape, and images. I think of dance as a visual art form. Sculpture with the added elements of time and motion.”
His new work, Dance-o-Matic, which premieres November 14 at WAX in Williamsburg, is a pink-saturated, four-part, 75 minute dance that brings to mind video games like Pong and Tetris. Instead of falling geometrical shapes and bouncing blocks, though, it’s people. Watching the dancers rehearse, it’s hard to believe that they are simply human. Brooks has assembled a daredevil team—Alexander Gish, Jo-Anne Lee, and Weena Pauly—who are unafraid to get bumped and bruised a bit, while pushing their bodies to the limits.

There are less physical parts where the dancer bodies line up and move in (and rhythmically out of) unison with each other in angular lines and slides, dropping into plié, rolling the torso. In a segment they call “the wheel,” the dancers spin their arms repeatedly in unison, first in one direction, then reverse. They add half-turns, repeat several times, stop their arms at 180 degrees, slow one arm’s rotation to half the speed of the other, aping the minute and hour hands of a clock moving in fast motion. From unison they switch to canon, and travel across stage and start over again. It is a fascinating spectacle resonant with vivid afterimages, and reminiscent of Laura Dean’s mesmeric spinning. It is also no doubt brutal on the rotator cuffs.

The dancers’ precision and endurance are awesome. In “the jumping section,” one dancer is shoved in mid air at the high point of a jump, or they jump as they are pushed, sending their energy abruptly in detoured directions. Pauly moves literally like a tennis ball or pendulum, as she jumps up and is bounced back and forth between Ms. Lee and Mr. Gish. It is an incredible effect. They also jump and catch each other, or they jump and are lifted and moved across the stage, punctuating and slowing down the movement.

There are no body gloves to cushion the blows, no mats to soften hard landings. What there will be is a pink vinyl floor, pink backdrop, and 50 pink satin ribbons, Willy Wonka bubble gum heaven. In addition, Sarah Browder’s video graphics—pink hued shapes and expanding and condensing lines, including some motion-capture animation—will serve as transitions between the sections. “They’ll reiterate the physical relations in the dance,” says Brooks, “the lines, shapes, movement, and spatial relations.”

At the dancenow/NYC benefit for groundherokids in September, Brooks showed a couple of sections of the new work in-progress, including a sort of prologue, a two-tiered duet for himself and Ms. Pauly. One standing on the shoulders of the other, dressed in sparkling pink bathing suits and feathery pink boas, they did a sublime side-stepping, knee-dipping routine to the techno-punk music of Peaches.

“The opening is about admitting the pink,” says Mr. Brooks. “It’s kind of loud, with the feather boas, and lots of skin showing. It’s got a sarcastic twist—the movement interpretation of the music—and it’s silly because it’s Peaches.”