Performance: Twilight Fringe
Organization: Third Space Dance Project
Director: Angelica DeLashmette Hurst
Venue: The Brown Sculpture Courtyard, Mesa Arts Center
Date: March 25, 2023
The Organization
Third Space Dance Project was founded by Angelica DeLashmette Hurst who is the head of the organization and probably a little bit of everything else. This is a scrappy, grass-roots effort to create more performance (and related) opportunities for local dance artists – said artists being collaborators in the enterprise. To date, they have created a variety of classes and workshops and have engaged in some serious fund-raising and marketing, but Twilight Fringe is their first public performance event. This has been months in the making for the organizer and the participants and should prove a watershed moment for the organization. Hopefully, it will help secure the viability of Third Space going forward. Dance performance, and the non-profits that are entrusted with its preservation, requires constant reinvention to survive. While Third Space is openly inviting new artists, it boasts some serious professionals in the mix and is the latest example of the eternal optimism that continues to drive this most ephemeral art form into the future.
The Venue
The venue at the Brown Sculpture Courtyard provided a rich assortment of backdrops and performance environments which presenters used generically or creatively as suited their needs and vision. It was billed as an immersive environment and the audience frequently had to move to accommodate a particular performance or achieve a better sightline. While people cooperated willingly, it was clear to see that a larger audience would make these fluid arrangements awkward or problematic. Even though all of the performers were given all of these options, it was of particular note that only two of the companies, Nicole Olson and Desert Dance Theater/Step’s Junk Funk, produced what I would call site-specific programs. Both demonstrated an exceptional ability to create truly site-specific work – performances that can only exist in a particular location, fully utilizing the often-improbable resources at hand.
The Opening Act
Marilyn Castenada’s performance of Letting It Out to Sunbathe was billed as the “Pre-Show”. I simply could not dismiss this as an incidental warm-up act. Castenada was dancing her heart out – an extemporaneous improvisation committed to continuous motion that had no beginning, no middle and apparently, no anticipation of an end. The quality of her improvised movement in various sections rivaled or exceeded that of many of the carefully choreographed performances that followed. Sustaining a solo over that length of time was a physical and creative challenge that she engaged without ever making the audience aware of the strain. I made an attempt to see when she would run out of ideas and repeat herself and eventually gave up, lost in her endless, trancelike flow.
The ace bandage facial wrap that she employed in the first section of her performance was quizzical and a bit off-putting. It was only afterwards, reading the bio that I discovered that she was using the technique of dancing blind to help shut off her conscious mind and get back in touch with her body. That made perfect sense, but the choice of the bandage to represent blindness seemed rather ad hoc and potentially misleading as it would more properly represent injury or damage or hiding some disfigurement (at least that’s where I went with it) where a mask or blindfold or something similar would be easier for us in the audience to interpret. In any case, that costuming choice did not rise to the level of her exceptional performance. She showed no fear of the concrete surface as she attacked her floor work, gave us brief displays of exquisite balance and jerky/fragmented geometries that resolved into endlessly evolving sweeps and undulations. This was instinct on fire.
The Final Performance
To conclude the evening, Nicole Olson gave a master class in dramatic presentation, commitment to character and the power of minimalism with her presentation of Adieus. Minimalist artists run the risk of seeming excessively simplistic, but this form requires a massive amount of concentration and confidence – and not a little courage. Olson kept the audience hushed and spell-bound as she slowly and deliberately mounted a very long stairway in complete silence – twice – a credit to her personal presentation, stately bearing and her commitment to the character.
The lament of French chanteuse Edith Piaf reverberated through Olson who, while descending the stairs, repeatedly doubled over the railing in an anguished response to an uncontrollable devastation caused by… what? Adieu – goodbye – seems insufficient. Without understanding Piaf’s lyric, but feeling it’s compelling sentiment, this was more a tearing at the fabric of something, overwhelming, like an incapacitating loss.
Olson’s recovery at the base of the stairs and slow, final ascent was the polar opposite of the frenetic activity demonstrated by Castenada that opened the show. Together, these solos provided perfect bookends for the evening’s program.
The Magically Muddled Middle
In between these two performances, stuff happened. Lots of it. In all, a dozen presenters – consisting of companies, collaborations and solo artists – all simply looking for the opportunity to perform, delivered a flurry of pent-up creativity. It was a something-for-everyone collection of ideas and expressions with wildly varied aesthetics and styles. If you didn’t find something personally engaging – just wait ten minutes. The almost-embarrassing excess of offerings meant you were sure to find performances that were not just entertaining, but memorable.
Promises Made – Promises Kept
Twilight Fringe and Third Space Dance Project delivered on the promise of providing, not just new opportunities for the dancers and choreographers, but the sort of entertainment variety that, speaking for the audience, we have eagerly awaited.
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