Photo: Stephanie Berger
Photo: Stephanie Berger

Gallim’s Feet Skipping Around Solid Stone

Eleanor Goudie-Averill

Andrea Miller, artistic director of Gallim Dance, is the first ever Artist-in-Residence in dance at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Upon learning this, I was intrigued both to see what this already well-known choreographer would create during her time in residence, and also to see how this residency program would continue to integrate new dance into the Met’s variety of vast spaces.*

Stone Skipping, a site-specific work for the Temple of Dendur in The Sackler Wing, is the first performance presented in conjunction with the residency. The crowd seemed more museum-goers and old-school patrons of the arts than members of the dance community. The attending patrons were formal, seated as I arrived, and ready to take in the dance. The Temple of Dendur itself comprises a huge rectangular arch and a partial enclosure with a column, both of heavy sandstone, atop an enormous platform with a small pool of water extending across the front edge. At times, the dancers were reflected by the pool, but otherwise the water was left un-rippled, no literal stones skipping across. A live band, Firewood, was set up behind the arch, all four playing violas, which they looped electronically. From my seat, I could barely see just one musician, her viola poised, keeping her eyes on the dancers throughout the piece’s unfolding, unfurling, flailing, pushing, and pulling.

The piece began with a soloist rising slowly up from under the arch. Low musical drones began as the dancer balanced, her initially shaky standing leg strengthening    as she gained confidence throughout her tensely wringing solo, gradually gaining the surety to  carry these moments alone. By the time other dancers came into view from well behind the temple, slowly moving in a procession one by one, then in twos and threes,    she displayed with strength what have become some of Miller’s signature movements: an enormous fourth position melting into the floor, a low backbend with the head reaching far behind the body, and a wide open focus that suggests that the body is somehow being danced. This initial procession of dancers during the opening solo was one of the strongest sections of the piece, giving a sense of the grandeur of the space—dancers taking one slow step, then a few quick steps with hands lifted in slowly-changing gestures. But as the dancers entered, I questioned the costumes—leotards with  draping    shiny shorts    and sequins. Why dress this way in a temple?

Though it was billed as site-specific, much of the rest of the piece could have taken place on any proscenium stage. Perhaps Miller intends to tour the piece to other spaces, which would make sense, given her business savvy. Because of the proscenium feel, I wished for stage-lighting at times, so that the large space and multiple groupings of dancers could become more focused for my viewing. Or, alternately, I would have liked to move more freely, as audiences often do during museum or gallery shows, to see the groupings from different angles.

Moments stood out, for different reasons, from the sometimes chaotic forming and unforming: one soloist, a young man who moved  in clear lines, throwing his limbs as he leapt with extreme grace; a duet in which a nimble female dancer scaled her partner’s body again and again to perch on shoulders and neck. Two large pieces of plastic came out about halfway through and felt distracting and overused, an unnecessary addition while much of the actual space was left unexplored. Though not always connected to the site, the tactile, contortive, and effortful movement was enough—was a struggle, was plenty to take in—and though there were a couple of false endings, the actual ending of heavy skipping through the space (a motif that had appeared  at another point in the piece) was strong. The dancers skipped in an enormous circle in front of the Temple, until they formed a standing line across the space, buzzing from their efforts, as lithe young soloist skipped on and on around them. 

*The Met also presented  Eiko’s    A Body in Places   this past November   at three of   its locations—The Met Cloisters,   The Met Breuer, and The Met Fifth Avenue.   

Stone Skipping, Gallim Dance, Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Temple of Dendur in The Sackler Wing, October 28-29

Share this article

Eleanor Goudie-Averill

Eleanor Goudie-Averill is a 2007 MFA Dance Performance graduate of the University of Iowa and currently dances for Group Motion and Tori Lawrence + Co in Philadelphia. Since 2007, she has co-directed the Stone Depot Dance Lab, a collaborative team of performing, visual, and sound artists whose mission is to create honest and experiential dances. She is a former staff writer with thINKingDANCE.

PARTNER CONTENT

Keep Reading

On Language Learning

Emilee Lord

A reading of Ways to Move: Black Insurgent Grammars by Jonathan González

Green-toned book cover featuring the silhouette of a forest and leaping figure with the title “Ways to Move: Black Insurgent Grammars by Jonathan González” on the right, and poetic text on the left reading: “i want to be with you in the ways with you of vertigo seas,” “i want to be with you in the ways with you of smashing monuments,” and “i want to be with you in the ways with you of these lonely trees.”
Photo: Courtesy of Jonathan González and Ugly Duckling Presse

Zooming Out and Weighing In

Jennifer Passios

Thirty-three writers shape Contact Improvisation’s next chapter.

A flat image of the front cover of "Resistance and Support: CI @ 50" appears centered on a dark maroon background. From top to bottom, the cover descends through sunset – muted burnt orange, carrot, creamsicle, golden rod, pale yellow, into a black and white photo of two dancers partnering in the ocean. One dancer is on his ass in the water. The other stands, both knees bent, reaching out for her comrade in the waves. They hold hands at the wrists, arms fully extended. The title “Resistance and Support,” each word on its own line, spans the top third of the cover page in a burgundy, serif font. Below, the subtitle “CI @ 50” slants in smaller white italics. The text “EDITED BY: Ann Cooper Albright,” back to the burgundy with no italics, sits about one thumbs width above the dancers in the ocean.
Photo: Courtesy of Ann Cooper Albright, includes photo by Lasse Lychnell