thINKingDANCE

Donate
Photo: Rachel Neville
Photo: Rachel Neville

I don’t need to see Jessica Lang Dance

Kat J. Sullivan

I don’t need traditional gender roles. I don’t need male dancers, by and large, partnering female dancers.* I don’t need voiceovers of Tony Bennett, segmenting the finale of the evening This Thing Called Love, visualized by the male dancers alone. I don’t need dancers slow dancing in male/female pairs, except when a male dancer is otherwise occupied by a solo. I don’t need male and female dancers miming infatuation with each other with weighted glances and sultry winks amidst long penché arabesques and turns in attitude derrière. I don’t need the infatuation at all.

I don’t need Kana Kimura to exit the stage during us/we, a world premiere, and reappear with a huge black tulle skirt pulled over her costume of amalgamated t-shirt pieces (worn by the rest of the cast as well). Members of the ensemble wear scraps of bafflingly political shifts: I see shirts about “the rebellion” and the CNN logo alongside a company shirt for a small dance studio. The dancers intersperse athletic lifts, legs split in grand jetés, with whispers on the potential of humankind when united. In between such sections, Kimura struts around the stage making eyes at the audience. I don’t see what this has to do with anything else. I especially don’t need this in the middle of a piece in which the apparent thematic material is the division of humanity, the sociopolitical atmosphere, and urban environments. Particularly when the majority of the company and the choreographer appear to be white, this is simply tone deaf.

I don’t need to see Jessica Lang Dance because I’ve seen the glossing over of complexity and the harshness of reality in contemporary dance all too often. Despite numerous awards and accolades, including a Bessie Award and commissions from Jacob’s Pillow and The Joyce Theater, I found the work to be pre-digested to the point of blandness and baldly obvious. Nothing I saw was innovative, or fresh, or added any nuance to the human experience beyond “love is when you flirt with the opposite sex and pain is when you writhe on the floor.” I don’t need emotion for the sake of glamour, forsaking any authentic emotional experience.

If you, on the other hand, do need to see Jessica Lang Dance, you had better do it soon. The company announced that it will be folding in April in a press release, noting that, “Ms. Lang will continue her creative work as a choreographer, working with companies around the world.” A New York Times article cited the financial difficulties of managing a small company as a contributing factor, in addition to Lang’s desire to return to creating dance full time, uninhibited by administrative responsibilities. According to a WHYY article, she already has a few choreography gigs lined up.

*Based on the pronouns used in the bios of each artist, it appears that all dancers in the company are either male or female.

Jessica Lang Dance, Zellerbach Theatre at the Annenberg Center, Nov. 30-Dec. 1.

Share this article

Kat J. Sullivan

Kat J. Sullivan is a Philly-based dancer, choreographer, writer, and photographer. She performs with local artists in her own and others’ choreographies, and improvises as a way of research and knowing. She is a former editorial board member, editor, and staff writer with thINKingDANCE. Learn more.

PARTNER CONTENT

Keep Reading

  • Reviews

Shadow Cities: Weaving Histories Through Motion, Music, and Light

Emily “Lady Em” Culbreath

Ephrat Asherie Dance, Arturo O’Farrill, and Kathy Kaufmann take audiences on an exhilarating journey of blurring artistic boundaries.

Four performers share a stage lit in deep blue and purple tones. On the left, a musician sits at a drum kit, focused on his instrument, microphones hanging overhead. At center, another performer is captured mid-jump, arms extended overhead and feet dangle above the floor, as if suspended in motion. Beside him, a musician stands playing an upright bass, leaning slightly into the instrument. A small, moveable stage light sits on the floor in front of him. On the far right, a dancer bends forward in a dynamic pose, one arm reaching back and the other curved in front of her, suggesting swift, expressive movement.
  • Interviews, thINKpieces

The Leaders Behind the Headlines: Conversations with the Kennedy Center’s [Terminated] Dance Programming Team

Ashayla Byrd

What happens when political agendas take precedence over a nation’s desire to feel seen and supported in artistic spaces?

A group of five individuals, dressed in business attire, all gather together for a selfie in the velvet-carpeted lobby of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. Jane, at the front left, is a white, brunette woman with a medium pixie cut. Clad in a magenta blazer and black turtleneck, Jane dons a bright, bespectacled smile. Grinning behind Jane, Mallory, a white woman with dirty blonde hair, wears a black and white gingham dress and holds a silver clasp. Malik, a tawny-skinned Black man in a black button-down and trousers, stands beaming at Mallory’s left. Allison and Chloe, dressed in a white button-down and a floral dress respectively, lean into the photo, offering their smiles as well.
Photo courtesy of Ashayla Byrd