Two complex and contrasting pieces bookend the showcase of new work presented by the University of Alaska Anchorage Dance Ensemble this month.
Leslie Kimiko Ward's "iTouch, 5 meditations on interdependence" comments on how contemporary America keeps up a guard regarding physical contact. It opens with the company walking and talking on beeping cell phones then cuts to a scene where a man and two women flirt, cling or dismiss one another as a fourth dancer flits behind them delivering distracting taps on the back -- I thought of Cupid -- while others sit in the shadows with laptop computers.
The third scene follows a crowd in an elevator. The fourth is a non- narrative round dance that was rather lovely; and maybe the meditations should have stopped there. The short conclusion depicts in mime an elderly woman escorted to a seat and having her hair adjusted. It didn't seem to fit either the flow or proportions of what preceded it.
"Tracing Graphite Boundaries," by Brian Jeffery baffled some in the opening night house -- about 40 people in the 60 seats of the Harper Studio Theatre, arranged facing each other like the bleachers at a tennis court. But I admire his attempt to balance formal structure with exuberant expression. The opening action, with a line of dancers racing to mid-space and back as if playing some kind of relay game, is one of many elements recapitulated later on. Others found it merely redundant.
Some of Jeffery's stock moves -- dancers pacing or running without doing much more than filling time, or a series of "touch myself" gestures -- felt superfluous.
But "Graphite" has a greater sense of tension and release than anything else on the program. For example, at the end of a pas de deux with the rest of the group watching from the sidelines, a second man steps into the center light. A rival? Not quite. The two men stand shoulder to shoulder and catch the woman together; as she hits their arms, the rest of the dancers suddenly explode into the scene.
While the eight student dancers are athletic and talented, individual action often appeared to trump ensemble precision, which might have given more snap to the points where they stretched into taut lines and shapes. The lighting by Adam Klein, mainly a space-outlining rectangle with a circle of brightness in the center, emphasizes the geometric symmetry of many of the deployments.
Three solo works, performed by their choreographers, occupy the middle of the hour-long show. Stephanie Wonchala's "Sum of Choices" addresses decisions and consequences, mostly bad or at least impassioned, judging from the long red dress she wore. Her moves -- choking or yanking -- suggest physical abuse.
"Aqua" by Heather Richardson features more fluid moves, including some very nice evocations, especially toward the end, which unfolds after the music and water sound effects fade to silence.
Ward's "On the rocks" seemed to be the biggest crowd pleaser. She drew laughter as she imitated a jolly and lascivious drunk, hands wagging in the air, hips lurching in comic exaggeration. I felt a bit uncomfortable, however, seeing a serious and sometimes fatal problem treated frivolously. Maybe Ward concurs; she ends with the grin falling from her face, crumpled in a corner as the character comes down from her boozy euphoria.
Find Mike Dunham online at adn.com/contact/mdunham or call 257-4332.
By MIKE DUNHAM
mdunham@adn.com