Not many people choose to do a solo show and there’s a reason for it.  It’s a masochistic endeavor, physically and emotionally exhausting, and if the show fails, there’s no one to blame but yourself.  Perhaps it’s French performer Pierre Rigal’s past as a competitive athlete that has instilled in him the necessary discipline, physical endurance, and appetite for self-punishment to do a solo show.  Factor in his studies in mathematics and cinema, and the result is a virtuosic hour-long performance of meticulously calculated movement displayed in a mesmerizing visual environment.

The entirety of Press takes place within the confines of a box, a small room, a cubicle. Although obvious associations arise, the box serves more as a visual element and facilitator of movement than as a metaphor.  It’s brilliantly designed to clarify focus.  It’s the only space that’s lit.  Nothing exists outside the box, amplifying what goes on inside the box, and drawing us into his performance.

Rigal stands in a black suit, a model of perfection, like a Hugo Boss ad.  The ceiling is just above his head so that he can reach up and touch it to facilitate his spiraling turns.  His movements are controlled, precise, perfect.  Then for a moment he starts to go haywire like a robot malfunctioning.  It’s the first hint of distress.

Nihil Bordures’ electronic sound score creates an eerie mechanical atmosphere, like that of a boiler room.  There’s a feeling of uneasiness and impending danger.  With a thunderous sound, the ceiling presses downwards and stops right at the top of Rigal’s head.  At this point it is apparent that the ceiling will continue to "press" down in intervals until the inevitable crushing end.

Each time the ceiling stops, it’s at a height precisely planned to correspond to the dimensions of Rigal’s body and offer acrobatic opportunities.  With it at head height, he stands on his head, feet on the ceiling, and hands in his pockets.  It’s a surreal image of a world turned up-side-down. Reoccurring clever moments like this infuse the hopeless situation with humor.

The second press stops at shoulder level and with his head bent forward, Rigal creates a convincing silhouette of a headless man.  He’s a magician with movement.  Later he runs frantically in one spot, slipping and getting nowhere, Fuerza Bruta style only without a treadmill, just a slippery floor and a mastery of movement.

The space is compressed further, leaving a horizontal gap, a claustrophobic sideways world. Then the ceiling retreats, suggesting that perhaps he’s not doomed to being crushed.  But how else could it end?  It finally descends completely, and like the lowering of the curtain, the show is over.

Pierre Rigal’s performance is riveting from start to finish.  His movement quality, and maintained intensity is awe inspiring.  It’s not until he comes forward for the bow that he relaxes and shows any sign of being human.  With heavy breath and dripping sweat, it’s like he just came through hell, and in a way, he did.

Pierre Rigal in "Press," Photography by Frédéric Stoll

iDANZ Critix Corner Official Dance Review by Julie Fotheringham Performance: Pierre Rigal, Press Venue: Baryshnikov Arts Center, New York City Date: September 10, 2009 www.iDANZ.com

Click Here To Become a Member of iDANZ.com Today! 
The More Members We Have, The More We Can Make a Difference.  It’s Free!

iDANZ – The Social Network Where Dancers Live!

Want to stay connected to iDANZ? Join our network using the following services:

Share on Facebook

The program is split into two halves, the first of which consists of two works by Chamberlin.  The first piece is a virtuosic study in speed, balance, and precision; performed by Chamberlin, himself.  Backed by a haunting score, providing more mood than melody, he executes a repeating series of poses; each flowing into the next, often on one leg, always perfectly placed.  As the dance progresses, the tempo gradually increases until, at the end, Chamberlin is a blur of speed moving continuously through each pose; never faltering, always calmly and coolly in control.

Rounding out the first half of the program is a duet for two jaw-droppingly gorgeous dancers, Hsiao-Jou Tang and Shayla-Vie Jenkins.  Full of swift, fluid movement, the piece is flawlessly performed by the two long-legged beauties. Chamberlin shows an incredible awareness of space; using movement to highlight the stage and the distance between the dancers, he allows the space to become almost a third performer.  Amongst this, the dancers seamlessly slip in and out of a series of counter-balances, somehow always finding their way back to their own power.

The second half of the program is a single piece by Petroliunas in which she invites the audience into a special world full of origami frogs, Christmas trees, secret notes, and luscious movement.  For me, though, the magic actually starts with intermission where the dancers, who are about to perform, come out to help direct the audience in shifting our seats about the space to form three sides of a square.   As people carry their chairs, they have to move through the performance space and, as they do so, dancers greet friends in the audience with hugs and chat just as easily with strangers.   In that moment, everything is easy and accessible; a feeling Petroliunas then carries forward through her whole piece.

The piece starts in truth with Lesley Garrison walking around and turning on house lamps which warmly light the space.  She then joins the other five white-clad dancers, at which point they all burst into full-bodied, individual movement.

A favorite moment comes when Tang instructs the audience in folding a white square of paper which each person is given during intermission.  After many steps she chimes, “if you did it right, it’s a frog.”  Mine doesn’t quite look like a frog, but as Julia Burrer comes around to collect the frogs into a cereal box she reassures each person, “don’t worry, they are all beautiful.”  Later, our slightly misshapen, but "beautiful" frogs are strewn on the floor in a long path only to be picked up again and then scattered on another part of the floor.

Later, members of one half of the audience are handed school milk cartons and told to read the message inside.  Following the message, which instructs us to go to the window and look outside, we see Burrer and Tang standing on the sidewalk, two floors down.  They perform a beautiful duet which is also performed inside the space by another couple.  For a moment, I feel sorry for the rest of the audience, which doesn’t get to share the magic of viewing the duet through the window, with all of the absurd, juxtaposed beauty of cars, bikes, and other passers-by; but then I realize that they are all sharing in an equally odd experience that I am missing: watching the same duet while half the audience turns their backs and looks out the window!

In another moment, audience members are brought into the space, seemingly invited to shift their perspective.  The dance continues around these new, living set pieces until the dancers climb out a window and origami birds are set free, ending the piece.

Each part of the evening is an amazing display of dance, an yet the show as a whole is still greater than the sum of its incredible parts.  My advice is that the next time you have a chance to see choreography by Peter Chamberlin and Nora Petroliunas just put down the bag of Doritos, get off the couch, and go see the show!

iDANZ Critix Corner
Official Dance Review by Hope Davis 
Performance: Dear Peter, Love, Nora
Choreography:  Peter Chamberlin and Nora Petroliunas
Venue: 100 Grand Street, New York City Performance
Date:  Saturday, August 29th, 2009
www.iDANZ.com

Click Here To Become a Member of iDANZ.com Today! 
The More Members We Have, The More We Can Make a Difference.  It’s Free!

iDANZ – The Social Network Where Dancers Live!

Want to stay connected to iDANZ? Join our network using the following services: 

Share on Facebook