Nov. 25, 2009 - Issue #736: Poster Boys

Dance Review: The Effects of Sunlight Falling on Raw Concrete

There is a great deal of contemporary choreography that goes by the name “improvisation-based.” This can mean a lot of things to different people, but, as with comedy and jazz music and other improvised art forms, unscripted jokes or riffs run the risk of falling flat. Granted, not everyone “gets” abstract movement improv or jazz either.

Brian Webb's latest piece, The Effects of Sunlight Falling on Raw Concrete, is a collaborative, improvisation-based effort with Nancy Sandercock. The work begins with an unobstructed view of a silent, all-white room designed by David Fraser—an unassuming tabula rasa. You can't miss the role of the musicians here, as the platform of the pit is slowly lowered only after the eight of them have taken their places behind an electric rigwork, complete with four electric guitars, two bass guitars and a drumkit.

The blank room is blasted with fresh, bright lights a few moments before Webb steps into the corner. He neutrally begins, walking in a circle over here, then over there, then he connects the circles, all in short, brisk steps. He starts to crane his neck, dipping his head over and around his shoulders, his eyes and face avoiding the direction of the audience.

As he peers upward, the sound of crisp, electric rain starts in. His stiffer movements begin to flow into each other and soon Sandercock enters and begins to jam alongside him—and when I say “jam” I do mean that. Throughout their 60-minute tango there's nary a moment that seems concrete, odd as that may seem considering the title.

In turns overtly intimate and subsequently disconnected, the two dancers establish a relationship that by the end of the piece mirrors their real-life connection, that of teacher and student (Sandercock was a student of Webb's back in the days of the Grant MacEwan dance program, and later on followed his path to Los Angeles to attend the CalArts Institute), though the spunk and jitter that the piece closes on shows Sandercock's ebullient head-banging having influence over Webb's earthier, more grounded style.

The cast of musicians did kick psychedelic-rock ass. There were times when it sounded like Webb and Sandercock were dancing to Dave Wall's version of a Pink Floyd tribute band, and other times when the screech of guitars teetered on the high-pitched cusp of a dog whistle.

At one point, Webb and Sandercock stripped down to their skivvies and feigned a make-out scene for a good three or four minutes. Now, in Edmonton we're no strangers to seeing a near-naked Brian Webb, so saying this was “shocking” or “provoking” wouldn't feel quite right.

Conscientious improvisers of any medium can hammer out excruciatingly funny or touching or surprising moments better than any script or score would allow, and this is the potential magic of improvisation: in itself, it proves that the fleeting moments of a live performance really are just that, moments that can never be replicated, predicted, or even remembered. While the movements in The Effects of Sunlight ... had a structure behind them, there weren't many stronghold themes or vocabulary for an audience to access, save for the memorable image of a pale mannequin's leg dangling above the stage. While dancing, surely it feels different. Being a bum in a seat, it was a tough piece to digest—and in that, Webb's mandate of unflinchingly challenging his audience was met with clout.

The Effects of Sunlight Falling on Raw Concrete
Nov 20 & 21 @ John L. Haar Theatre

 

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