Finland’s Tero Saarinen Dance Company
“Westward Ho!”, “Wavelengths”, “Hunt”
Eisenhower Theater
The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts
Washington, DC
March 12, 2013
by George Jackson
copyright 2013 by George Jackson
Tero Saarinen - unlike some of his contemporary dance colleagues - still believes that a program should consist of separate and contrasting works that give customers a balanced menu. Served first as Finland’s contribution to Kennedy Center’s Nordic Cool Festival - was an appetizer. Sweet and sharp, sugar and spice, it was about three ornery sailors. The next course, meaty and doughy like heartwarming kidney pie, was a duo for a woman and a man. Capping the experience came something as flamboyant as baked Alaska (known in Europe as as Norwegian omelet flambé) – Saarinen’s solo version for himself of “The Rite of Spring”.
“Westward Ho!”, “Wavelengths”, “Hunt”
Eisenhower Theater
The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts
Washington, DC
March 12, 2013
by George Jackson
copyright 2013 by George Jackson
Three figures emerge into the dawning light of Saarinen’s 1996 “Westward Ho!”. Each of these persons is white clad and has a modest black rectangle just below waist level. The trio moves back and forth across the stage, rather in unison. All are men, it turns out, dressed as sailors and equipped with a satchel (the black item). Somewhat akin to Popeye of the cartoons, they sport stereotypic shipboard behavior - such as the walk known as “hoist and drop anchor”. Minimalist variations on it, on other sailor antics and on the notion of their sticking together, of being buddies, become the substance of this dance. When they stumble or stagger, is the deck heaving? Jumping and landing with feet together conjures up their ship’s prow tossing. They dance to the sounds of singing and chanting (by Gavin Bryars and Moondog) and of water lapping. Some of the soundtrack repeats. Nothing is made of the sailors’ satchels. It is easy to think of the action as having started long before dawn and continuing well after sunset. Despite the movement mutations and the sympathy aroused by the good natured fooling around, half an hour’s worth of “Westward Ho!” was excessive. Henrikki Heikkilae, Mikko Lampinen and Pakka Louhio were cast as the sailors. Heikkilae seemed older, shorter, stockier whereas the others were more streamlined dancer types. The choreographer is credited with designing the slightly loose sailor suits. Mikki Kunttu arranged the lights for this and the other two works.
“Wavelengths” seems to be about differences and similarities – those between material bodies and their shadows, being male and female, walking and dancing, professional behavior and personal involvement. There is a homespun appearance to this 2000 Saarinen duo for a woman and a man. Both characters are dressed (by Erika Turunen) in practice clothes plus – apparel of dull coloration yet with a fine sheen, clothing that looks simply cut and sewn but still has a touch of formality. The protagonists appear to be meeting in order to rehearse a pas de deux together and do some individual practicing. The quality of their dance movement is heavy, soft. Torsos are stretched and rotated but not expansively. Arms are used as counterweights to core motion. Legs extend balletically and lifts, too, are Euroclassical. Despite intensity, their activity seems girdled. In the partnering, there isn’t just support but also propulsion. He pushes her forward at the shoulders. She also partners him. Emotional reaching out – he to her – happens during the rehearsal. Her response is rejection. Work ethic comes to the rescue and they continue to practice their pas de deux.
Heikkilae was the man and again looked middle aged, both in performance and during curtain calls. Within the dance Maria Nurmela, as Haikkilae’s partner, also looked mature but for her curtain calls she shed years. Presumably, the choreographer uses age related expression intentionally, to shape his characters. In the Riku Niemi score for “Wavelengths”, the most prominent sound was sharp and hollow, like that of bamboo percussion.
Igor Stravinsky’s “The Rite of Spring” music forced Saarinen to choreograph a discernible beginning, middle and end for “The Hunt”. First one hears the plaintive start of the score, then one sees a solitary light, discerns a body and perceives motion. One's awareness grows gradually as the stage space brightens. The movement is a going back and forth, a penduling initially and next a rotating. The figure on stage becomes recognizable as that of a bare chested male wearing a sarong skirt. He holds himself ever so tautly. More lights turn on and beams of light appear. The dancing mimics the music but for short durations with pauses and changes in direction, level, and active body parts. It is concentrated dancing, powerful ritual practice, but has a sense of symmetry and earthly order. It is still human – for a while, until the demonic – or is it the divine in its multimedia manifestations - commences. Strobe lights seer across the scene into the eyes. There are apparitions, too, ones of awful beauty suspended in the air like intricate northern lights. One of these writhes like a giant octopus. Does it engulf the dancer as if he were prey and transform him? He seems to sprout wings. He runs amok. Impossible to tell the virtual from the actual! To Stravinsky’s last chord, the dancer collapses in a lightning flash.
Performing this dance was an ordeal for Saarinen and the audience gave him a huge ovation. He was sweat soaked, exhausted, and took his curtain calls with difficulty, looking hunted and haunted - touchingly so. Saarinen’s multimedia collaborator, Marita Liulia, shared some of the bows with him. Recovering quickly, Saarinen participated alongside Liulia and moderator Suzanne Carbonneau in a post-performance discussion with the audience. The title he gave this 2002 piece means, I suppose, that humanity is hunted by inhuman forces – we do not seek the gods but they seek us. Of the many versions of “Rite” I’ve seen (and will likely continue to see in this, its centennial year), Saarinen’s is among the few I’d be curious to experience again. Liulia’s multimedia counteracted the limitations (the girdling, the repetitions, the weight and space restrictions) of the movement fusion style Saarinen has devised.
Photo of Tere Saarinen by Laurent Philippe.
“Wavelengths” seems to be about differences and similarities – those between material bodies and their shadows, being male and female, walking and dancing, professional behavior and personal involvement. There is a homespun appearance to this 2000 Saarinen duo for a woman and a man. Both characters are dressed (by Erika Turunen) in practice clothes plus – apparel of dull coloration yet with a fine sheen, clothing that looks simply cut and sewn but still has a touch of formality. The protagonists appear to be meeting in order to rehearse a pas de deux together and do some individual practicing. The quality of their dance movement is heavy, soft. Torsos are stretched and rotated but not expansively. Arms are used as counterweights to core motion. Legs extend balletically and lifts, too, are Euroclassical. Despite intensity, their activity seems girdled. In the partnering, there isn’t just support but also propulsion. He pushes her forward at the shoulders. She also partners him. Emotional reaching out – he to her – happens during the rehearsal. Her response is rejection. Work ethic comes to the rescue and they continue to practice their pas de deux.
Heikkilae was the man and again looked middle aged, both in performance and during curtain calls. Within the dance Maria Nurmela, as Haikkilae’s partner, also looked mature but for her curtain calls she shed years. Presumably, the choreographer uses age related expression intentionally, to shape his characters. In the Riku Niemi score for “Wavelengths”, the most prominent sound was sharp and hollow, like that of bamboo percussion.
Igor Stravinsky’s “The Rite of Spring” music forced Saarinen to choreograph a discernible beginning, middle and end for “The Hunt”. First one hears the plaintive start of the score, then one sees a solitary light, discerns a body and perceives motion. One's awareness grows gradually as the stage space brightens. The movement is a going back and forth, a penduling initially and next a rotating. The figure on stage becomes recognizable as that of a bare chested male wearing a sarong skirt. He holds himself ever so tautly. More lights turn on and beams of light appear. The dancing mimics the music but for short durations with pauses and changes in direction, level, and active body parts. It is concentrated dancing, powerful ritual practice, but has a sense of symmetry and earthly order. It is still human – for a while, until the demonic – or is it the divine in its multimedia manifestations - commences. Strobe lights seer across the scene into the eyes. There are apparitions, too, ones of awful beauty suspended in the air like intricate northern lights. One of these writhes like a giant octopus. Does it engulf the dancer as if he were prey and transform him? He seems to sprout wings. He runs amok. Impossible to tell the virtual from the actual! To Stravinsky’s last chord, the dancer collapses in a lightning flash.
Performing this dance was an ordeal for Saarinen and the audience gave him a huge ovation. He was sweat soaked, exhausted, and took his curtain calls with difficulty, looking hunted and haunted - touchingly so. Saarinen’s multimedia collaborator, Marita Liulia, shared some of the bows with him. Recovering quickly, Saarinen participated alongside Liulia and moderator Suzanne Carbonneau in a post-performance discussion with the audience. The title he gave this 2002 piece means, I suppose, that humanity is hunted by inhuman forces – we do not seek the gods but they seek us. Of the many versions of “Rite” I’ve seen (and will likely continue to see in this, its centennial year), Saarinen’s is among the few I’d be curious to experience again. Liulia’s multimedia counteracted the limitations (the girdling, the repetitions, the weight and space restrictions) of the movement fusion style Saarinen has devised.
Photo of Tere Saarinen by Laurent Philippe.