"ID: Entidades," “Chapa Quente”
Companhia Urbana de Dança
Ted Shawn Theater, Jacob’s Pillow Dance
Becket, MA
July 11, 2013
By Martha Sherman
Copyright © 2013 by Martha Sherman
Given their roots in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro, you might expect conflict in the high-energy dancing forms of Companhia Urbana de Dança. But their mix of athleticism and skill is anything but angry. The slums have borne great power within this crew. With nothing to lose, the dancers take hip hop movement, mix it with the beat of Brazilian salsa and capoiera, and thread it through the discipline imposed by choreographer Sonia Destri Lie, to demonstrate the power they’ve each assumed through dance.
Companhia Urbana de Dança
Ted Shawn Theater, Jacob’s Pillow Dance
Becket, MA
July 11, 2013
By Martha Sherman
Copyright © 2013 by Martha Sherman
The troupe was established by Destri in 2004 with dancer Tiago Sousa , and most of the dancers (seven men and one woman) came from the favelas. The group built their 2008 work, “Entidades” (Identities) using their personal stories. At the dance’s opening, the performers sat cross-legged against the back of the stage wearing simple costumes designed by Paula Stroher. All wore black but each wore it differently – shirts with or without sleeves, pants of various shapes: diverse but a community.
André Virgilio Oliveira Couto was the first to break out of the seated group. Costumed primarily in his own muscles and shoulder length dreadlocks, his bare chest rippled, and the fluidity of his movement to the light beat introduced elements that others would riff on: the slither of his head and neck, the smooth roll onto the floor and levitation up from it, the crispness of each transition from balance to leap, and back.
Couto was joined by two, then three dancers; then the troupe broke into pairs of trios, then trios of pairs – and, throughout, strong solos as each member of the troupe took a turn at the center. In a quiet moment, Felipe Oliveira de Souza rolled his head like a ball bearing around his neck; then his back took over. As he folded toward the floor, he ignored the inconvenience of gravity in a slow, controlled backward arch, and his head finally, gently touched the ground.
Unlike traditional breakdance solo turns, these dancers didn’t compete, but acted more as each other’s witnesses from the seated line at the back. Later, they became a b-boy chorus line: The eight of them downstage, lit by a single beam from the left wing to the right. Some dancers faced forward, others backward, as their shoulders tumbled in smooth waves, and movement was punctuated by still poses.
The lighting, by Renato Machado, used dramatic, bright slashes in the darkness, often lighting only one horizontal segment of the stage, or squeezing a dancer into a tightly bound circle of light. He took risks from the outset; in a long sequence a narrow light blazed through the center of the stage, leaving the dancers’ lower bodies in the dark. The mystery in the shadows forced the audience to makes its own sense out of the barely discernable shapes.
Roderigo Marçal’s Bessie-nominated soundtrack also took risks. The b-boy beat mixed with electronic samba accompanied fast footwork as well as long, smooth body manipulations. The dancers weren’t bound by the music – they were freed, and the mix included long tracks of stone silence, breath-holding frames for the solos that seemed to emerge from the pure will of the dancers.
Jessica Nascimento, the lone woman in the group, might have been interchangeable with any of the men for most of the program. Save for her bright red hair, her body was more muscle than shape. But here, she offered the one entirely female moment. In a sexy short black dress and gold-heeled shoes, she sashayed across the stage in a horizontal band of light, as the men looked on; a reminder of daily life. After her sultry parade, she rejoined the men, just another slick mover in the group.
Things did indeed happen, and this “chapa quente” was a steamy party. Dancers moved horizontally across the stage as if on their own street; sometimes they broke into a quick, fierce backward run – as if trying to escape from something, but never losing sight of what might be in pursuit. Their transitions between frenzy and calm were disquieting -- whipped turns or panther-like arms and thighs stopping to complete stillness. In the smooth flow, joints sometimes seemed entirely loosed from their tendons.
In the poor and violent world that spawned this form and these dancers, their body control offered them power in the face of powerlessness. The ease with which the dancers moved suggested that they almost knew this movement too well; it has freed them from the world of the favela, but they carry it with them, bone deep.
copyright © 2013 by Martha Sherman
Top Photo: Rafael Felipe Russier, Julio Rocha, and Luiz Tiago Sousa Laurindo in “Chapa Quente” by Christopher Duggan
Middle Photo: Julio Rocha, Filipe Oliveira de Souza, and Jessica Nascimento in “Chapa Quente” by Christopher Duggan
Bottom Photo: André Virgilio Oliveira Couto, Rafael Felipe Russier, Jessica Nascimento, Julio Rocha, Filipe Oliveira de Souza, Miguel Fernandes Silva Ribeiro, Johnny Britto Avelino, and Luiz Tiago Sousa Laurindo in “ID: Entidades” by Em Watson