Features
New York vs. Europe
or How To Appreciate Both
or How To Appreciate Both
How New York Lost Its Modern Dance Reign
By GIA KOURLAS / NEW YORK TIMES
Published: September 6, 2005
The Web site of Dance/NYC (www.dancenyc.org), the local branch of Dance/USA, is full of bubbly messages about the glory of dance in New York. "There's a reason why dancers, dance companies and choreographers from all around the world want to perform in New York City," it says. "Come in and find out why."
In this day and age, such a hunky-dory outlook is not what the dance world needs. A truth must be faced before it's too late: New York is no longer the capital of the contemporary-dance world.
The point is not to declare a new capital - there isn't one - but to recognize that there has been a shift in the power base since the formation of the European Union, where the creative landscapes in Amsterdam and Bucharest are just as vital as those brewing in Berlin, Brussels, Paris and Vienna. If nothing else, the European Union has cultivated a network of artists with no perceptible center of bureaucratic power.
The European dance community stretches beyond culture and country and is made possible by curators and producers who may not always make the right choices but who aren't afraid to try something new. It is impossible to compete with such vitality: Europe is becoming what New York used to be. In Europe, innovation flows like water from one country to the next. The work, while varied in quality, has an undeniable energy that has only partly to do with financing and resources. There is still great dance to be seen in New York, but the city is in danger of losing what made the dance world here so vital to begin with: bravery.
That experimental dance isn't completely dead here is sort of astonishing. A bold approach doesn't seem to be encouraged. Most producers continue to support the status quo in programming that does little to shift or expand the concept of dance. For artists, New York can seem like a playground for the rich, and the effort to survive can eclipse - at least temporarily - a substantial portion of their creativity. Understandably, it has become less alluring to give up security for dance, an art form that offers few concrete rewards.
By now, the notion of modern dance is fairly passé. But in New York there are plenty of occasions on which it seems we are still living in that familiar era of modern dance, fueled by producers who don't trust that their audiences can grasp challenging, conceptual work. More troubling are the choreographers who seem willing to trade intellectual and creative rigor for a four-day season at a respectable theater. It's mystifying that so many young artists seem to want to embrace the existing system, as outdated as it is. Yet even what they think is new - a loft performance in Brooklyn, for example - does little to defy the way dance has traditionally been framed.
The biggest problem has to do with a preponderance of presenters, in and out of New York, who possess the power to effect change yet are unwilling to take risks. Many producers in the United States communalize their opinions. They are so scared of losing money that they book the same artists year after year and are responsible for turning American dance into a traveling road show for Taylor 2, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater and ... (fill in the blank with something proven and safe).
For many audience members dance remains a form meant solely to entertain, and that mentality trickles down to artists who, whether they know it or not, regard risk and experimentation as impediments to fulfilling the potential (as ambiguous as it is) of their careers. Programming is familiar, the ensuing work is familiar, but without introducing chance there is little room for provocation, stupid, vapid or smart.
On the surface, it may seem as if there are no more rules to break. In Europe, choreographers are still motivated by the work of Judson-era choreographers. There is also an undeniable New York influence; Meg Stuart and Jennifer Lacey, two European-based American choreographers who came of age in the East Village of the 1980's and mid-90's, have successful careers to show for it. But for New York artists, the 60's are over, and with them, a sense of recklessness.
By GIA KOURLAS / NEW YORK TIMES
Published: September 6, 2005
The Web site of Dance/NYC (www.dancenyc.org), the local branch of Dance/USA, is full of bubbly messages about the glory of dance in New York. "There's a reason why dancers, dance companies and choreographers from all around the world want to perform in New York City," it says. "Come in and find out why."
In this day and age, such a hunky-dory outlook is not what the dance world needs. A truth must be faced before it's too late: New York is no longer the capital of the contemporary-dance world.
The point is not to declare a new capital - there isn't one - but to recognize that there has been a shift in the power base since the formation of the European Union, where the creative landscapes in Amsterdam and Bucharest are just as vital as those brewing in Berlin, Brussels, Paris and Vienna. If nothing else, the European Union has cultivated a network of artists with no perceptible center of bureaucratic power.
The European dance community stretches beyond culture and country and is made possible by curators and producers who may not always make the right choices but who aren't afraid to try something new. It is impossible to compete with such vitality: Europe is becoming what New York used to be. In Europe, innovation flows like water from one country to the next. The work, while varied in quality, has an undeniable energy that has only partly to do with financing and resources. There is still great dance to be seen in New York, but the city is in danger of losing what made the dance world here so vital to begin with: bravery.
That experimental dance isn't completely dead here is sort of astonishing. A bold approach doesn't seem to be encouraged. Most producers continue to support the status quo in programming that does little to shift or expand the concept of dance. For artists, New York can seem like a playground for the rich, and the effort to survive can eclipse - at least temporarily - a substantial portion of their creativity. Understandably, it has become less alluring to give up security for dance, an art form that offers few concrete rewards.
By now, the notion of modern dance is fairly passé. But in New York there are plenty of occasions on which it seems we are still living in that familiar era of modern dance, fueled by producers who don't trust that their audiences can grasp challenging, conceptual work. More troubling are the choreographers who seem willing to trade intellectual and creative rigor for a four-day season at a respectable theater. It's mystifying that so many young artists seem to want to embrace the existing system, as outdated as it is. Yet even what they think is new - a loft performance in Brooklyn, for example - does little to defy the way dance has traditionally been framed.
The biggest problem has to do with a preponderance of presenters, in and out of New York, who possess the power to effect change yet are unwilling to take risks. Many producers in the United States communalize their opinions. They are so scared of losing money that they book the same artists year after year and are responsible for turning American dance into a traveling road show for Taylor 2, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater and ... (fill in the blank with something proven and safe).
For many audience members dance remains a form meant solely to entertain, and that mentality trickles down to artists who, whether they know it or not, regard risk and experimentation as impediments to fulfilling the potential (as ambiguous as it is) of their careers. Programming is familiar, the ensuing work is familiar, but without introducing chance there is little room for provocation, stupid, vapid or smart.
On the surface, it may seem as if there are no more rules to break. In Europe, choreographers are still motivated by the work of Judson-era choreographers. There is also an undeniable New York influence; Meg Stuart and Jennifer Lacey, two European-based American choreographers who came of age in the East Village of the 1980's and mid-90's, have successful careers to show for it. But for New York artists, the 60's are over, and with them, a sense of recklessness.