The documentary is lovely. To see any dancer’s life so affectionately, patiently, and fully framed on film is a blessing. Her activism reminded how front-and-center dance stood in the counter-culture movements of the 60′s and 70′s. Dance was so valued, so vibrant; it truly became a full-fledged art. I still look around at our current dance climate and say “what happened?”

I wished there had been more of her pale chalk-caked body  sitting in the crook of the embankment stroking her cheek with dark mud. More of that. And of her wrapped in fabric rolled by the ocean waves. More of that. Less biographical interview and more of her body, her dance…

Our program was an hour in length with all nine members remaining in the Witnessed Arena the entire time. The dancers, wearing pale, flowing clothing, sometimes moved in a specific practice and sometimes watched in witness practice. The goal was to stay relaxed and connected to breath during the sequence of practices and transitions while being observed — simple, but difficult.

The tone and stability was set by a long Opening Sequence. The Walking Meditation was particularly arresting in the pale silks, some dancers dragging veils or holding them bunched but quiet. It had a sense of women across many times and generations. The variety of ages and body types contributed to the sculptural beauty and was refreshing in meaning. The final line of dancers standing along the front of the space shimmying for a period of time gazing straight at the audience, then standing still  facing the audience, eyes closed in a minute of silent meditation was exquisite. There was no coercion, only a pure intimacy. Viewers eyes had time to breathe and see. To rest their eyes on each quiet face.

The responses were many and touching. One woman said she felt she was dreaming, and after only had to go to bed to sleep. Several people said after they couldn’t speak they were so moved and in a deep personal space; later they talked at length. Those of us who stayed for the remainder of the week were stopped in hallways with reflections from those who attended. As a life-long performer, I’ve never had such a warm and thoughtful response from an audience, which speaks to both the content of the Alembic’s work and the nature of the audience Kripalu attracts — a perfect location for this marriage of Art and Mysticism.

As choreographer for the evening, I have been wondering if observation of the practices arranged and carefully designed so the dancers could stay inside their focus would actually work within a theatrical context. To see that it does is thrilling for me. It inspires me to once again delve deeply into Art, a realm that had become dry, empty, ego-based, which I found uninteresting.  The Alembic evening was healing and beautiful. The dancers were very human, very spacious, and very sincere. Their beauty came from this and gave these qualities back to the audience.

The ensemble for this evening was:  Dunya McPherson with Elizabeth Abbene, Carleen Bevans, Anastasia Blaisdelle, Nisaa Christie, Ann Galkowski, Annabelle Keil, Gayla Reilly, Kate Russel, and Kate Temple-West.

The Dunyati Alembic is the performance wing of the Dervish Society of America, under the direction of Dunya Dianne McPherson. The performers share Dancemeditation™ as a dominant influence in their self-understanding. Performative presentations are a framing of group and personal practices, with a vision of absorption into Beauty and Mystery.

Its next evening is February 22, 2010, 7pm at the Metropolitan Building in NYC, a continuing working series made possible by Eleanor Ambos’ generous gift of space.

Binoche & Khan
–by Kate Temple-West

Intrigued by the tagline “an actor dances and a dancer acts,” I bought a ticket to In/I as part of Brooklyn Academy of Music’s NextWave festival.  The actor happened to be Juliette Binoche, so there it was.  Dancer and choreographer Akram Khan was also very easy to fall in love with.  I loved his Kathak-inspired dance and his relentless questioning of self.   His elegant movement stacked on challenges, building out from each of his most surprising variations.
The piece was clearly being choreographed from a male point of view.  Binoche was the woman in the red dress: tantalizing, imploring, demanding, feinting, rejecting, but always shaped by Khan’s movement.
Binoche is a genius collaborator given this constraint, as she’s managed to carve her true spirit out of the form of the male gaze in her impressive 20 plus year film and stage career. The most powerful part of the piece was watching her witnessing Khan– not moving, saying, or doing anything at all on the surface.
Kahn and Binoche handled her dance limitations very cleverly.   She moves from her core, with very little energetic help from the sky.  She was costumed in clunky shoes that emphasized her earth bound state, and Kahn lifted her first in a pose that evoked, for me anyway, the hanged man of the tarot, later lifting her like a trophy, and later still like a burden before finally suspending her, magician-like, in mid-air.
Although the piece was focused on a romantic relationship, the dynamic between the two delved into the desire for love and the frustrations of truly being present with another.  ‘I don’t see you, I don’t see you,’ Binoche chanted/taunted at Kahn after his solo, but the tone of her voice and her stillness said, ‘You don’t see me.’
Despite all of that, the connection between the two was quite beautiful throughout.  By the end they did see each other, or they both recognized what they didn’t or couldn’t see.
I greedily wanted more of this piece, an act two, which I probably won’t get as Binoche says ‘dancing is damn hard’.  She says that she is ‘just learning about how to hold the energy’ and is studying Chi Gung.  She’d love Dancemeditation…
Afterward the performance I was able to eavesdrop on other audience member’s reactions.  Some of the female theater people were frustrated by the choreography– ‘Binoche didn’t get to be strong enough! If I’d been directing…’ Some of the dance people were frustrated by Binoche’s dancing.
It was a messy, provoking piece of dance and theater that left me pondering the mystery of how to truly witness each other when we desire to be loved.

check out Kate’s blog

Video by Benno Klandt   Alembic.mov

photo Paul B.Goode

This is how I started the  last post and it works well for yesterday’s performance at Eleanor Ambos’ Metropolitan Building. Six dancers of the Alembic last night included; Nisaa Christie, myself (Dunya), Jennifer Maeve, Kate Temple-West, Anita Teresa, and Anasma Vuong. We performed a 40 minute inward-facing Dancemeditation improvisation with brilliant percussionist Benno Klandt that was witnessed by friends, who then joined us in a movement period. Friendly Herbalist Kate Temple-West then had linden tea ready for all.

It was utterly beautiful to watch the various dancers emerge in an authetic fashion, and a pleasure to do myself as I felt no pressure except the ever-present challenges that meditation introduces. In reflection I could say that being witnessed always brings out the urge to please the viewer, thus take care of them, as well as a feeling that who I am is not enough. These are deeply held beliefs. They have softened over time but still come up. I strive for detachment from judgement – mine and the viewers’. I seek to be relaxed and engaged moment-to-moment.

Here are photos: