The Execution of Gaga

Batsheva Dance Company, Feb. 3, Annenberg Center

by Deni Kasrel

(CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

No one could blame the Annenberg audience for going a little gaga over Batsheva. Gaga is the name of a movement method developed by Ohad Naharin, Batsheva Dance Company's artistic director. Centered around natural biodynamics and spatial relationships, gaga is practiced (by professional dancers and lay people alike) by doing a series of exercises designed to link conscious and subconscious movement in order to heighten sensations. The execution of gaga is up to the individual — there are no set steps or positions.

Batsheva's works are immersed in the gaga mind-set. Each performer does his or her own thing. Not that it's a free-for-all — there is choreography, much of it highly precise. But even when operating in unison, each dancer looks slightly different. If everyone throws their arms in the air, no two dancers do so exactly alike. It's a subtlety that may not seem like a big deal, but there's a formidable conceit going on: The subtext reads that even when one is part of a group, there is room for freedom of expression.

Expression came in many forms at this performance, titled "Deca Dance" and composed of excerpts from 10 years of company repertory. The varied combination made for intriguing segues and enabled Batsheva to showcase the depth of its physical prowess. The creative movement potpourri juxtaposed a range of styles including pedestrian, comically idiosyncratic and full-out high-energy athletic.

Several of the pieces featured repeating phrases that continuously built on a succession of gestures, so that if the first phrase had four distinct movements, the phrase that followed had those same four and then added one more, and so on. These progressions created a hypnotic rhythm. There was satire and tidbits of provocation, such as recorded text written by Charles Bukowski that included profanity, heard in George & Zalman, and fleeting flashes of private parts seen in the finale, Three. In Zachacha, the cast ventured out into the audience and selected people to come up on stage and dance with them. The amateurs held their own and the action here served to amplify an underlying intent of Batsheva's oeuvre, which is for us to enter and share in the pleasure and experience of their world.

(deni.kasrel@citypaper.net)