PHASE SPACE choreography by Peggy Baker (Peggy Baker Dance Projects). At the Betty Oliphant (404 Jarvis). Runs to January 31. $23-$28. 1-800-838-3006. peggybakerdance.com. See Dance listings. Rating NNNN
In physics, “Phase Space” is a term that describes disruptions of time and space that explode the continuities and chronologies we typically assign to life unfolding. Peggy Baker has elegantly translated that concept into a quartet of dances that alternately seduce and disturb.
The choreography draws on the dancers’ mined memories of movement fragments and gestures from past Baker works. Baker is explicit about the mechanics of creation in her pre-show talk, and I find it helpful to refer to her lucid rationalization while struggling with more than a few dissonant onstage moments. This is not always an easy show to experience.
The opening trio section is especially challenging. Singer Fides Krucker has coached performers Sahara Morimoto, Sarah Fregeau and Ric Brown in vocalizing their movement. Though I respect the intention of delving deeper into internal memory and emotional landscapes using voice, the resulting howling, moaning and muttering sometimes overrule the movement. Yes, I feel distressed, if that is the intent no, I don’t like when it happens.
But I’m soothed by the gorgeous solo for Morimoto that follows. It’s technically difficult, yet Morimoto makes it feel cosmic, flexing wrists and scooping the air with her shoulders and arms. She floats determinedly in her square of reflective tape to a spacy score by John Kameel Farah, who’s situated high up at the back of the stage.
Farah’s epic and at times overwhelming soundscape is delivered live, vivid electronic compositions filling even the interstitial blackouts between dances.
This is an interesting departure from contemporary dance convention – we can’t chatter amongst ourselves when the curtains close – as are the stately bowing formations that end each dance. They reinforce the surreal, dreamlike nature of the program. We realize we’re trapped but are fascinated nonetheless.
The third piece is a duet, with Morimoto replacing original cast member Sean Ling, who’s out with an injury. Here, she and Andrea Nann move on separate trajectories without looking at each other they work all the angles of designer Marc Parent‘s glowing quadrant of light.
The excellent Kate Holden performs the final work with her usual unwavering precision, but I find myself longing to see this solo without the trappings. Thin vocalizations amped through a microphone on her forehead and the hint of narrative provided by the set – a large blank artwork with slashes in the canvas – add more despairing texture than I need.
In the end I leave the theatre feeling a bit flayed. Which could be a good thing, but it’s not necessarily a fun thing.
