Photo: Rachel Neville
Photo: Rachel Neville

I don’t need to see Jessica Lang Dance

Kat J. Sullivan

I don’t need traditional gender roles. I don’t need male dancers, by and large, partnering female dancers.* I don’t need voiceovers of Tony Bennett, segmenting the finale of the evening This Thing Called Love, visualized by the male dancers alone. I don’t need dancers slow dancing in male/female pairs, except when a male dancer is otherwise occupied by a solo. I don’t need male and female dancers miming infatuation with each other with weighted glances and sultry winks amidst long penché arabesques and turns in attitude derrière. I don’t need the infatuation at all.

I don’t need Kana Kimura to exit the stage during us/we, a world premiere, and reappear with a huge black tulle skirt pulled over her costume of amalgamated t-shirt pieces (worn by the rest of the cast as well). Members of the ensemble wear scraps of bafflingly political shifts: I see shirts about “the rebellion” and the CNN logo alongside a company shirt for a small dance studio. The dancers intersperse athletic lifts, legs split in grand jetés, with whispers on the potential of humankind when united. In between such sections, Kimura struts around the stage making eyes at the audience. I don’t see what this has to do with anything else. I especially don’t need this in the middle of a piece in which the apparent thematic material is the division of humanity, the sociopolitical atmosphere, and urban environments. Particularly when the majority of the company and the choreographer appear to be white, this is simply tone deaf.

I don’t need to see Jessica Lang Dance because I’ve seen the glossing over of complexity and the harshness of reality in contemporary dance all too often. Despite numerous awards and accolades, including a Bessie Award and commissions from Jacob’s Pillow and The Joyce Theater, I found the work to be pre-digested to the point of blandness and baldly obvious. Nothing I saw was innovative, or fresh, or added any nuance to the human experience beyond “love is when you flirt with the opposite sex and pain is when you writhe on the floor.” I don’t need emotion for the sake of glamour, forsaking any authentic emotional experience.

If you, on the other hand, do need to see Jessica Lang Dance, you had better do it soon. The company announced that it will be folding in April in a press release, noting that, “Ms. Lang will continue her creative work as a choreographer, working with companies around the world.” A New York Times article cited the financial difficulties of managing a small company as a contributing factor, in addition to Lang’s desire to return to creating dance full time, uninhibited by administrative responsibilities. According to a WHYY article, she already has a few choreography gigs lined up.

*Based on the pronouns used in the bios of each artist, it appears that all dancers in the company are either male or female.

Jessica Lang Dance, Zellerbach Theatre at the Annenberg Center, Nov. 30-Dec. 1.

Share this article

Kat J. Sullivan

Kat J. Sullivan is a Philly-based dancer, choreographer, writer, and photographer. She performs with local artists in her own and others’ choreographies, and improvises as a way of research and knowing. She is a former editorial board member, editor, and staff writer with thINKingDANCE. Learn more.

PARTNER CONTENT

Keep Reading

Tango – I Think About It All the Time

Rachel DeForrest Repinz

Tango Therapy Project offers community, connection, and joy.

A group of dancers wearing various multi-colored shirts sit in chairs arranged in a circle in the center of a church meeting room. They are surrounded by intricate stained glass windows, warm wooden flooring, and off-white painted walls. As they sit, they raise their arms above their heads and smile at one another.
Photo: Helio Ha

Multilayered Memory in a Feminist Timescape

Emilee Lord

Jasmine Hearn’s Memory Fleet: Beloved, Let’s Cross

A dancer dips into a low second position, leaning over her right knee, chest and chin lifted, an open right hand reaching. Her silver top and the billowing folds of her skirt shimmer in the blueish light. Behidn her a row of dancers standing in gowns of different constructions and colors, sparkling and reflecting as behind them a video of a field path plays, one dancer in a yellow dress walking on screen.
Photo: Maria Baranova