Li Chiao-Ping Dance

In Li Chiao-Ping Dance's I Ching 20 concert at the Margaret H'Doubler Performance Space, dance takes a back seat to voiceover text and giant video projections. With soft atmospheric music accompanying most of the concert, the ten pieces presented fell a bit short on variety, save for a few of Li's works and two lively stand-alone screendances created by guest artist, Omari 'Motion' Carter.

In EASE ON DOWN, Carter guides a percussive video duet down a dirt road. What starts as a playful walk in the country, evolves into a beat banter between Carter and partner, Rhona Ashwood. Kicking up rocks in rhythm and hopping down the road in a handstand--upside down and spring-loaded—the pair's light-hearted footwork builds until with a wry humor, they encounter a dead end. Brief and pure fun.

Carter's other fine contribution, IN PURSUIT OF JOY: A SCREENDANCE BBQ, allows the camera's eye to flit and cut from one group or person to another in a lively backyard party. Capturing snippets of movement—from a close up of arms flipping food on a grill, to bare feet walking on grass, to a lyric trio gracefully gesturing on a picnic blanket, to a line-dancing laughing crowd, the piece is so keenly edited that the viewer becomes a party guest.

Effort abounds in Li's portion of the program, giving primary focus to personal stories of racism, neglect and ridicule over American stereotypes of Asian identity, albeit in a way that keeps things dry, isolated and densely layered.

In three solo sections from DIRTY LAUNDRY PROJECT, dancers move to text recorded in their own voices from their own histories telling both too much and too little at the same time. This thick, overpowering text along with dark, monotonous instrumental music and large projections overwhelm the live performers making it difficult to decipher any narrative or to connect with any broader concern. The subtle sturdy yet physical movement vocabulary remains detached from the text leaving these dances feeling contained and inaccessible. 

Jessica Robling and Elisabeth Roskopf dance Li's more successful Belong, on a large rectangle of astroturf. The pair twists and lunges confined to their place in a ruthless society. Voiceover text accompanies again, this time about the dancers experiences as adoptees, witnesses to racism, and feelings of being outsiders. Sans video projection, and with careful definitive lighting by Claude Heintz, the dancers dominate. Slowly the two bond together. As the turf beneath their feet warps and distorts, they join forces and emerge from the muddled ground staunch and strong.

Li's screendance contribution, in silence is the offering presented, compellingly depicts a mother and son relationship (performed by Li and her son Jacob Li Dai-Loong Rosenberg). Gently standing in silhouette at the ocean's edge, sitting on a park bench, holding hands on a pathway of meticulously manicured trees, the pair seemingly moves through time and life together here in a beautiful meditation on letting go.

The evening finale, titled Earth, relinquishes text and video projection, putting forth the most successful dance of the evening. Aerobic and dynamic, four dancers leap side to side and slap their hips building in energy with each repetition. A ritual or a confrontation, or simply an exercise in movement patterns, Earth has a power to it—the power of pure dance.