2008 Woodie Awards
New Fringe, Two Nights of New, "Fringe" Dance
Alexandra Houston
Issue date: 1/31/06 Section: Arts & Entertainment
The Greensboro Fringe Festival kicked off its 4th year showcasing New Fringe Artists downtown at the Broach Theatre Jan. 26-27th. The show was a mix of dance and theatre featuring local artists. The Fringe festival is known for celebrating arts that are a little off center, quirky and outside of the mainstream. Friday night's performance served up just that along with little pieces of cake.
The night opened with soloist Julie Boulton, performing choreographer Heather Nabors's Good Feet, Long Hair and other words of wisdom. It was cutesy and gestural. Boulton spun around in her blue sundress, giving advise about life while moving. Twirling fingers and sniffing armpits; a fun opening for the evening.
Choreographer Christine Kiernan performed her original piece, Unfamiliar (seems strangely familiar), a slow exploration of discovery. The piece balanced tender and gentle against floppy wild bursts of energy. Kiernan hovered over and spliced through an internal investigation supported by beautiful music from The Rachels.
Cake Dance, performed by Julie Mulvihill and Nicole Laliberte, was the highlight of the evening. Dressed in pigtails and Pumas, with tiny skirts and tassels on their behinds, the dance was a breathy, vicious fight over a piece of cake. Filled with name calling, scraping, biting and hair pulling, I wondered if this should have been on pay per view. Their partnering was gutsy; a mixture of contact improvisation techniques and wrestling. While this violent display went on, little slices of cake were served to the audience. And unbeknownst to the fighters, dancer Erin Leigh sat down and ate the piece of cake that they were fighting over. Once the realized this, they cursed and gave up, carrying each other off.
returning, performed by ShaLeigh Dance Works & Company, reminded me of a sweet nightmare. It began with the two women, dreamily searching each others faces and then entered a severe looking woman dressed as a very cold Spaniard. She glided in her wintry hat and long coat with her red flamenco skirt and shoes peeking from underneath. She sternly striked her heel over and over again, takes off her outer layers and starts ranting in Spanish. They whisper frantically, do the running man, and duet with folding chairs. They are mourning and itchy, dragging and dazed, frantically flickering. It was all very abstract and fragmented but somehow still sweet.
The night opened with soloist Julie Boulton, performing choreographer Heather Nabors's Good Feet, Long Hair and other words of wisdom. It was cutesy and gestural. Boulton spun around in her blue sundress, giving advise about life while moving. Twirling fingers and sniffing armpits; a fun opening for the evening.
Choreographer Christine Kiernan performed her original piece, Unfamiliar (seems strangely familiar), a slow exploration of discovery. The piece balanced tender and gentle against floppy wild bursts of energy. Kiernan hovered over and spliced through an internal investigation supported by beautiful music from The Rachels.
Cake Dance, performed by Julie Mulvihill and Nicole Laliberte, was the highlight of the evening. Dressed in pigtails and Pumas, with tiny skirts and tassels on their behinds, the dance was a breathy, vicious fight over a piece of cake. Filled with name calling, scraping, biting and hair pulling, I wondered if this should have been on pay per view. Their partnering was gutsy; a mixture of contact improvisation techniques and wrestling. While this violent display went on, little slices of cake were served to the audience. And unbeknownst to the fighters, dancer Erin Leigh sat down and ate the piece of cake that they were fighting over. Once the realized this, they cursed and gave up, carrying each other off.
returning, performed by ShaLeigh Dance Works & Company, reminded me of a sweet nightmare. It began with the two women, dreamily searching each others faces and then entered a severe looking woman dressed as a very cold Spaniard. She glided in her wintry hat and long coat with her red flamenco skirt and shoes peeking from underneath. She sternly striked her heel over and over again, takes off her outer layers and starts ranting in Spanish. They whisper frantically, do the running man, and duet with folding chairs. They are mourning and itchy, dragging and dazed, frantically flickering. It was all very abstract and fragmented but somehow still sweet.
