The world premiere of Paufve Dance’s Sisters, on the first day of ODC Theater’s State of Play 2024 dance festival is sold-out. The house burbles with excitement. Some like myself, have been eagerly anticipating this evening-length work, since the June 2023 showing of several of its seed duets. Using contemporary dance as its language, choreographer Randee Paufve, working in collaboration with a cast of eleven, has created a series of short stories which express the deep and abiding bonds between women, within and without families, across generations and geographies.
Our first image is of a solitary figure, Maurya Kerr, standing with her back to us, arms open and raised as if channeling the will of the gods. Kerr’s dance moves through the spirit and shapes of many. One moment she is casting an invisible lasso through the air, the next she is slinking across the stage on the balls of her feet, as if in tall heels. She grasps her heart, caving into a crippling walk, before rising into the seductive pose of a saloon matron or pin-up girl, one hand tucked fetchingly behind her head, shoulder raised and hip canted. Kerr represents a matriarchal guiding spirit which surrounds Sisters, lifting the downtrodden and injecting a spirit of resilience or defiance as needed.
Paufve uses her intergenerational and racially diverse cast well. Large ensembles frame the smaller more intimate dances. Solos, duets, and trios, most often unfold with the remaining women standing, or sitting nearby, bearing witness, their facial foci unerringly directed at the protagonists. Sisters illustrates how the deep connection of sisterhood endures in the face of both the joyful and the horrific. The hard-fought wisdom of past generations, the keeping of secrets, the forging of new identities, the abiding care, the feminine and the fierce are all present.
Giving birth, achingly, legs wide spread Olivia Caldeira Holston, in a blood red bodysuit, launches us into the story-telling. Costumer Elizabeth Zepeda, who also performs in the piece, gives each dancer a unique look, no doubt to suggest the breadth of lived experience. Unfortunately, rather than helping to define the various characters, the great variety of color, texture, length and historical style of the clothing creates more questions than answers. Similarly, Paufve’s musical selections are drawn from a wide diaspora. They range from country crooner Waylon Jennings, to the computer manipulated otherworldly vocals of Holly Herndon, on to a romantic era piano tune by Fanny Mendelssohn. Each song delivers us effectively to the world of a new sisterly relationship unfurling onstage, though again the variety is a lot to absorb in an hour.
Ten women form a flock as their spirit guide, Kerr, weaves gently through their midst. Their diagonal trajectory culminates in a stunning moment of unified suspension, as each dancer tips onto a single vertical leg. Their other extends to hover in their wake as their arms spread wide in flight formation.
The cast of Paufve Dance's 'Sisters' takes a final bow at ODC Theater; Photo by Jen Norris
A nostalgia pervades as piano music surging with longing plays. Anna Greenberg Gold and Juliana Monin struggle to keep each other upright. Gold swoons, arching back, arms reaching heavenward, as Monin swoops to catch her. Righting themselves, they embrace, before Monin sinks, slipping from Gold’s grasp. Leaning into, pushing away from, they both require and resent each other. Gold crawls to Monin, climbing up her body, then whipping roughly away, only to return for a hug. Gold’s desperate dependence is writ large, as she clings to Monin’s chest like a koala hugs a tree.
Young cast member Lily Gee performs a dynamic solo, as a line of sisters observe from the shadows. Fighting for space, Gee kicks out from a jump. Crouching then lunging, she pauses to regard us with suspicion. Trying on identities, she poses chest out, palms resting high on her haunches, before throwing herself into a wild uncontrolled barrel turn. Landing on the floor she presses into a shoulder stand.
There are too many chapters to describe, or even credit them all, but I particularly enjoyed Elizabeth Zepeda and Shruti Abhishek’s duet. Beginning in silence upstage center, the pattering of their bare feet stepping side-to-side creates a synchronized rhythm. They move in tandem, pounding down the center of the space in long strides, balancing on their toes at the downstage edge, leaning away from each other to part so each may carve a wide circle back to the start. Repeating their linear pattern, dashing one time, sauntering while checking for underarm odor or bad breath another time, they are two women on similar paths. This lighthearted physical banter is soon broken, as stories of troubled births intercede. A female voice speaks of 5 days of labor, 3 visits to the hospital, 2 shots of morphine, and 7 days in the NICU. Bonded by these harrowing tales, Zepeda and Abhishek find comfort and support in each other.
In a broad plié, Abhishek, her open hand like a multi-frond leaf, pushes her arm upward, an act of rebelliousness and growth. The voice speaks of the long wait for citizenship and finally being allowed to return home. The women kneel in prayer, as the voice wonders if her mother, the person she has needed so much for so long, will after ten years, recognize her daughter. Others join, bending at the waist to glide fingertip across the floor, tracing journeys and planting seeds upon the soil.
The piece concludes with a clever country western ode exploring the flirty flinty butch in each of us. Molly Levy has her elbow casually thrown over a makeshift fence, created by the stick straight backs of the supporting cast members who hold their arms goalpost-style as pickets. Irene Hsi ambles in, her bright red cowboy shirt draws Levy’s attention. A train whistle sounds, as Kerr, wearing a Stetson hat swaggers in, hands on hips.
Levy and Hsi make L- shapes with their hands. Nested in their hip joints, like guns in holsters, their fingers frame their pelvises. Facing off, they draw their weapons and shoot each other dead. Is this lesbian love gone awry? Sibling jealousy? Or a metaphor for the violent extremes to which a masculinization of women might lead?
Reincarnated by Kerr, Hsi and Levy join the whole ensemble in a lively synchronized finale. Some of Sisters’ stories and relationships are quite transparent, others are opaque, but all are richly emotive. The pure abundance of a stage full of talented dancers moving with purpose and grace feels like a gift.
Review by Jen Norris, published August 3, 2024
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Paufve Dance: Sisters (world premiere)
THURSDAY, AUGUST 1, 8 PM FRIDAY, AUGUST 2, 7 PM
CHOREOGRAPHY Randee Paufve IN COLLABORATION WITH PERFORMERS
PERFORMERS Shruti Abhishek | Erin Coyne | Lily Gee Anna Greenberg Gold | Olivia Caldeira Holston | Irene Hsi | Maurya Kerr | Molly Levy | Juliana Monin | Laila Shabazz | Elizabeth Zepeda
COSTUME DESIGN Elizabeth Zepeda
LIGHTING DESIGN Rogelio Lopez
STAGE MANAGER Zoë Quon
MUSIC
Tone for Maurya original composition by Max Brody; Frontier and Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt by Holly Herndon from the album Proto; Lied in E-Flat Major by Fanny Mendelssohn, recorded by Heather Schmidt; Outro (The Let Down) by U.S. Girls, from the album Bless This Mess; Hajar by Katia Krow, from the album Julfar; Slow, Sad, Sweet, Sweeping, with Runouts by Joshua Fried from Spell for Opening the Mouth of N (unreleased); Come Live With Me (Interlude) by Brandee Younger, from the album Brand New Life; Saddle Sores and Fievel Goes West by Javelin, from the album Canyon Candy; Dreaming My Dreams With You by Waylon Jennings, from the album The Essential Waylon Jennings; Focus by Bill Frisell, from the album Disfarmer.
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