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Thursday, October 22, 2015

Special Topic: Choreoliteralism

Choreoliteralism is not a dance genre, per se, though it may certainly correlate with the off-ice category of lyrical dance, in its primary meaning -- a balletic/jazz-rooted form illustrating lyrics equal to or over melodic line and rhythm. In other words, lyrical dance relies on a fairly literal depiction of a song's lyrics. On the ice, lyrical has primarily come to be used to refer to any soft, often romantic program style drawing on ballet-influenced upper body shape and line and, ironically, usually skated to instrumentals. Examples in the current free dance era alone are numerous; Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir's 2009-10 Mahler, Kaitlin Hawayek and Jean-Luc Baker's 2013-14 Amelie and Gabriella Papadakis and Guillaume Cizeron's 2014-15 Mozart all can be classed under this umbrella (while the latter team's free was inspired by a contemporary ballet, on-ice movement in its limitations and the primary emphasis on emotionalism over refinement would compel me to consider the piece more lyrical than ballet, versus a program clearly drawing on recognized elements of ballet technique).

But all of that is to miss the point, which is the true concept of "lyrical" dance in skating form. And here we draw a distinction between choreoliteralism and narrative movement. A good program can tell a story through abstract gesture. Virtue and Moir's Carmen utilized modern dance language to tell a reasonably clear-cut story; Hawayek and Baker's new Theory of Everything free plainly depicts Stephen Hawking's battle with ALS without sacrificing the integrity of a contemporary dance approach. No, what we talk about when we talk about choreoliteralism is something more on-the-nose.

Christopher Dean, in the 2011-12 season, presented two shining examples of the concept. Watch and listen, here, how Piper Gilles and Paul Poirier start their "Pure Imagination" free dance:


Gilles' brother Todd, who had some success in prior partnerships with Trina Pratt and Jane Summersett, teamed for that same season with Emily Samuelson, herself an accomplished skater with Evan Bates. The pairing would be short-lived, but they did have the opportunity to skate this Dean creation to a cover of Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven" -- a lyric of key inspiration:


It's worth acknowledging that sometimes this literal approach can be taken without lyrics, as such -- see Dmitri Soloviev lip-sync a bird's cry, or Nikita Katsalapov enact Sam's shooting while a V/O dialogue track shares Elena-as-Molly's distress. But these are the extravagant cases, and further pursuit may lead us down an unwanted road of many a most unfortunate death on ice. We'll return our primary focus to that smaller concern, those moments which do not come in the service of conveying a specific storyline through overt gesture (an approach which can itself be fraught with choreography by pantomime), but rather a simple lyric.

Choreoliteralism has taken on a new vogue within the work of Marie-France Dubreuil and Patrice Lauzon. An early non-competitive effort from the duo more abstractly hinted at this approach, with Virtue and Moir's 2010 "I Want to Hold Your Hand" show program highlighting a variety of hand-to-hand motions. As full-time coaches and competitive choreographers, the duo, and Dubreuil in particular, have shown a special interest in lyrical material by its skating definition, perhaps making the transition towards more literally lyrical moments this season a logical one.

While the element is subtle enough in itself, costuming turns a key moment in Elisabeth Paradis and François-Xavier Ouellette's free dance to Simon & Garfunkel's "Bridge Over Troubled Water" into a great demonstration of the choreoliteral lift:


Meanwhile, reference to birds and wings -- to say nothing of reaching arms -- translates clearly in Alexandra Paul and Mitch Islam's "Where Is It Written?" free:


But 2015's choreoliteral trend is not confined to the rink at Gadbois, as Gilles and Poirier, in a short dance made this time by coaches Carol Lane and Juris Razgulajevs, can attest:


Outside of the competitive realm, an additional rather interesting contribution to our sample comes from a non-skating choreographer -- a recent creation by Dancing With the Stars ballroom pro Sharna Burgess for Meryl Davis and Charlie White. This piece to Florence + the Machine's "Dog Days Are Over" contains not one example of choreoliteralism -- nay, the practice abounds; identify a verb and see it realized:


Among specific moments, it's difficult to see given the angle in this video, but in a recording of their latest performance at Rockefeller Center, Davis nicely illustrates the concept of being "hit" by happiness. Kisses are blown at 1:47; the duo runs at 2:16. It is, however, worth acknowledging that Burgess's Dancing With the Stars work tends to take a more musically-based approach.

Literal interpretation of lyrics is certainly practiced outside the world of strictly lyrical dance, as in Bollywood, for one, with its marriage of theatre and dance, as well as Western musical theatre to an extent, as contemporary choreographer Mia Michaels -- uncomfortable with literal lyrical choreo in her usual field -- recognized when adapting herself to Broadway's environs. Of course, taken too far, the choreoliteral practice also becomes easy fodder for humor, as in, say, Saturday Night Live's series of "DeMarco Brothers" sketches in the early 2000s, featuring a pair of aspiring back-up dancers who thoroughly acted out lyrics to Bon Jovi or Britney Spears songs in a bid to obtain employment with such musical idols.

Prior to the introduction of lyric vocals in the non-dance disciplines of skating, a common criticism leveled against the suggested use of such was indeed the risk of programs becoming a game of charades more than an interpretation of pure music, an interesting fear when, given the nature of its elements and timing, dance is arguably the more musically sensitive of the disciplines. But this concern (one not yet significantly borne out in singles or pairs) also points to a simply different understanding in skating than in dance of lyrics' purpose; what can be a point of dispute among some in the vast and various world of dance off the ice is somewhat more limited in skating, with existing concerns about the line between kitsch and art alongside considerable limitations upon movement. A dancer can use full body to express music and lyric alike; a skater with less range of motion may be reduced to the odd arm gesture or punning element, a moment that draws attention to itself for its sheer outlier status.

But perhaps the fundamental fear is one not quite touched upon, and it's one of sheer difficulty: creating and executing movement to provided words is simply easier than creating and executing movement rooted in the textures and nuances of any piece of music, instrumental or vocal. Words are obvious to any choreographer familiar with a language; musical subtleties are sometimes not. A given gesture may be challenging in its own right to deliver, but is it fundamentally more challenging than the act of moving with full awareness of subtle rhythmic and melodic shifts through any live performance's pitfalls?

Choreoliteralism is, ultimately, one possible approach for the skating choreographer, typically one facet of a larger, more general tack. Can a creative concept be an objective wrong? Provided especially that it fulfills all requirements for the competitive program, no. But can it prove a disappointment, especially when applied to those teams with genuine musical ability? For this writer, yes.