©2000 by David Lipfert
Attitude, Fall 2000La MaMa hosted separate performances of New York premieres by Laz Brezer and Kei Takei on two consecutive June weekends at the spacious Annex theater. Both artists were appearing after absences of several years, and it was a good opportunity to reacquaint New York audiences with their special gifts. Brezer’s program covered four varied "paths" (excerpts) from his 100 Ways, a series begun in 1998. "Invocation" had Brezer entering very slowly in a ritual walk as he repeated a series of centripetal motions with his arms. Since most of the time he was facing away from the audience, his actions created a certain mystery. "My Friend" was a homage to the recently deceased set designer for Moving Earth company, Tetsuo Maeda. Although Brezer credited Maeda with the concept of contrasting soloist against a corps, the piece was expanded to include video sequences representing the four natural elements. Ykio Tsuji’s score established a balance between a live ensemble concealed behind a curtain and taped segments of electronic and ambient sounds. The corps of eight in black produced some interesting wave-like surges of motion, but theirs was a mostly decorative role apart from a few humorous moments of miming chain smoking at the rear of the playing area. A hospital scene most probably evoked Brezer’s last encounters with his friend. The most prominent scenic elements were eight plain white banners designed by Mariko Namikawa that unrolled from a complex mechanism in the flies. At the end these switched into black to mark Maeda’s death; they then were retracted to make for a surreal ending. Costumed in the white suit, Brezer alternated between the role of observer and showing Maeda’s relationship with his wife in a kind of third-person narrative. Brezer amply demonstrated his gift for detached exposition that at least on the surface appears to abstain from emotional content. The choice of a corps that was all female apart from the always-interesting Federico Restrepo made for a dispassionate approach to the theme where one missed a feeling of solidarity that a male contingent would have implied.
Two brief videos by Masahiko Kurashima bracketed an untitled and uncredited solo for Brezer that was originally set by his mentor Daniel Nagrin. Six Chopin preludes in alternating fast-slow tempo lightened the prevailing mood, but here also Brezer did not acknowledge the emotional implications of this most Romantic of composers. Intersecting swaths of light seconded the path imagery of the program. In "Rope", to a scenario by Keiichi Nishida, Brezer addressed the psychological dimensions of his inescapable bond with his own creative spirit. Represented both physically and via pulling motions, the rope was a constant partner through lean times (a ragged brown suit) and moments of obsession (a white straightjacket). Unfortunately, Nishida’s sound collage included long stretches of tedious water noises that detracted from this final piece in Brezer’s striking show.
A week later, Kei Takei demonstrated why she was the leader of the minimalist dance movement in New York over three decades ago. About forty minutes in length, The Absence of Izanagi (Time Diary) was as unforgettable as any of her solos have been. The theme was Takei’s take on the Japanese myth concerning a woman lacking a male partner, the whole becoming a surrogate for our fractured contemporary society. Like the enigmatic quotes Martha Graham joined to her dances, this myth was but a catalyst for Takei’s creativity. In nearly complete darkness Takei ran in place, panted and then began to swing her arms vigorously. Then increased lighting revealed two posts marking the entrance to a rounded area drawn in chalk on the Annex floor (design by Akio Hayashi). This seemed to be a sheltering but still primitive space where her struggle continued unabated now in contact with the ground. Excellent side illumination by Ranko Ohnishi kept Takei’s face in darkness while highlighting her nervous movements. Surges of energy made for a variety in her struggle–a modernist "Dying Swan" minus the pitiful end. After cautiously exiting this artificial space, she returned to smudge the chalk boundary in an action at once triumphant and apprehensive. It was an intense piece, one that offered many interpretative possibilities. Somei Satoh’s companion minimalist solo piano score of isolated, unresolved chords added mystery while Takei’s costume of sleeveless white tunic over shortened pants had a timeless quality.