Dance Review : ‘Kaleidoscope’ Proves Artistry More Telling Than Ethnicity

Sometimes bad art can be very useful. Case in point: the annual “Dance Kaleidoscope” local showcase series, which opened Friday at Cal State Los Angeles with a decidedly uneven three-hour modern-dance program dominated by so-called minority perspectives.

Besides supplying a preview of the pan-cultural Los Angeles just around the corner, this programming emphasis undermined several entrenched assumptions. Frequently, when outsiders confront art from the black, Latino or gay community (to use examples that “Kaleidoscope” provided), there’s an intimidation factor: a feeling that applause is a statement of affirmative action and lack of approval an admission of prejudice.

Pile up this kind of work, however, and the confusion decreases: Looking at choreographies by Lula Washington and Nia Love, for instance, one can quickly get beyond any knee-jerk response to the issue of blackness and consider their vastly different levels of coherence, integrity and dancing skill. Multicultural identity still matters, but artistry matters more.

On Friday, Washington’s company (Los Angeles Contemporary Dance Theatre) delivered a technically shaky performance of her recently reviewed “A Duke for the ‘90s,” a clumsy and derivative pop charade that briefly detoured into deep thematic waters (the worship and destruction of young men) before flailing into the shallows again.

Just as theatrically flamboyant, Love’s solo (“Ye Who Seeks Balance in the Midst of Chaos Shall Rise to a Warrior’s Stance”) found her initially veiled and then all-but-nude as she depicted the plight of the Baka people in a series of brief gestural episodes.

Like Washington, Love contrasted linear modern dance and a more Afrocentric vocabulary--but her superb control proved less remarkable than an expressive range that encompassed everything from delicate, fanciful hand-play to powerful side-jumps and the full-out ferocity of her finale. A major artist.

Antony Balcena’s “Shell of Flesh” and Steven Craig’s “Limb” each offered insights about homosexual experience. But Balcena’s solo concentrated its emotion in a long monologue about his friends’ AIDS-related deaths; the dance itself proved a weak afterthought, overwhelmed by its subject and the preceding testimony.

Craig’s duet, however, developed out of potent gestural motifs and sequencing patterns, evolving into both an intense portrait of a relationship and an effective showpiece for Craig and James Kelly. Originally choreographed by Craig and Sarah Pogostin, the work now centers on the breakdown of Craig’s icy machismo--though, interestingly, Kelly’s sweetness toughens up through the interaction, too.

Another of Rene Olivas Gubernick’s arbitrary and sanctimonious media collages, “Rito Urbano,” assembled stereotypes of Latino culture as if mindless juxtaposition were somehow an achievement. As always, his best ideas counted for nothing in the glut of effects. Indeed, the obvious, anti-capitalist Cal Worthington parody seemed to backfire, since the Worthington character’s motto, “I’ll do anything to sell you,” might well be Gubernick’s own artistic creed.

At the opposite extreme, Rose Polsky’s finely crafted character solo “Yellow Dress” showed what wonders development and modulation can accomplish when an artist understands the power of dancing. Polsky even dared walk away and leave her audience in the dark--aware of her absence--as the ultimate resolution of her subject’s struggle.

Among the evening’s lesser pleasures: Shel Wagner’s limber tomboyish solo “Buffalo Gal,” performed outdoors during intermission and layered over a game of musical chairs. Meri Bender’s “Chocolate Ice Cream” showed Elizabeth Ince chattering desperately while Don Bondi seemed to be moving in another dimension at the edges of her consciousness. A promising concept but increasingly flat and dutiful in performance.

Forcefully danced by members of 3’s Company, Nancy McCaleb’s recently reviewed environmental lament “No Shade” completed the program.

“Dance Kaleidoscope” resumes Friday through Sunday afternoon with pieces by other choreographers and companies.