‘Still’ a Problem

A year ago, choreographer Bill T. Jones’ “Still/Here” had its Los Angeles premiere in a swirl of controversy. Prominent dance critic Arlene Croce had refused to review the piece in New York, calling it “victim art” and asserting that Jones’ incorporation of videotaped interviews with AIDS and terminally ill cancer patients had put him and the piece “beyond the reach of criticism.”

The issue flared into polemics, and positions rigidified.

Croce, who until then had been regarded as one of the most brilliant and influential dance critics in America, suddenly became the proverbial skunk that crashed the garden party. Even her politics came under scrutiny and attack.

Major artists and critics--and audiences--rallied to Jones’ support. Unfortunately, Jones then upped the ante by making, then retracting--though without utterly disavowing--an anti-Semitic remark about Jews controlling the media. The high-minded press let the comment pass, except for one critic who proved it ridiculous simply by counting the number of Jewish dance critics in the United States. (Croce is an Italian Roman Catholic.)

A year later, Croce’s points remain worth arguing, but their hot topicality has cooled. Seen Tuesday at the Irvine Barclay Theatre, “Still/Here” looked febrile, fitful, arbitrary and empty, rather than powerful or profound in movement invention and meaning, especially judged against Jones’ previous works.

“Still/Here” grew out of workshops that Jones conducted across the country in 1994 for patients with life-threatening illnesses. The subject is close to Jones: He lost his longtime lover and partner, Arnie Zane, to AIDS in 1988 and has been public about his own HIV-positive status, diagnosed in 1985.

The work falls into two parts. The first opens with the dancers naming a long list of the afflicted, giving each a verbal and movement epithet. Gradually, videotaped interviews of workshop participants are projected on large screens that fly down from the ceiling or slide in from the sides of the stage.

The dancers, dressed in white, run, jump, link arms, support one another, form and reform groups and tableaux. Emphasis is on the static, the still, although individual sections can become frenetic (as in the “Her Eyes” aria). Part Two, with the dancers in red, proves more nonstop.

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Even so, Gretchen Bender’s video imagery dominates the proceedings emotionally. A single image--a stocky woman holding her arms out--brings us closer to tears than a whole half-hour of busy activity by the dancers on stage.

One especially resents any electronic manipulation of the workshop participants, either of their images or of their recorded voices. The manipulation depersonalizes these people. When we hear their voices only, without any visual links to the speakers, they become particularly and cruelly disembodied.

This must be the exact opposite of what Jones intends. But it happens, and it divides the experience into the real and the stagy.

The Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company remains strong and physically diverse, though there have been personnel changes. Five of the 10 dancers in Orange County did not appear last year in Los Angeles.

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Lelani Barrett now delivers the important “Denial” monologue, written and previously performed by Lawrence Goldhuber, who is on company leave. Barrett spoke the lines and acted the movements conscientiously Tuesday but not as seamlessly or effortlessly as had his predecessor.

The other new faces are Alexandra Beller, Mark Davis, Keith Johnson and Marc Mann. L.A. alumni include Josie Coyoc, Rosalynde LeBlanc, Odile Reine-Adelaide and Maya Saffrin.

The music is taped. Kenneth Frazelle composed for Part One, “Still,” which is sung by Odetta and played by the Lark String Quartet and percussionist Bill Finizio. Vernon Reid wrote the music for Part Two, “Here.”

* The Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company repeats “Still/Here” Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m. at the Irvine Barclay Theatre, 4242 Campus Drive. $15-$30. (714) 854-4646.