Bringing elegance bacK
by Theodore Bale

David Parker and The Bang Group
choreography by David Parker
at Summer Stages Dance, Concord, Massachusetts, July 13

Those who saw David Parker’s legendary “Bang and Suck” years ago in Boston already know that the openly gay choreographer has no problem delivering provocative, sexy work illuminated by a sharp mind and vivid sense of humor. What they might not know is that Parker has been steadily developing his idiosyncratic dances. Presently in residence at Summer Stages Dance in Concord, The Bang Group presented an evening of startling, elegant work.
Over the past three decades, important artistic developments in dance have been closely associated with gay choreographers working from a distinctly gay sensibility. Mark Morris built an entirely new audience for dance with his highly musical, gender-free approach to movement. Bill T. Jones and Arnie Zane used material from their love life as a way to generate steps; together they spawned a younger generation of choreographers, several of
them gay, who now have their own companies. Parker grew up in Lynnfield, Massachusetts, studying ballet and tap in Boston as a teenager. The fresh-thinking choreographer has equally brilliant parents. His father, Robert B. Parker, is renowned for his prolific writing in the private eye genre, most notably the “Spenser For Hire” series that salutes the traditional style of the detective novel in a singular, forward-looking way. His mother, Joan Parker, has combined forces with her husband (together they started the independent film company Pearl Productions) and is quite notable for her work in education and with charities. The fact that she survived breast cancer might be one reason that her son is also a founding member of the Pink Ribbons Project, Dancers in Motion Against Breast Cancer.

Parker has been choreographing for 10 years and his work continues to be unique. In his dances one doesn’t find rainbow flags, pink triangles, or any of the Reagan-and-Bush-era anger often associated with the work of lesser gay choreographers. He has definitely moved past the issue of “Pride” as a theme; gay sensibility has been poeticized and gay sexual situations are a given in his dances. How fortunate for us that Parker is not afraid to show two men in a lengthy and erotic duet, their mouths locked in a burning open-mouthed kiss for minutes at a time. At Thursday’s performance we watched him tickle and torment dancer Jeffrey Kazin’s crotch and buttocks with a pink satin toe-shoe (which Parker was wearing on his foot). As Kazin bears a striking resemblance to the young Montgomery Clift, the effect was
more than titillating, drawing anxious chuckles from the mixed audience.

Teasing feet
This peculiar opening work, “On the Tip of my Tongue,” shows that Parker is not only a choreographer, but a composer and inventor as well. Performed by Parker, Kazin, and the charismatic Kathryn Tufano, the piece opens with all three on their backs, their faces and torsos covered by long white tutus paired with white boxer shorts. Like Alwin Nikolais, Parker often shows the dancer’s body as an abstract sculptural entity, with certain features obscured or altered by costumes, props, or lighting. The audience saw initially only six legs, capped with satin pointe shoes, moving in and out of lyrical phrases. A mysterious organ music emanated from the dancers. When they finally stood upright, they were wearing black vests and red neckties above their tutus, like androgynous waiters. Each was sucking on a harmonica. Thus, the music for the dance was provided by their breathing through the instruments and the heavy pounding of pointe shoes on the stage (Parker prefers that his dancers make noise with their shoes). They often tangled themselves together in a kind of toe-tapping “clusterfuck” that resembled a large praying mantis.

Much has been made of the humor of The Bang Group. While each dance has its hilarious moments, there is often an underlying poignancy that can be quite insightful if not disturbing. The solo “Half Full” showed the choreographer in a shimmering black cocktail dress, rhinestone earrings, black ankle-straps, and bright red lipstick (Parker refrained from descending into camp by including a cheap wig), holding a glass of white wine. He created rhythmic sentences with his feet, reminiscent of flamenco dancing, while simultaneously running his finger along the edge of his glass to create a drone. Taking a sip occasionally, Parker thus altered the tone of the droning, and the dance became not only an abstract musical event, but a psychological exploration of the character’s obsession (and satiation) with the wine.

Watching it, I remembered a dance I had seen some years ago by Robert Wilson for the Martha Graham Company, entitled “Snow on the Mesa.” Wilson contemplated Graham’s alleged alcoholism in a long solo called “A room with too many things in it.” The set featured only a large martini glass on the floor. Approaching the glass in painstakingly slow motion, the soloist raised her hands and eyebrows but never actually touched the martini. Parker is not so Apollonian; after circling the glass with a feverish twisting flamenco, he was down on all fours slurping wine from the goblet like a thirsty dog. The latter part of this fascinating solo examines the contours and rhythms of the drunken body. Parker stumbled and fell off his high
heels, then walked upstage slowly waving his right index finger in the air, as if to hail a cab home. The solo displays a depth of characterization rarely seen on the dance stage, and laughter at the beginning of the piece transformed into respectful awe at its conclusion.

Using Hollywood
During a pause, Parker explained to the audience that he has great admiration for the dancing that was created in America between 1930 and the early 1950s. This was a time when Balanchine’s ballets were becoming increasingly sophisticated, the classic modern dance of Graham and Humphrey was flourishing, and Hollywood movie musicals epitomized the elegance and flair of social life. In a subtle way, this admiration is an aspect of Parker’s gay sensibility. And while he felt he never had “the right,” his new works use music from Hollywood during the period that preceded him (Parker was born in 1959).

This development within The Bang Group represents a return to integrity (i.e., a lack of commercial concerns) and elegance that has been missing from modern dance in recent years. Both “Tender Traps” and “Low Browse” incorporate recordings from movie musicals, spoken interviews with film stars, as well as “raw sessions” unintended for public performance. Kazin and Tufano give a roughhouse portrayal of an unlikely pair of beachgoers in “Tender Trap.” Their dynamic is that of a repressed “fag hag” married to a closeted gay man; neither is finding any satisfaction in the sexual tension of the relationship but they’re trying to make it work anyway. They throw each other around the stage with increasing intricacy while Doris Day tries to glide through an impossible arrangement of “Ready, Willing and Able.” At one point in the recording Doris just stops singing and says in frustration,
“...so I stay in tempo but I don’t know the words!” and the combined effect of soundtrack, choreography, and costumes truly embodies the desperation of the tormented lovers.

“Low Browse” shows Parker moving delightfully into further abstraction. While he retains some of his signature movements, such as holding a silly skirt out and running around on tip-toe, or his inspired deconstructions of tap dancing, what is more important is his approach to phrasing in the presence of a recorded score. Separated from his method of self-produced percussion accompaniment, his new choreography demonstrates an elegance and a sustainable spaciousness. A successful section that touchingly explores snippets of Rachmaninoff is just a hint of some of the exquisite dances yet to come from The Bang Group.
—Theodore Bale
Bay Windows
July 20-26, 2000