Chicago Tribune
November 6, 2004

Mordine program moves even when not going anywhere
By Lucia Mauro
Special to the Tribune

Individual expression in the midst of anonymous crowds seems to be the overriding theme of Mordine & Company Dance Theater's current concert. Its fall engagement, featuring choreography by artistic director Shirley Mordine, opened Thursday at the Dance Center of Columbia College, which Mordine founded 35 years ago. Yet the offerings in this dance/multimedia program also could be straightforward movement experiments not deeply entrenched in psychological exploration.
The singular voice idea emerges most prominently from her newest ensemble work, "ReSound," blending intense solo performance with sporadic, chorus-like ensemble integration, David Pavkovic's original otherworldly score, and dizzying video footage by John Boesche. A large piece for six company members and four guest artists, "ReSound" begins with Scott Putman's image on a TV screen telling live dancer Krenly Guzman that he won't be able to be part of the project. But, later, Putman appears in a soaring videotape in which Boesche follows his circular movements up close with a video camera to the point of inducing motion sickness.
Mordine favors the use of multiple disciplines, especially unconventional film and sound accompaniment. In "ReSound," however, the multimedia elements verge on the gratuitous even if she is subtly commenting on the information overload we experience via television. As a pure dance work without any surrounding gadgets, it has moments of piercing beauty.
A lean, controlled mover, Guzman can elastically isolate his body to mirror the ping-pong sounds of Pavkovic's score. He brings a featherweight grace and ardent focus to his dancing. Of the other highlighted soloists — who come forward as if telling their stories at a group-therapy session — Dardi McGinley Gallivan can express torment and defiance by merely shifting her weight or staring pointedly ahead.
Overall, Mordine's troupe performed solidly with conviction. Yet it was far from a rousing experience. With the dancers, composers, videographers, designers and the stage her collective petri dish, Mordine often becomes enraptured with the possibilities of performance — sometimes at the expense of fluid, meaningful pieces with a discernible viewpoint. Her "Jump Cuts," which premiered earlier this year, remains thematically jumbled. In it, the choreographer's disembodied voice directs her confused dancers to essentially create a dance. "Step into the light," she intones, or "Keep it simple."
It should be renamed "Six Dancers in Search of a Choreographer" in honor of Luigi Pirandello's famous play about artistic control. Inspired by film animation, "Jump Cuts" contains references to cartoons in Boesch's spliced projection design and in Lloyd Brodnax King's score. But this time around, the choreography feels less absurdist and less provocative.