In Greek mythology Sisyphus or Sisyphos (/ˈsɪsɪfəs/; Greek: Σίσυφος, Sísuphos) was the king of
Ephyra (now known as Corinth). He was punished for his self-aggrandizing
craftiness and deceitfulness by being forced to roll an immense boulder up a
hill only for it to roll down when it nears the top, repeating this action for
eternity. Through the classical influence on modern culture, tasks that are
both laborious and futile are therefore described as Sisyphean (/ˌsɪsɪˈfiːən/).
There is that expression “over the top” which sometimes
means that a peak has been reached and from that point it is all downhill.
On Friday I went to the Vancouver Dance Centre with my friend Ian
Bateson to watch a special presentation
of excerpts of Karen Jamieson’s 1983 Sisyphus (I saw it in 2008). Jamieson’s idea is to look back and try to understand how a
choreographic work came to be, how it has developed through the years and to
figure out its relevance 35 years later. She assembled a trio of dancers, Josh Martin, Justine Chambers and Natalie Lefebre-Gnam. Of the latter I distinctly
remember going to a Vancouver Opera performance of The Magic Flute that had a
First Nations theme. I don’t know why I know but I do remember that Lefebre-Gnam
was pregnant when she danced in that production.
From Left with Serge Bennathan centre- Michelle Rhode - Anne Cooper (kissing) and Donald Sales |
While watching the excerpts, all explained in most
philosophic terms by Jamieson, I realized that there were four other
choreographers present, Serge Bennathan, Jay Hirabayashi, Barbara Bourget and
Jennifer Mascall. I added to that list Jamieson and realized that these were five
choreographers who were of a generation that began in the mid-70s and became
prominent in the mid-80s. That all three were there and the fact that Jamieson
is only three years younger than I am (and she did dance on Friday!) tells you
that these individuals have not peaked and surely have the best work ahead of
them. I feel that I could perhaps add myself to that august company as I came
into my photography with an element of success in the mid-80s and I believe
that unlike Sisyphus I have not yet reach the top of the hill with that heavy
rock.
Jay Hirabayashi & Barbara Bourget |
Some might believe that Jamieson is thinking about her
legacy by returning to her previous works. For me legacy is a bad word. Legacy
is a park bench with your name on it in Cate’s Park.
There is that marvellous statement by el Viejo Viscacha in Argentina’s El Martín Fierro where the old man says, “El diablo sabe por diablo, Pero más sabe por viejo,” which translates to, “The devil knows because he is the devil, but he knows more because he is an old man.”
Thus these choreographers-of-a-certain age have experience
going for them. Some don’t need to dance anymore. Some still do (in spite of the pain) as
Jamieson does.
“You may not teach an old dog new tricks, but “old”
choreographers can certainly teach us their new tricks”
In the photo of Karen Jamieson (who is noted for have created many works based on First Nations) she posed for me (a Polaroid
it was) with Byron Chief-Moon. Chief-Moon is my favourite Canadian (although he
was born in California) dancer and choreographer. Somehow he has been able to
blend First Nations dance with modern dance and this results in a dance form
that for me has no parallel. That Art Bergmann and Byron Chief-Moon are not
world famous is my proof that God does not exist.