Margie Gillis: Dancing to the Beat of Her Own Internal Drummer
by Theresa Herron

Also in this month: Paul Taylor

Margie Gillis creates to the beat of her own internal drummer, yet resonates the universal. With her performance of six solos this past March 19 at The Joyce Theater, her originality, unique sense of design and sensual passion were most apparent.

All works for this program were created in 1998 and 1999. In "Thrall," choreographed by Irene Dowd to music by Astor Piazzolla for string quartet and bandoneon, Gillis performed drastically varying dynamics from smooth continuous movement to sudden and sharp. The music possessed a tango-esque vibe, though no actual tango movements were employed. Many reaching gestures were juxtaposed with Martha Graham-style contractions and body curves. Dramatic nuances of facial expression, especially a crying gesture, were the strongest features in this work.

Gillis choreographed and performed all the remaining works on the bill. "Blue," set to music by Leonard Cohen and sung by Jennifer Warnes, presented Gillis in white T-shirt and dark overalls with one shoulder exposed, interacting with a lone chair in the spotlight. The bluesy lovesong recounted of the struggles and loneliness of an affair in a softly raspy, Joni Mitchell-ish voice. Gillis progressed on the chair from small, idiosyncratic, neurotic, staccato gestures--reflecting feelings of pain and insecurity about love--to luscious, sensual extensions of her neck and torso. Brief moments holding the suspended neck postures serenely and her expressive countenance conveyed so much weight of deep-felt passion.

In contrast, "George" captured a more lighthearted tone. George Gershwin's Lullaby 1919 was the stimulus for this work. In loose suit pants and jacket Gillis was reminiscent of Charlie Chaplin with her whimsical movements and humorous facial expressions. Her demeanor resembled that of a frolicsome, young British gent off on an afternoon's lark.

"Loon" was the most original work of the evening. Created to a montage of bird and rain sounds by Soundscape, Gillis shaped a creature with her long tight black dress, giant tresses of hair piled atop her head and hiding her face, and bared and articulated shoulder, torso and arm moves. It could've been a clumsy bird or crazy person as the title suggests or perhaps a kinetic work of abstract art. The mixed media of hair, dress and human body movement made this work sculpturesque and imaginative. Gillis' torso was quite stunning and powerful. She's also exquisite at enacting the concept of "less is more" -- the most minute pulsating of fingers or toes with perfect timing was potent.
In "Meditation" Gillis also employed hair and costume in designing the choreography. Her long braid and gigantic skirt carved and sliced through space to Duke Ellington's rhythms. Passionate breathing also punctuated various movements.

The final work, "Voyage," was a poetic metaphor for the struggle of an immigrant coming to the New World, particularly a French Canadian immigrant. (Gillis is from Montreal.) Music by Gilles Vigneault incorporated ocean noises, creaking boat sounds, French songs and babbling, and classical string instruments. Donned in an ankle-length black skirt, jacket and boots, Gillis looked like an early 20th century traveler. Her intermittently exposed nude chest and a bare leg highlighted the vulnerability of the immigrant. Moving as if gliding underwater, Gillis rolled, slid, carried, pulled, pushed, opened, searched, teetered and balanced with two suitcases. All images, simple but poignant, were beautifully rendered metaphors for the internal and external challenges encountered by leaving an old home far away and adjusting to a totally new environment.

Gillis refreshingly avoids trendiness that hinders many contemporary choreographers. In today's dance world, she seems most reminiscent of the sort of free spirit possessed by Isadora Duncan, though with a different style. Her show was a very moving, literally and figuratively, performance.

Photo credit: Annie Liebowitz

Chriselle Tidrick Archive: Alan Danielson, Doug Varone, Peridance

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