Danielle Georgiou Dance Group prepares for the premiere of its new evening-length dance-theatre work, NICE, at the Wyly Theatre as part of the AT&T Performing Arts Center’s Elevator Project.
Dallas — “I bet you thrift shop real well,” one dancer says as he walks past me in the small, intimate space on the sixth floor of the Dee and Charles Wyly Theatre in the Dallas Arts District Tuesday evening. Before I can react another dancer passes by pausing to look me up and down before stating, “Wow, you look so comfy in those clothes.” The performers’ overly sweet demeanor paired with Paul Slavens’ reminder to be nice in his Mr. Rogers voice takes the sting out of the back-handed compliment I just received, making me laugh instead.
Danielle Georgiou then has the group stop and run through the section again while the tech crew adjusts lighting cues, music volumes and mike stand placement. The 11 dancers that make upDanielle Georgiou Dance Group (DGDG) stand patiently on the outskirts of four ceiling-to-floor panels of white paper that add some dimension to the otherwise sparse room. This time around the dancers walking past comment on my striped top and an invisible audience member’s shoes. Meanwhile, Georgiou and her crew, including musician Slavens, conceptual artist Justin Locklear, set and lighting designer Lori Honeycutt, stage manager Liz Metelsky and light board operator Kayla Anderson quickly address any issues and give the Okay for the dancers to move on.
Georgiou’s new work NICE, running Nov. 13-23 as part of the AT&T Performing Arts Center’s new Elevator Project, toes the line on what individuals and society consider to be nice behavior through the use of etiquette verbiage, poignant movement choices and audience participation. (Read more about the Elevator Project in our story here.)
The work is divided into various situations (i.e. the wild girl scene, mob scene and debutante ball) depicting what society deems nice behavior with respect to women. Georgiou cleverly blends traditions and stereotypes such as coming out parties and 1950s’ housewives etiquette with today’s more loose manners to produce an effect that is both disturbing and amusing. In between these sections the performers take turns reading from an etiquette book or reciting lines while executing purpose-driven movement reflecting their words. This includes jerky gestures and sequential whole body movement that parallels the ebb and flow of the speaker’s voice. For example, one performer chooses to sing his lines while another recites his in a British accent.
Georgiou, who writes a monthly column for TheaterJones, also uses traditional dances like the waltz and polka to depict a time when women were cherished and protected. The four couples glide around the space with ease and end in tender embraces. The other side of this coin is addressed when two female dancers enter in their bras and underwear and begin flinging their bodies onto the ground and frantically try to escape the arms of their male keepers to no avail. The darker scenes involve the men whistling and catcalling at the ladies and the women yelling at the men to pay to attention to them. Georgiou’s movement choices in these parts are pretty risqué, but have been crafted to serve a purpose and therefore come across more edgy. The men roving their hands down the whole length of their female counterpart, basically demeaning the female body, would have lost some of its meaning if done in overabundance. What makes Georgiou’s work so collective is her ability to edit herself and therefore push her audience to its limits without turning them away.
This preview was originally published on TheaterJones.com.