Never, before speaking in depth with Pearlann Porter, would I have called her work “jazz dance.” The style brings to mind cheeky grins, soaring split leaps, rapid turns, and larger than life performance quality. Sure, I remember the easygoing swing of Gene Kelly, but that image has been replaced by the gymnastic flair of “So You Think You Can Dance,” where if you can’t do a backflip you most certainly cannot compete with the most talented twenty dancers in the country.
It wasn’t until reading a Facebook post by Porter that I understood how this talented and cerebral choreographer (or “conductor” as she would call herself) defined jazz dance.
The post read: “The structure of jazz may be composed note for note in advance, partially or even completely, but it is the complete freedom of choice in the moment that liberates any binding to anything that is not an honest expression of the present. That - for me - is jazz.”
After a long lunch where I picked her brain, and in light of The Pillow Project’s “Second Saturday” gatherings throughout the summer, I believe I finally understand what is going on here. Porter has redefined the definition of jazz dance for herself and her company.
The word “jazz” is considered a verb to Porter. Her dancers don’t perform “jazz” movement. Rather, they describe themselves as “jazzing” the music with their bodies. It’s simple, really. The Pillow Project uses the authenticity of improvisation in the same way a jazz musician would.
Porter says, “I wanted to do something completely different with the idea of jazz. Jazz used to be gutsy and raw...the emotion, the story, the feeling conveyed in the body...freedom of movement without constraint.”
She goes on, “Jazz has become so surface, superficial. What is jazz nowadays? Really commercialized. Short little bursts, pleasing everyone’s instant gratification...on the level of Cirque du Soleil - it has to be smashing.”
Porter has done smashing. She grew up dancing tap and jazz with kids who eventually performed on Broadway. She went on to study at Point Park where technicians with incredible facility work on the perfection of their skill. Nothing wrong with that, Porter insists, but it bored her. Not only does she say that she wasn’t flexible enough or born with a body for it, but it didn’t fulfill her artistically either.
She talks about having the opportunity to see the famed Martha Graham Company yet feeling unfulfilled by it. “I remember being impressed at the dancers but not really interested. I wanted something else. I had already seen the perfect modern dance body articulation. I wanted to see something said through dance, but not in a dramatic way.”
The Pillow Project’s “Second Saturdays” is an open house of sorts that runs through the summer on the first Saturday of each month, usually 8:00 p.m. “until we’re done.” This past weekend, musicians PJ Roduta and Charles Hall played live percussion while company members “jazzed” the music in moments of improvisation. Visual artist, Jordan Bush, spontaneously created drawings throughout the evening on the chalkboard walls. And after dark, the company presented a “choreographed” work, “A Pale Blue Jazz.” A peacefully smiling Porter shifted through the space with an obvious and profound satisfaction.
Her entire space gives the feeling of truth that she seeks from her dancers. There is no push for the obvious, nothing screaming out, “Look at us! We are DANCERS!” Couches, chairs, tables, knick knacks, chalk, lamps, and art surround the empty wood floor. Dancers interact as themselves while they aren’t performing. Audience members meander, chit chat, drink and relax without the restraint of a velvety seat in a dark auditorium, elbows vying for the arm rest.
Out of a conversation with her dancers that began with a simple question - “What if we stop worrying about the movement and put our emphasis on the motion to tell the music?” - the “switch” happened. Porter and her dancers stayed up until the wee hours of the mornings using a system of “dots, dashes and morphs,” and let go of everything they’d learned to try and show what was underneath. “Their entire bodies became living, breathing, organic instruments that just learned to play themselves.”
Porter explains their process as a refined version of the childhood dance studio game, “freeze dance,” where music is played and kids move to their liking until the music stops and they become still. “Every little kid below the age of five wants to dance. They don’t think twice about it. They go for it. They don’t question it.”
Jazzing the music happens only with the genuine sensitivity and exuberance of a child. Bringing that to life as adults sounds positively glorious to me.
Check out what The Pillow Project is up to HERE.
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