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  1. when

    In the film ”when” Ottar Ormstad is transferring his practice as concrete poet to the realm of a programmable networked space, blending his poetry with specially composed modern music with electronic elements. His b/w photographs developed in the darkroom are presented in combination with words in different languages, some of them exceeded into ”letter-carpets”. Some sentences are from well known songs or films, other letter-combinations are invented by the author.

    The film is telling a story about life and death, basically from the standpoint of cars, rotten in a field in Sweden. The narrative is very open, and each viewer may experience the film very differently. This is also dependent upon the language background, any translation is – intentionally – not given.

    when has been screened at festivals for experimental short film, so far in France, Romania, Russia and Norway.

    Ottar Ormstad - 24.07.2012 - 23:55

  2. NONCE.EXECUTOR (disposable language)

    Nonce.Executor is a video poem.

    Talan Memmott - 22.10.2012 - 00:37

  3. Disposable Language

    This performance is based on Memmott’s video poem “NONCE.EXECUTOR” a poem that juxtaposes words with phrases and images that somehow define or describe them. The dancers are positioned between the screen and a disheveled blonde doll sitting on the front of the stage with a spotlight shining on it. The dancers’ movements are very doll-like, making stiff movements that emphasize their joints and how they bend and rotate on dolls. Are the dancers an explanation or description of the doll?

    Choreography: Ashley Peters
    Poetry: Talan Memmott (“NONCE.EXECUTOR”)
    Dancers: Samantha Crosby, Danielle Delong, Julie Marazzo, Kristina Merrill, Shannon Moore, Megan Rutkowski, Holli Simme, Julia Tomanovich, Emily Wilhelm

    (Source: Leonardo Flores, I ♥ E-Poetry)

    Hannelen Leirvåg - 28.04.2013 - 17:24

  4. Expansive Mayhem

    The interpretive dance performance seeks to evoke the experience of a concussion and does so by clustering six dancers on a side of the stage using red lighting to suggest a sense of the inside of the speaker’s head. When the dancers are clustered, swaying semi-coherently, they evoke the sense of a brain function normally, but as the piece progresses it begins to unravel, as the dancers spiral out of control. Their disjointed movements as they each dance on their own, spread around the stage mimics the cognitive impact of a concussion, echoed by the language hovering over them. The dance performance concludes by returning to normal function, urgently, as one of the dancers runs around the reorganized collective, as if trying to hold them together by sheer force of will as the screen and stage fade to black, leading us to wonder. Has the brain been healed? Has normal language function returned?

    “Expansive Mayhem”
    Choreography: Julia Tedesco and Ellie Sanna
    Poetry: Loss Pequeño Glazier (“Io Sono At Swoons “)
    Music: Jai Uttal and Ben Leinbach
    Dancers: Melissa Hunt, Marika Matsuzak, Stephanie Ohman, Sammi Pfieffer, Samantha Will, Jessica Viglianco

    Hannelen Leirvåg - 28.04.2013 - 18:38

  5. Etymon / Encarnación

    The opening performance in “Language to Cover a Wall” is about the word made flesh: Glazier reads his poem “Etymon / Encarnación” while a young woman dances to the rhythms of his voice. The words juxtaposed in the title both gesture towards primeval origins of language: etymon refers to the origins of words, while encarnación is about the immaterial gaining a body. And we can’t help but notice the bodies on stage: Glazier sitting in a chair, reading his poem engrossed in the words on the page, gently swaying like José Feliciano. The contrast of a young female dancer in a white dress, interpreting lines of sounded breath with her body, bending her articulations with an agility matched only by the poet’s vocal articulation of the poem.

    Poetry: Loss Pequeño Glazier (“Etymon / Encarnación”)
    Dancer: Sarah Burns

    (Source: Leonardo Flores, I ♥ E-Poetry)

    Hannelen Leirvåg - 03.05.2013 - 16:58

  6. The World As Yours

    This performance is about circularity: counterclockwise rotation of letters and words around a central axis on screen, dancers enacting different kinds of spins and gyrating movements focused around a globe. Each concentric line rotates at different speeds, aligning the letters from different lines to generate intriguing combinations. As the performance progresses, the word rotation gradually speeds up until the words become a rapid stream, suggesting an acceleration of time. The dancer’s movements speed up as well, as their playful interactions with the globe become increasingly frantic yet gentle, much like the music by The Kronos Quartet.

    Choreography: Kerry Ring
    Poetry: Loss Pequeño Glazier
    Music: “White Man Sleeps” composed by Kevin Volans,
    Performed by The Kronos Quartet
    Dancers: Julia Tedesco, Ellie Sanna, Meghan Starnes

    (Source: Leonardo Flores, I ♥ E-Poetry)

    Hannelen Leirvåg - 03.05.2013 - 17:09

  7. Do Not Forget It

    This performance of Alferi’s 2002 cinépoème “Ne l’oublié pas” arranges three lines of poetry that change at different rates (the last one doesn’t change) to create different phrase combinations that lead to the same conclusion. The result appears to be combinatorial, but because the medium is video, there is actually an unvarying sequence, so it evokes how a multiplicity of experiences and rapid sensory information enters the frail storage medium that is memory.

    The dancers move in ways that evoke the process of creating memories and attempting to keep them. Their dance leads to poses and pauses, some of which contain reminders of where thoughts are stored. The use of a lead dancer is an important strategy in the performance underscores an intuition to be found in Alferi’s video poem: that variation is memorable. Note how with her distinct costume and dance, framed by the other dancers moving in recurring poses, the lead dancer captures and commands attention, pulling together the fragmented performances into a coherent experience.

    Hannelen Leirvåg - 03.05.2013 - 17:16

  8. Bindings

    This powerfully expressive nonverbal poem builds on the title, with the dancers’ actions and movements in front of a video produced by Jhave. The first meaning of bindings is clear as the dancers come on stage boung by strips of fabric or are bound by other dancers. This act is portrayed in different ways— forcefully, gently, voluntarily, but never cruelly— yet the soft materials seem very effective in handicapping the dancers, who continue to dance oddly, as if exploring their new bodily conditions. As the piece progresses they are all freed, yet this seems to bring no solace to their bodies, which continue moving awkwardly.

    Choreography: Brianna Jahn
    Poetry: Jhave
    Dancers: Kate Kenyon, Ashley Peters, Holli Simme, Samantha Will

    (Source: Leonardo Flores, I ♥ E-Poetry)

    Hannelen Leirvåg - 03.05.2013 - 17:21

  9. Rhythmus 21

    This nonverbal piece juxtaposes a single dancer with Hans Richter’s 1921 Dada film. In this film white, black, and grey rectangles move in and out of the screen, shrinking, growing, and changing shapes. The dancer’s movement cast shadows upon this surface as she spins, poses, reaches out with her arms and legs in ways that make me wonder whether she is interpreting letters upon this stage and screen. Is she writing on these spaces? If so, her letters are not the static things we’re used to inscribing on a page or word processor. These are letters that feel at home on a time-based medium, such as the stage and this film by Richter. And in good Dada tradition, they are freed from meaning.

    Choreography: Shelley Hain
    Film: Hans Richter (1921)
    Music: Sue Harshe
    Dancer: Danielle Delong

    (Source: Leonardo Flores, I ♥ E-Poetry)

    Hannelen Leirvåg - 03.05.2013 - 17:30

  10. Signal Box

    This piece is performed to the beat of a metronome playing at 100 BPM (beats per minute), the fast end of the andante tempo. That allows for Hatcher to read his poem “Control Relay Logic” one word at a time, adjusting the duration of each word to fit the space between beats, as is customary in rap music. This externalized rhythm for the poem makes the spoken word strange, but also musical, allowing Hatcher to repeat words beyond what he might pull off with a traditional reading. The dancers’ movements are also timed to that beat, making their synchronized movements somewhat mechanical. Their repetitive motions are also appropriate in this context, making them seem like logic gates, electronic switches, parts of a machine that is processing information in an orderly fashion.

    “Signal Box”
    Choreography: Hayley Sunshine
    Poetry: Ian Hatcher (“Control Relay Logic”)
    Dancers: Kara Hodges, Brianna Jahn, Ashlee Lodico, Marika Matsuzak, Megan Starnes

    (Source: Leonardo Flores, I ♥ E-Poetry)

    Hannelen Leirvåg - 03.05.2013 - 17:57

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