Dance in a Digital Age by Ana Harmon
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Google search “media influence on art” and you will primarily find articles on how Instagram has transformed the visual art market and how incredible it is that a smalltown girl in Idaho can virtually visit the Louvre. Few articles cover a question that I found hard to ignore over the past few days at Machol Shalem’s International Dance Week in Jerusalem: how does mass media and new technology influence our own creation processes and conceptions, specifically dance-making?
Israelis Dana Sapir and Rotem Viner Tchaikovsky buoyantly battled to a text titled “King Arthur,” about violence and Vikings; French MASH competition winner Thibaut Eiferman work “HHH” featured an interview by ‘punk poet laureate,’ Patti Smith; Austrian trio “BAUHAUS” saw a scantily clad woman rap with Atlanta, Georgia’s artist Future’s “Covered N Money” while kicking back in a kiddie pool; and Ronen Izhaki’s religious men’s troupe, Kaet, actually requested a woman’s phone from the audience mid-performance to capture a fairly insignificant moment. Many of these artists’ references and inspirations seem to be located far from their homes and traditions, I would argue, as a result of our increasingly accessible and compulsive lives online.
This creational behavior might be a result of artists’ unconscious understanding of today’s most valuable commodity: our attention. As daily digital users, we constantly jump from bit to bit, often traversing continents with a click. We are proud to find hidden gems located far from home, and often “share,” making them our own. Also, today, artistic creation is inherently subjected to being photographed and/or videoed, and the success of a work demands social media sharing. To achieve this result, artists might feel inclined to include ‘made-for-Instagram’ moments: layer upon layer of lighting, music, costume, and explosive props: keep your valuable eyes on us, they seem to be saying: follow us, snapchat us, story us somewhere.
I was unable to trace references for the two works which moved me most so far this week: “Work of Flesh—Soundtrack for Five Slammed Bodies” by Annabelle Dvir and “The Station,” by Ferenc Fehér. Neither of these works featured the best technicians, flashy switch kicks, or appropriated soundtracks; rather grounded bodies dug deeply into themselves. Impulses for movement seemed to be drawn from some elusive, internal place which I was glad to know I would never find in a Google search.
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