Amy O'Neal:
On joyful artistic journey
Joyful.
That’s the word a friend used to describe Amy O’Neal’s newest evening-length performance Again, There Is No Other (The Remix). The piece premiered March 26-28 at Seattle’s On The Boards (OtB), which commissioned it.
Featuring five dancers, including O’Neal plus Annie Franklin, Nia-Amina Minor, Randi “Rascal” Freitas, and Tracey Wong, Again, There Is No Other seamlessly blends aspects of street and house dance styles with contemporary concert dance, beautiful video art by Meena Murugesan, plus WD4D’s soundtrack, to create an hour-long performance that’s not only joyous, but also technically challenging, masterful and, most of all, loving.
O’Neal’s work is not only all of the above, but it’s also the result of years of exploration into how and where different dance styles can merge, and how gender fits in. Longtime Seattleites may remember an earlier work O’Neal made at OtB, Opposing Forces, that featured a cast of five male-identified hip-hop artists. The work was first performed more than a decade ago, although O’Neal continued to refine it. Opposing Forces is still available through OntheBoards.tv, and a recording of Again, There Is No Other will join it there within the next year.
O’Neal’s new work, Again, There Is No Other, began with an open dance party featuring anybody who wanted to join in (somewhat intimidating for those of us with creaky joints). This crowd gradually filtered off the floor to their seats, and the five performers moved in a slow-motion unit diagonally across the stage space, dressed in loose pants, socks or sneakers, and grayish shirts.
One by one the women showed the audience their unique movement styles. Tracey Wong and “Rascal” Freitas displayed their hip-hop and B-girl best. Nia-Amina Minor may be better known to local contemporary dance audiences than to street and house dance aficionados, but she’s definite proof that dancers shouldn’t be segregated by genre. Annie Franklin is adept at every move her body attempts. And Amy O’Neal? She’s proven that her long experience melding her contemporary dance background with colloquial Black American dance has given audiences a look at dance some of us haven’t quite experienced before.
O’Neal’s all-femme cast brings a new insight to the notion of a “battle.” A traditional crew, as we experienced in Opposing Forces, might compete to beat another dance team. They form into a circle for their cypher and one by one dance their solos. Their movements are often astounding, but there is a bit of a sense of “take that.”
In Again, There Is No Other, the dancers circle up to take their turns in the spotlight, but what I witnessed was less “battle” and more lovefest. Each dancer took a turn, but it felt less like a competition and more of a collaboration. I’m definitely not an expert on hip-hop, but as a woman, I recognized less competition and more celebration of each other’s talents.
Amy O’Neal and her fellow artists have given us the gift of a theater filled with joy and possibility, of skilled artisans who execute their crafts so well that it’s almost impossible to separate O’Neal’s choreography from spontaneous improvisation. Again, There Is No Other reminded me of the possibility that, as the human race, we don’t need to adhere to arbitrary divisions of gender, race, dance styles, you name them.
When I think about artists who’ve had profound influences on me both as an audience member and an arts writer, the list is long, but dancer, choreographer and teacher Amy O’Neal sits right at the top.
Not long after she debuted Opposing Forces, I sat down to talk with her and Brysen Angeles of Massive Monkees, one of the cast members. I was thinking about dancers and the so-called “zone.” We often associate that term with competitive athletes who run or ski or whatever without conscious effort. They are humming in sync with the universe itself.
To me, this state of being is akin to being in a spiritual state of grace, where you feel as one with something larger than yourself. Angeles told me he doesn’t get into a dance battle thinking he’s going to “grace out” his competitors, but I remember he admitted to me that, at times, he has transcended his body, melding with the music to another level of consciousness.
I know that sounds pretty woo-woo, but as an audience member, I sometimes attain a state of grace as well. It’s what I search for, and I credit Amy O’Neal for opening my eyes to a new way of thinking and seeing dance. Her new work Again, There Is No Other (The Remix) reminded me why I love live performance so much. Yes, it’s beautiful, but it’s also a portal to what I define as the divine.
It has been O’Neal’s quest to forge a new dance language that melds worlds, examines gender stereotypes and pushes audiences to think about how art both shapes and responds to the world around it. She’s my launchpad to a personal journey towards joy.