A homeless encampment, quinceañera court, and runaway car. Each makes up the DNA of Heidi Duckler Dance’s “Herald In, Examine Throughout” on May 18. The company is known for bringing dance to unconventional spaces. This time, the dancers took over Broadway Street, between W 11th and 12th Streets, using the Herald Examiner Building — a historical landmark erected in 1913 — as an entry point into the community of Downtown L.A.
In execution, “Herald In, Examine Throughout” practiced artistic cultural displacement, literally pushing out the diverse communities it sought to represent to present a show that — despite its best efforts — mocked the people who make up the city. The result: a sanitized work of art made for privileged white people to feel comfortable in proximity to the city’s marginalized populations.
Heidi Duckler Dance – “Herald In, Examine Throughout” – Roller skaters: Kelsey Guy and Keon Saghari – Photo by Jason Williams.
The show was immersive, leading small groups of audience members through seven locations on the street, inside the Proper Hotel, and atop a two-level parking structure. My group’s first location was at the center of the street for a duet on roller skates performed by Kelsey Guy and Keon Saghari. The piece was technically impressive and had beautiful, balletic movements layered atop skating grooves. Meanwhile, on the other side of the street looking over them was a quinceañera court cutout, artwork created by Jazmin Urrea. In the distance, a snippet of mariachi music played and was quickly drowned out by Jessie Cox’s sonic soundscape. The artistic elements were not synchronized and distracted from the other.
Heidi Duckler Dance – “Herald In, Examine Throughout” – Event Composer Jessie Cox – Photo by Jason Williams.
While Urrea’s work on its own was comical and culturally impactful, in the context of a dance performance primarily attended by white folks disengaged with the discourse the works foster, the pieces read as a controlled version of Latino culture — one that did not talk back and could be gawked at.
Meanwhile, I experienced the same thing. As one of the very few Latino audience members in a show that pulled from our culture, I found myself being gawked at and at one point, questioned if I knew where I was. While this feeling is nothing new to me as a dance reporter in a big city, the feeling was particularly salient for a show that aimed to humanize and represent people like me. The experience was a reminder of where I stood in the sociopolitical ladder of L.A. In a space that invited white audience members to examine Latinos and Latino culture as an anomaly on display, I quickly became part of the show. I reminded myself, after all, this is an immersive show.
Heidi Duckler Dance – “Herald In, Examine Throughout” – Dancers: Heidi Duckler and Keith Thompson (inside car) – Musician: Marta Tiesenga – Photo by Jason Williams.
The next location was in the Proper Hotel where Jobel Medina, Joey Navarrete-Medina, and Augustine Perez guided us through a quince. Mexican candy was scattered across the floor and Perez, dressed as the birthday girl, comically introduced the audience to his quinceañera. His movement was balletic, providing strong extensions of the legs and arms. Perez’s guidance through the open space enforced the environment of the quinceañera, making the audience feel supported while remaining in character. Joey and Jobel entered as what seemed to be dueling love interests. However, the overall narrative was fuzzy and it is hard to know for sure. Perez’s movement had a remarkable shift when he brought in elements of vogue, specifically in his hand performance. An interrogation of machismo and the unspoken taboo of quinceañeros (a version of a quince but for boys) started to come forward but was ultimately avoided.
Heidi Duckler Dance – “Herald In, Examine Throughout” – Dancers: Santiago Villarreal, Sasha Rivero – Musician: Marta Tiesenga – Photo by Jason Williams.
Back on the ground floor, we were taken to the lower parking lot to see a dance performance led by Heidi Duckler, Colleen Loverde, Sasha Rivero, Keith Thompson, and Santiago Villarreal. Rivero and Villarreal introduce the audience to a mesmerizing, cinematic world. The movement itself was fluid, often maneuvering atop a yellow Mustang convertible. At one point, Villarreal hopped atop the trunk and extended his legs into the backseat, turning and rolling until only his legs stuck up in the air. Omar Madkour’s lighting design immersed the duo into a new world. Duckler and Thompson interrupt the beautiful section to hop out of a smoke-filled car, hinting they were hotboxing it. They stumbled to spray paint a wall and in came the police officer. The section is a stark difference from the poignant imagery crafted by the other duo, depicting the stereotypical behavior of a “criminal.”
Loverde’s performance as the officer was a strong inclusion in the piece. Her movement language was well thought out, upholding immersive details with so much control and energetic swagger. As a performer, she has an intense connection to her movement that is visible in her eyes. Unfortunately, toy police cars interrupted her dancing as she rushed to bring them in front of the audience and turn the automatic wheels on.
Guided to the second level of the parking structure, audience members overlook Alameda Night Market where the smell of birria tacos wafted through the air and containers of agua fresca were in view. Despite the obvious proximity, an invisible line was drawn between the community and a performance that sought to represent the market’s energy.
Heidi Duckler Dance – “Herald In, Examine Throughout” – Dancers: Joseph Stevens, Stephanie Kim, Rebecca Lee – Musician: William Roper – Installation tent by Sophie Akoury and Mo Rezk – Photo by Jason Williams.
On the second level, a section performed by Stephanie Kim, Rebecca Lee, and Joseph Stevens depicted what looked like a crew of people experiencing homelessness in a makeshift tent. The movement was gorgeous, that is no question. But knowing there was an encampment on S. Main Street right on the other side of the block, it felt distasteful.
The remaining two performances — one on the crosswalk with Marissa Brown and Cox, and the other in front of the Herald In sign led by musicians Joanna Lynn-Jacobs, Mike Hall and Tomoko Ozawa — were interesting disruptions of the outdoor space. Brown had great control of the choreography with movement that popped with varying tempos. The style was supple and savored every stretch and extension before her next urgent corporal collapse.
Heidi Duckler Dance – “Herald In, Examine Throughout” – Dancer: Marissa Brown – Installation by Jazmín Urrea – Photo by Jason Williams.
The final section brought everyone back to the second floor of the parking structure to ring bells and move around while performers continued choreography in between it all — a flat conclusion to a distasteful show.
While I say all this, I do not aim this criticism at the individual artists involved. Their work is splendid and articulate. They deserve to be recognized for their artistry and ability. However, “Herald In, Examine Throughout” was not the canvas for these artists’ stories. The framing and the direction of the show led by Duckler missed the mark. The music was completely dissonant from the culture and community presented through the performance. The narratives were loose and centered on incomplete depictions of the community. The show aimed to display disparities in L.A., but instead perpetuated it.
On my walk to my car, I passed by the night market with families slipping in and out. I saw a young man riffing with a flute on the street corner. A group of friends crossed the street, ready to start their night out. And down the street, unhoused folks gathered in their tents. I looked back at the upper parking lot to see the show from their view. It felt close, but so far away.
To learn more about Heidi Duckler Dance, please visit their website.
Written by Steven Vargas for LA Dance Chronicle.
Featured image: Heidi Duckler Dance – “Herald In, Examine Throughout” – Musicians: Mike Hall, Joanna Lynn-Jacobs, Tomoko Ozawa – Photo by Jason Williams.
