《後感性‧實相》Post-Perception/Transcendence

post-perception-poster

CCDC 駐團編舞家桑吉加全新作品《後感性‧實相》為2017舞季揭開序幕。作品名字包含了中國90年代藝術思潮「後感性」及佛學用語「實相」。兩個看似毫不相關的概念,是怎樣拼在一起?且看桑吉加親自分享!

CCDC Resident Choreographer Sang Jijia’s latest work “Post-Perception/Transcendence” kicks off 2017 Dance Season. The title consists of “Post-Perception” and “Dharmatā” (here refers to “Transcendence”). “Dharmata” is a Buddhism term in Sanskrit, meaning the whole of things as they are. “Post-Perception” is a concept put forward by some Chinese artists in 1990s when Conceptual Art became popular; they questioned about what’s its meaning, what’s its value as a concept being formed? In this video, Sang Jijia talks about how he got the ideas of creating his new piece with these two different concepts.

編舞:桑吉加
Choreography : Sang Jijia

劇作指導/文本創作 :鄧樹榮
Dramaturgy/Text : Tang Shu-wing

原創音樂 :李勁松
Original Music : Dickson Dee

佈景設計 :張國永
Set Design : Leo Cheung

服裝設計 :何珮姍
Costume Design : Cindy Ho Pui-shan

燈光設計 :劉詩豪

Lighting Design : Low Shee Hoe

音響設計 :夏恩蓓

Sound Design : Ha Yan-pui
31.3 – 1.4.2017
香港文化中心大劇院
Grand Theatre, Hong Kong Cultural Centre
$280, $220, 160

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桑吉加给香港都市的异想情书

烟花,瞬间的闪亮,瞬间的华丽。之后的无尽空虚与寂寞,观看的人只惊叹于她绽放时的美丽,繁华过后的凄凉却无人去铭记。看完著名编舞家桑吉加为香港城市当代舞团编导的新作《烟花·冷》,脑海流淌出许美静《倾城》的凄美都市景象:“霓虹熄了,世界渐冷清。烟花会谢,笙歌会停,显得这故事作尾声更动听。”
“烟花易冷”的意境其实和大城市给人的感觉不相伯仲:繁华闹市高楼林立,而在不被照亮的角落里,生活着平凡的小人物,他们拥有不为人知的喜乐悲欢。桑吉加的《烟花·冷》讲的就是这些“大城小事”。
这次演出设在香港葵青剧院,无限深入式舞台,加上三面水泥墙的设计,营造出人“被城市重重包围”的感觉,在座位上就可以马上入戏。

一开始,很好奇来自藏族大草的桑吉加,如何可以编导出一部纪录香港情怀的舞作?后来才得知,原来他曾于1999至2003年间在香港生活,此次作为城市当代舞蹈团驻团编舞返港之作,他注力于如何再现香港的“当下发生”。不同于香港编舞那种都市快时尚节奏,桑吉加好像在香港这个商业都会中,透过编排/摆放舞者,构建出一座回归内心的“坛城”, 深入且细腻地探讨着城市与人的关系。
当然,关于香港的个人情怀探究,光靠桑吉加这个外地旁观者的角度似乎不够,他还特意了解舞团中香港舞者的各式生活,倾听他们记忆里的故事,随后把这些经历编成台词。舞者舞蹈,置身其中,作为都市人,舞者旁观述说、读诗,作为说书人,in与out之间,俨然一副王家卫“重庆森林式”的景象,旁白声音与光年迷幻地交错。
其中一个住在蓝田的舞者的故事特别有画面感。
“记得小时候去剪头发,每一次都是爸爸带我去,去的当然不是像我们现在的发型屋,也不是在大商场里正式的理发店。当时我问爸爸,这是什么地方?他就跟我说这是旧式公共屋邨,已经有五六十年历史,他说可能五六年之后就会给人拆掉……”
“在我读中学的时候我曾经参加校内的歌唱比赛,每次比赛都有分独唱和合唱。在合唱这个环节,当然会找一帮同学一齐参与。当时没地方给我们练习,我们每一次都走上公共屋邨的顶楼,在屋顶里面无人会骚扰我们,就算我们怎么叫,好似方圆十里都无人,与世隔绝!屋顶就是我中学时期的小天地!对,我就住在蓝田。”

开放性的结构,让虽然不在香港这片土地长大的我,依然可以穿越到每个舞者的脑洞里,进入他们的童年记忆遨游,改编属于自己版本的《六楼后座》、《致青春》或《那些年》。这些故事有喜有悲,从女儿陪妈妈逛街、街边男女的争执、以及学讲普通话时的尴尬等等,都一一在舞蹈中呈现,生活中的五味杂陈,入心入肺。
在舞者故事一一讲完之后,有一个很有意思的构图:男女舞者们梅花间竹,一字排开,一个头挨着下一个人的背,如传递能量般,连成像多米诺骨牌的人浪。呼吸、劲力流动,甚至不同的动作原理也在舞蹈身体内部形成张力──在让舞蹈身体“像河一样流动起来”。仿佛隐喻了城市文化随时间流动中重建、变迁、发展,流动到中间,突然有一个舞者下蹲,停顿了几秒,然后再继续接上,我想这大概也隐喻了香港城市的文化断层。在社会急促发展的今天,也许我们真的可以停下来,回响过去,对比现在,思考一下自己和城市的关系。

一个城市有很多细节和特色,除了视觉画面,还包括声音:比如过马路绿灯亮起时突突作响的铃声,不时在城市中绵延的救护车、警车声,建房子时的打桩声,喧闹的茶餐厅里混杂难辨的人声……这次舞蹈的配乐是我很欣赏的香港音乐人李劲松,他发掘这些具有香港风味的ambient声响,与电子节拍有机融合,电子音律与舞蹈肢体语言交汇,让这个烟花舞蹈故事更增添了人文气息和生活节奏。
 
在“大城小事”的舞动故事中,或者你也可以闭上眼睛,用脑洞给香港这个城市写一封情书。

*图片由香港城市当代舞蹈团提供

就如看煙花需要的距離

《煙花‧冷》首演劇照
(圖:Conrado Dy-Liacco )

《煙花‧冷》首演劇照
(圖:Conrado Dy-Liacco )

看罷「城市當代舞蹈團」的《煙花‧冷》(桑吉加編),與一位曾經在香港生活、現已移居外地的資深舞者,談論對作品的觀感。她表示看得血脈沸騰,意猶未盡。令她着迷的包括豐富的材料,設計精良的動作,以及作品整體展現的氣氛。雖然我也認同作品有不少值得欣賞的創作心思,但是何以一台關於香港的舞蹈竟令我生出距離感?也許藉着鋪陳這位舞者的和我的觀點,嘗試探究一下舞蹈面對背景迴異的觀眾時,是如何被觀看的。

桑吉加在《煙花‧冷》中,立足於他在1999-2003年居住的香港,遙望這城今天的模樣,發出一聲「俱往矣」的慨嘆。作品基調冰冷沈鬱,桑式強力而快速的動作設計,在李勁松吵聒的音樂催逼之下,令人噪動不安。抽象舞蹈如何有力地塑造「情境」(emotion-scape),在《煙花‧冷》中得到精彩的示範。例如作品前半部分的一段三人舞:二位男舞者(黃狄文、陳俊瑋)木無表情地把女舞者(麥琬兒)「玩弄於股掌間」──托舉、旋轉、由一位舞者如傳遞物件般交給另一位;失去動作自主權的麥卻在持續地笑,也不知是快樂、是歇斯底里、還是在嘲笑二位如機器般無法停止掇弄她的男人。雖然個人認為三人的性別設定略嫌從俗,但是生活的荒誕無奈,觀眾還是看得清楚明白。

較之桑吉加以前的作品,《煙花‧冷》的動作處理算是溫和,也加入了說話和戲劇元素,其中包括兩段比較長的對話──說是「對話」其實並不盡然,因為雖然兩段都有兩位舞者在說話,但他們之間並無交談。前一段是站在舞台後方暗角的曾景輝,以廣東話描述童年時父親帶他往理髮店的情況,他說一句,坐在舞台前方光亮處的譚渼樺便以英國口音的英文翻譯一句,一面悠閒地把手中衣服疊好、攤開、再疊好、再攤開。一道L型的燈光建立了二人的空間關係,同時在舞台上的還有在燈光區內的黎家寶和燈光區外的麥琬兒。黎和麥孤獨而扭曲的身體,各佔舞蹈一角,持續地動卻沒有交流,為看似閒話家常的「中英對話」標示壓抑的註腳。童年憶述,也要用殖民者的語言說了才算數。

如果中文英文各自表述,還可求個相安無事,那麼即使發音不準、用字錯誤,連表達的能力好像都被剝奪了,還是要說普通話的,是出於恐懼還是巴結?樂知靄反穿着西裝上衣,用半鹹不淡的普通話述說香港本土抗爭的符號之一、人稱「喜帖街」的利東街的故事。在她不遠處可見一雙穿西褲的小腿交疊着,觀眾看不見其上身,但小腿的方向明確表示視線的對象:「Big Brother is watching you。」英文也漸漸翻譯不出喜帖街的故事,還是借一首廣東話流行曲,比較穩妥。

那位資深舞者跟我說,以上種種都讓她看得很投入。與桑吉加一樣,她曾經在香港生活,在本城度過人生重要階段,她愛香港,但畢竟她不是本地人而且也移居了,所以也難免帶着懷舊的浪漫情懷,從外往香港內看,就如看煙花,必須要有一點距離。作為舞者,她關心動作經過多少設計,如何變化創新,難度有多高,舞段之間如何連接等;她衡量作品好不好時,技巧佔的比重很大。的確,舞蹈是可以從技巧層面觀看、令觀眾讚嘆的;但技巧性的、表演化的舞蹈語言,對於不會跳舞的觀眾來說同時也是一道無法跨越的牆。觀眾會對舞者投以他者、更甚是物化的判斷,而無法與之交換現場演出中最本質、最重要的價值:連結。

尤其是像《煙花‧冷》這樣的題材。我作為土生土長的香港人,回歸後每天生活在社會的改變之中,「香港的景況」並不是懷念的對象而是當下的體驗。我並不滿足於有關北角/沙田坳道/沙田的猴子的描述,因為每個香港人都可以描述一兩個重建的故事。我希望了解的是台上的個人在經歷重建時的發現,然後以真誠的身體,拉近敘述和觀點之間的距離,讓我通過感應他的身體,學懂另一個觀點。形式化的身體語言,令我無法感應同樣作為香港人的眾舞者有否真實地傳遞各自的生活景況,令我擔心他們對題材漠不關心。如果把這些因人而異的記憶痕跡壓抑了,舞台上將會只見舞者,不見個人。固然我非常欣賞幅度和速度之美,但當桑吉加在宣傳片段中說「每一步都是有重量的」時,我相信他念茲在茲的,是血肉和靈魂。

十九世紀法國地理學家Élisée Reclus說:「人類生命的每一個時刻都與當時環境的改變相符合。」城市當代舞蹈團的舞者年齡跨度大,在2003年「沙士」發生時,他們當中有三十歲的成年人,也有十來歲的青年,眾人對每天載着口罩的身體大概會有非常不同的記憶吧!當他們以相似的感覺呈現那場改變香港人的疫症時,我不禁想到,舞團本身已經成為了一種美學上的規範,身體如何放置反映腦袋中的價值觀,標準在一代又一代之間傳承之際,與「當代」的本質,漸行漸遠。

觀賞場次:

2016年6月3日
晚上8時
葵青劇院演藝廳

ps: 更正:文中提及說普通話的舞者應為Pansy Lo

via: thestandnews.com

Review- Fragile Beauty- CCDC

By: Keren Chaukria

Fragile Beauty tells the story of Hong Kong, taking you through the changes the city has seen over the years through modern dance. Indeed, from choreographer Sang Jijia’s perspective, the city has seen many changes over the thirteen years he has been gone and this 75 minute dance piece takes you through the personal and political journey the city and its people have experienced.

The moment the lights came up the dancers on stage instantly command the attention of the audience. The ensemble moved as one, showing an immense power, and strength, and as the story progressed, you could begin to see manipulation taking place within the city. This was represented through stylized, repetitive sequences that brought more of a political theme to the progression of Hong Kong. The movement of the dancers showed continuous strain, drawing attention to the multiple and varied political struggles that have taken place over the years.

Individual stories began to unfold, not just through dance, but through spoken word in both English and Cantonese, by some of the dancers. Stories were told sentence by sentence, first in Cantonese, then English. The triumvirate of dance, English, and Cantonese all happening simultaneously was quite powerful at times, however, there were moments when one or the other felt redundant, due to the size of the stage, and placement of the cast. At one point, there was a pair of dancers positioned upstage right who were verbally telling a story, and the accompanying dancers were as far away as possible, being positioned downstage left. Unfortunately, it was difficult to appreciate either piece in times like these.

That being said, there were moments where the combination of all three allowed the audience to have a clearer understanding of the situation, and the effects that change can have to not just society as a whole but the individual, and the hardship and struggles they may experience.

The performance utilised a number of different staging techniques. One of the most memorable being a section of silhouette dancers. Their stylized movement was sophistically staged and breathtaking from the moment they began. The fluidity of movement, and effortless choreography transported the audience with every move to moments they have experienced, and can relate to in Hong Kong life. It is without a doubt, that Sang Jijia captured the life, and soul of the city through its numerous changes.

Even if you’re not one for modern dance, the music, and lighting in the performance will blow you away, as it too emphasises the change, growth, and cultural identity of Hong Kong. The deep, turbulent drums expressed the anger and frustration many feel with change, as the warm, familiar, but sometimes dim lighting kept you company throughout.

Fragile Beauty is a must see for anyone who feels a connection with this city, or culture.

Fragile Beauty is playing at the Kwai Tsing Theatre through June 4th. For more information, click here.

via:http://www.hkeld.com/

Review: Fragile Beauty by City Contemporary Dance Company

A grim picture of the decline of happiness in Hong Kong, with relentless movement and enough screeching to warrant earplugs

by:Natasha Rogai

Internationally acclaimed Tibetan choreographer Sang Jijia’s last creation for City Contemporary Dance Company was the award-winning As If To Nothing in 2009. Last year he became the troupe’s resident choreographer and Fragile Beauty is his first new work in that role.

The premise of the production is the decline of life and happiness (the “fragility of beauty”) in a city – here, presumably, Hong Kong.

There are glimpses of Sang’s undoubted skill as a choreographer, but the piece resorts too much to dialogue instead of expressing ideas through movement and while it’s good to see artists tackle major local issues, the picture Sang paints is so unremittingly bleak that it fails to engage.

The piece opens with all the dancers on stage wearing long, brightly coloured skirts, in which they whirl and swirl before trooping off and returning in grim, prison uniform like costumes of white and grey which set the tone for the rest of the performance.

The choreography bears Sang’s hallmarks of relentless kineticism and emphasis on ensemble work, where the dancers’ individuality is suppressed in favour of the group.

There are some striking images, notably where a row of dancers spread out across the stage, slowly sink to their knees in unison while others continue to move. However, the choreography’s insistence on constant motion becomes tiring to watch.

Contrast is similarly lacking in terms of emotion – the city is portrayed as a nightmare in which its hapless residents are trapped, with no note of hope.

There are scenes of violence and chaos (a reference to Occupy Central and its aftermath, perhaps). One trio, with two men brutally attacking a girl who screams at the top of her voice throughout, is almost unendurable, not least for the ears.

Another sequence, which appears to refer to Sars, employs multiple voices speaking at the same time and a lot of shrill screeching – the result is excruciating and makes one long to push a mute button.

Two appealing monologues (in Chinese with English translation) by dancers about their childhood memories of Hong Kong and how old neighbourhoods have been transformed provide some respite from the tension but are overlong and seem disconnected from the rest of the piece.

The dancers perform with commendable energy and commitment. Dickson Dee’s menacing, percussion-dominated score contributes to the sense of angst, as does Sang’s cleverly conceived, claustrophobic set of moving dark grey walls which hem in the stage.

Fragile Beauty

City Contemporary Dance Company

Kwai Tsing Theatre

Reviewed: June 3