SHORE PRESS —

Shore

New York Times Review, SHORE in Lenapehoking (NYC)

New York Times Review, SHORE in Lenapehoking (NYC)

About a hundred people assembled at a basketball court on West 21st Street in Chelsea on Thursday night, huddled around a cardboard sign that read “Gather Here.” This was the starting point for “Shore: Performance,” one phase of the choreographer Emily Johnson’s multipart, multicity project, “Shore.” Following Ms. Johnson’s instructions to “walk together and in silence,” we made our way to New York Live Arts on West 19th Street, along the path (roughly) of what used to be Minetta Creek.

Covering large expanses of space and time, “Shore in Lenapehoking,” which ended on Sunday, unfolded over eight days in three boroughs, on beaches and docks, beneath highways and bridges, at a community center, a schoolyard and a theater. Lenapehoking, home of the Lenape tribe, encompasses what is now New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania and part of Connecticut — places, the title reminds us, that have not always gone by these names.

 

SHORE: Minneapolis, Short Documentary

SHORE: Minneapolis, Short Documentary

SHORE is Emily Johnson/Catalyst's new dance work. It is the third in a trilogy of works that began with The Thank-you Bar, and continued with Niicugni. SHORE is a multi-day performance installation of dance, story, volunteerism, and feasting. It is a celebration of the places where we meet and merge—land and water, performer and audience, art and community, past, present, and future. 

MANCC IN-PROGRESS VIDEO OF SHORE RESIDENCY

MANCC IN-PROGRESS VIDEO OF SHORE RESIDENCY

SHORE is Emily Johnson/Catalyst's new dance work. It is the third in a trilogy of works that began with The Thank-you Bar, and continued with Niicugni. SHORE is a multi-day performance installation of dance, story, volunteerism, and feasting. It is a celebration of the places where we meet and merge—land and water, performer and audience, art and community, past, present, and future.

SHORE INTERVIEW (PART 2)

SHORE INTERVIEW (PART 2)

6.) Storytelling has been such an important part of the whole trilogy—stories told in so many different ways—and now, in SHORE, you present us with something called "Silent Story"—how did that come about?

I’ve always thought about the stories in each of our bodies—the stories we remember and know and also the stories that are somehow passed on and live in our bodies without words. I want to honor all of these stories that are in each of us. What we call ‘silent story’ isn’t about showing anything at all—it’s about sharing a vulnerable state, a joyful or grief-ful moment. We—Krista Langberg, Aretha Aoki, and I are creating stories in our minds and you see the effort of that. The stories are shared in that moment …you see us live a moment, we share that moment with you. It’s different for each of us. For me, it’s emotional and it’s not ‘performed’ at all. It’s real—it’s a real story. And it’s always different, always a new story—every rehearsal, every performance—each one of us is thinking a story that we haven’t thought before.

STAR TRIBUNE REVIEW

STAR TRIBUNE REVIEW

As Emily Johnson prepares her biggest performance to date, she explains her expansive view of what dance is, and what it can be.

For choreographer Emily Johnson, movement has a ripple effect that goes well beyond the stage. Dance, Johnson says, influences the rhythm of the world we live in.

That explains why “Shore,” Johnson’s latest project, embraces many elements that at first may seem far afield. It includes storytelling, conversation, community volunteerism, even feasting over several days.

Response to SHORE showing at MANCC

Response to SHORE showing at MANCC

The piece [SHORE] is beautiful and wondrous and wanderous and intriguing; welcoming, inviting, and yet private and hidden at the same time. 

I love how the three movers-and-shakers [dancers] embrace their heavy breathing/fatigue, even accentuate it, channel it and augment the performance with it... It makes me think of stamina, and its limits, and how we deal with its limits. 

Limits, and dealing with limits, seemed to me to be a motif that ran throughout the performance. For how long can we stomp around, virulent/frantic/big/loud/intense, before we come to a rest? For how long can we rest, still, lying on the ground, before we flail frantically and ecstatically, moving fast as if having a seizure?