Raising the Barre
Lisa Ferrugia |
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
One sequin tube-top worn as a skirt, one powder-blue leisure suit, two fur coats, one circus performer dressed reluctantly as a pimp: rehearsal for the Filthy Gorgeous Fashion Show, part of the festivities at Attack Theatre’s first-ever gala fundraiser, is just getting underway. It’s 10 pm. Peter Kope and Michele de la Reza are sitting on the steel staircase at the edge of the studio, lit by the blue light from Michele’s laptop screen. They won’t be needed for another hour at least. Michele is on the phone. Peter…well, it’s generally best not to conjecture what Peter is thinking.
“Peter’s the forest, and I’m the trees.”
Or Peter’s version: “I’m the ‘let’s,’ Michele’s the ‘how?’”
Together, they are Attack Theatre, usually seen partnering on stage, or arguing in the studio over the technicalities of a lift, or vamping for the Whirl photographer at their fundraiser. Almost always, they are the center of a continuously-renewing nebula of dancers, musicians, visual artists, actors, economic developers, and other creative types.
Reference the cell phone, laptop, and time stamp above if it all sounds like fun and games. Why work so hard to herd cats? Why not stick to choreography and skip the elaborate scheduling, the extra rehearsals, and the nightmarish payroll?
Put simply, they’re thrill-seekers.
Michele: “We’re addicted to adrenaline.”
Peter: “We’re addicted to failure.”
Try reading those two quotations simultaneously and in stereo for full effect. And if you’re concerned that their stories don’t quite match up (which, if you spend much time around Attack Theatre, you’ll soon learn not to be), Peter will elaborate: “Success and failure both engender the same adrenaline rush. We’re dedicated to accepting failure—”
(Michele: “You are.”)
“—and hopefully never achieving it.”
Somewhere in there is a concept they can agree on. If they’re afraid of failure, they’ll never try something new. And “something new” is something Attack Theatre is all about.
The oh-so-dirty ball
Their latest project, the Dirty Ball, an Attack Theatre take on gala fundraisers, involved nearly 100 collaborators. Just for starters: Annie Nowakowski, a graduating senior from Point Park University; Devin Fay, a breakdancing transplant from Ithaca, NY; and Ben Sota of Zany Umbrella Circus fame.
And there’s little time to rest after the 450-guest rockin’ party. On the near horizon: a tour of local nursing homes, a trip to Indonesia (a lesson in packing lightly for performers fond of over-sized props), a performance of As You Like It at Carnegie Mellon University, and a season of touring their latest evening-length work Games of Steel.
But ask Peter and Michele how they go about finding new collaborations, and you’ll find two people well-versed in offering articulate sound-bites suddenly searching for words. It’s hard to define what they’re looking for. Something different. Something interesting. A challenge. Something more than they can put words to.
Michele can tell you they’re interested in honest collaboration: not just an opportunity to create in the same space with someone else, but a process that produces a product they couldn’t make alone. Peter can tell you they’re hugely particular.
Making their mark
Lee Ferraro, general manager of 91.3FM WYEP, can tell you that whatever it is, it seems to be working—not just for Peter and Michele, but also for Pittsburgh: “They export Pittsburgh as something that is not just the symphony and ballet. The reason they’re invited to other communities is because they’re doing something different than what those communities have.”
Ferraro also points to their track record in hiring young dancers and artists, a role he sees as crucial in supporting a thriving arts community in Pittsburgh. “When there’s a group like Attack Theatre around,” he says, “it gives younger artists a vision to be able to express themselves with confidence.”
Annie Nowakowski knows something about that. She recently flaunted sequins and fur during the Dirty Ball’s Filthy Gorgeous Fashion Show, a gig she got roped into by friend and former Point Park classmate Jeff Davis.
“I adore Peter and Michele,” she says. She’s had plenty of contact with the duo through partnering classes and choreography projects at Point Park University. She also danced in the 2004 premiere of Perlann Porter’s Pillow Project Dance Company, which Peter and Michele hosted in their Bloomfield studio space. Nowakowski was impressed with Attack’s behind-the-scenes work to help the young company get its start. “They’ve always been so supportive of the projects going on in Pittsburgh.”
Graduation looms large for Nowakowski, and with it the usual decision to stay or to go: “All I want to do is contemporary dance. The fact that Attack Theatre and Dance Alloy are so prominent makes Pittsburgh more attractive.”
Whether or not she stays will be dependent on whether or not she finds a job, but Attack Theatre’s presence in the city at least gives Pittsburgh a fighting chance of keeping her. And if Nowakowski stays, maybe one or two other dancers will too. Eventually, the dance community grows larger, and that’s what Attack Theatre hopes for.
For the love of dance
Because it does all come back to dance, in the end. Despite their love of spectacle, dance is Peter and Michele’s primary mode of communication. For Michele, “It’s the way I feel articulate. It’s what fulfills me most.” Or Peter: “Dance is one of the most honest forms of expression. Certain truths have to have physicality to express them.”
Working with multiple media forms helps them translate that dance into a form the average verbal-dominant audience member can understand. For Peter, it’s about getting people to trust themselves: “If we can get people to stop paying attention to one small piece and look at the totality, suddenly they can say, ‘Oh, I did get this.’”
(Michele would point out, though, that for all the collaborative work they’ve done, she really she is more of a dance “purist,” and her association with Peter has changed that. Peter would laugh at this, however, and point out that Michele’s performing career started in mime and opera. Hardly dance purity.)
The jibing and disagreement get at something important, though. Attack Theatre is a relationship—one that works, one way or another, and is attractive to others. Peter and Michele have formed a small, personal company, and company member Jeff Davis points to that as a reason for joining them after graduation from Point Park University and a short tour with Fosse. “Their work relationship is hard to get a grasp on,” he acknowledges, but “they instantly want you to be a part of them. It’s a relationship that’s not just about dance.”
Ferraro gets at it when he says that “they are more important than they are large.” Still, the process of creation and collaboration isn’t always fun for a small, personal company.Like when one of the 90+ well-intentioned volunteer participants at the Dirty Ball has tidied away the box of extra beer cups, and it’s Michele’s job to find them before guests start to notice.
Or when the phone keeps ringing and rehearsal was supposed to start 45 minutes ago and 15 students, circus performers, designers, and breakdancers are arriving in two hours.
“I’d really like to work ten-hour days, not 17,” Michele sometimes sighs.But Attack Theatre’s mantra is “Problems, obstacles, opportunities.”
And yes, that does spell “poo,” for those interested in acronyms. It took Peter and Michele eight years or so to notice that. Peter, with his usual laughing sarcasm: “It’s so clear now why our lives are what they are.”
Lisa Ferrugia is a professional dancer and freelance writer who last wrote for Pop City about the Kelly-Strayhorn Theater.
Photos:
Michele de la Reza and Peter Kope
Attack Theatre studio entry
Dancers at The Dirty Ball
Lighting at The Dirty Ball
Couple dancing at The Dirty Ball
Attack Theatre studio
all photos copyright Jonathan Greene,
except photos of The Dirty Ball, copyright John Norton