12 MINUTES MAX FALL 2024

Curiosity and wonder swelled within me as I left the 12 Minutes Max show. The night showcased profound creative expression using several artistic disciplines. Through dance, theater, and experimental music these artists shared work that was layered, complex, and filled with deep thought and preparation. 12 Minutes Max serves as a performance lab for new and experimental works, offering artists a space to test bold ideas and share glimpses of materials that may grow into full-length pieces. Co-curated by Alisa Popova and Eva Crystal, the performance took me on a journey that tapped into my emotions, made me reflect on my own life as a person and artist, and enticed my senses. 

The night began with a duet titled I Came Looking, created and performed by Evelyn Morrison and Aubra Heller. Bisecting the stage down the middle was a square door-like prop made of pvc pipe that was covered with shades of blue fabric. The prop showed the separation between the two dancers but also connected them. The two dancers never made skin-to-skin contact or direct eye contact without the blue fabric between them. Whether mimicking a wave or wrapping an arm around the other, the piece exuded intimacy, filled with a sense of longing and a quiet remembering of each other’s presence. A film ended the piece with the dancers entangled under a large tree in slow and deliberate contact with one another. With the same blue fabric hanging from the branches of the tree, the dancers were finally able to be together. 

A solo created and choreographed by Marissa Rae Niederhauser was the second piece of the show. Untitled Solo Dance 2023-2024 pt 2 began in silence as Niederhauser looked directly into the audience with surety. Always traveling on the diagonal, she repeated the same phrase of movement that started with a powerful strut towards the downstage corner. A recording of Niederhauser’s voice provided context for the piece. It seemed like a recording of a processing session of her choreographic process. She spoke about how choreographing is a male dominated field, is seen from a masculine perspective, and strategies to combat those narratives. Within the recording Niederhauser’s voice states she wants to commit to nurturing her work. This performance felt like a test run of that commitment. Certain gestures like flipping her hair, the powerful walk towards the downstage corner, and the snap of her fingers were consistent every time she completed the phrase of movement. However, on certain passes she would linger in the low sweeping leg circles or double time the hop scotch-like step as if testing the waters of what she can do with her choreography. The calm and intent pace of her voice recording and movement made the performance approachable and less precious. This piece gave time to process and encourage the growth of the choreography. 

Quantum Entanglement and the Resonant Skin I’m In, created and performed by Jackie An, awoke my ears and imagination. They performed as a one person orchestra simultaneously planning the violin, composing layered sound using a loop pedal and a snare drum while never moving from their seat. An connected every instrument with rope or chains that would rattle and add to the soundscore, depending on the effects they created. Using their hands and feet to manipulate their instruments, exhibiting impressive control of the performance. Every change of volume or intensity of the base felt intentional and calculated as they waited and watched before continuing to compose. At first I was focused on watching the movement of An playing the instruments. Eventually I decided to close my eyes and listen to the world they were creating through sound. The soundscore richened with deep warp-like tones, syncopated pizzicato, and tremors from the snare drum, which had a chain laid on top of it. 

I’ll come running…, a duet choreographed by Rhea Keller, spun a comedic tale of a hopeless romantic. Derek Crescenti stood on stage, his expression hopeful as the lights came up brightly. “I’m ready to fall in love,” he said. The audience and I cheered in support of his declaration. He shuffled quickly around the outskirts of the stage, his back hunched forward, shoulders near his ears, and his gaze cast downward. A complete contrast to his optimistic beginning. As the melodic music began to play his movement grew and became full-bodied. Transitioning between sustained kicks and high jumps, his movement swooning around the space, his exaggerated joyous expression connecting him to the audience and providing comedic relief. Keller enters the stage and they automatically embrace in a hug. It seems love has been found, if only briefly before Keller receives a call and leaves Crescenti alone again. Returning to the choreography in a nothing-to-see-here-the-show-must-go-on manner, Crescenti’s virtuosic movement returns. His high-speed turns felt joyful but his facial expression and darting eyes felt vacant. The bold desire of finding love was still present but the loss of love or the thought of never finding love weighed heavily. 

Adriana Hillas performed and wrote the final piece of the night, Strange, Fucked Up, Kind of Beautiful. She entered the stage, arranging chairs, a mug, and a jacket in three distinct areas. As she moved around the stage each monologue was from the perspective of different people trying to find a missing girl. Hillas masterfully transformed into a different character each time. The tone of her voice, mannerisms, body language, and place on the stage shifted to reflect how that character felt concerning the missing girl. One time she even played the girl everyone was looking for. The quick shifts in character– from exhaustion to playful, hysterical to calm, pissed to hopeful, were amazing to watch. Lines such as “I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t tired,” “How do you get yourself to go on,” and “Do it badly” stuck with me because I’ve said those same things to myself in difficult moments. Hillas captured the raw emotion of humans dealing with the struggle of life and finding a way to keep pushing forward. Undeniably showcasing the mark of a true artist dedicated to her craft.

12 Minutes Max Fall Edition ran at Base Experimental Arts + Space on December 8 and 9, 2024. Featured photo: I’ll come running… by Rhea Keller featuring Derek Crescenti. Photo by Michelle Smith-Lewis.