Loving the process

Dance Magazine, Jan, 2005 by Victoria Looseleaf

YOU MIGHT think that at 75, Rudy Perez--choreographer, dancer, company head and teacher--would think about retiring. Add the fact that he's losing his eyesight from glaucoma, and all bets would be off that he would not only still be making dances, but also performing them.

"I don't want to play the age card," says Los Angeles-based Perez, who joined the legendary Judson Dance Theater in the mid-'60s. "But the best revenge is longevity. It's a matter of having faith and not giving up. It gives me juice to keep going--until I can't stand on my feet anymore.

Having stood on those feet is what has allowed Perez to create more than 50 dances since he moved to Southern California 26 years ago. His company in the 1960s and '70s, the Rudy Perez Dance Theater, toured throughout the United States, Germany, and Canada. His signature solo pieces of the time, Coverage (1970), which has been part of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater repertoire, and Countdown (1964), have withstood the test of time.

Former Perez student Victor Quijada, whose Montreal-based Rubberbandance Group shows the postmodern icon's influence, performed Countdown in 2003. The process of recreating that work is at the heart of Severo Perez's (no relation) documentary, Countdown: Reflections on a Life in Dance. The film features archival footage, interviews with current and former dancers, and critical commentary, as it examines the life of this pioneering artist.

The recent screening and a pair of performances in Pasadena proved that Perez not only still has the goods, but that his style remains both biting and relevant today. This was evident in Perez's Take Your Alligator With You (1963) and Equinox-Run. The first, featuring Anne and Jeff Grimaldo, made pedestrian acts-brandishing a cigarette, opening an umbrella--look forever young. The latter work, a 1977 study in isolation, featured Stefan Fabry maneuvering in goggles and flight suit.

But it was Perez's gutsy solo commemorating 9/11 that showcased his mettle. Revisiting 1982's It Should Go Unsaid, the performer fashioned a devastating piece of movement theater, making canny use of two white pedestals--twin towers--to address the notion of unfathomable loss. Every gesture, from bending on one knee to conjuring a silent shriek, echoed a journey of pain. Perez's latest effort is his newest company, The Rudy Perez Performance Ensemble. In collaboration with Fabry, composer Jeff Boynton, and actor Strawn Bovee, the septuagenarian premiered the 45-minute Double Play, a tribute to Gertrude Stein. The piece was, appropriately, set in a gymnasium--a temple for the body.

As 25 performers executed a series of moves both simple and seductive, ferocious running morphed into tableaux of interlocking bodies. With Boynton's techno-like soundtrack bouncing off the walls, the vast room did, indeed, feel like a cathedral.

"I love the process," says Perez. "It's like having children or a garden and seeing something grow."