BY JOY GOODWIN
In a sunlight-infused studio at the Baryshnikov Arts Center one recent afternoon, Lisa Bufano sat in a corner, attaching her prosthetics. Ms. Bufano, a 34-year-old performance artist whose legs are amputated just below the knee, worked methodically to attach what she called her "running legs," a pair of coil-like springs. The task was made more difficult by the absence of Ms. Bufano's fingers; they too were amputated in 1994, in one of 20 surgeries undertaken to save her life.
The Boston-based Ms. Bufano was in New York to rehearse for the upcoming premiere of "Five Angry Mouths," her first dance performance. An untrained dancer, Ms. Bufano asked the choreographer (and former Bill T. Jones dancer) Heidi Latsky to create the solo for her - and to coach her in performing it. Ms. Bufano's solo, along with a new companion solo for Ms. Latsky, will debut at Judson Memorial Church on January 19 and 20.
Jogging around the studio in close-fitting lycra to the driving rhythms of Japanese pop, Ms. Bufano looked fit and sleek. When she struck a pose, the eye was drawn not to the shiny prosthetics but to her steely gaze. Despite the missing fingers, her fists looked tough and strong when she held them above her head. Intense yet unmistakably groovy, she suggested a cool, confident downtown woman.
Even later on, when she removed the prosthetic legs and slid to the floor, she carried herself with authority. When traces of vulnerability did appear, they were superseded by images of strength - sitting bolt upright, a sudden snap of the head, or one of those arresting stares.
Ms. Bufano's first dance solo shows the iron core of a woman who has been challenging herself ever since a raging staph bacteria infection made her an amputee at 21. Even while still hospitalized, the former art school student began painting, holding the paintbrush in her mouth. But it would be years before she went back to school in her late 20s. After graduating, she re-entered the work force as a web designer, then quit her job in 2005 to pursue art full-time.
This fall, when Ms. Bufano received a $4,000 Franklin Furnace Grant for Performance Art to stage a major work in New York, she knew it was time to work with a choreographer. "After I became an amputee, I spent a lot of time hiding behind a camera, doing animation and video," Ms. Bufano said during a break from rehearsals. "But this fall, I felt I had to pursue dance as a way to be more comfortable in front of people. Because it terrified me."
A friend recommended Ms. Latsky, who was struck by Ms. Bufano's potential from their first meeting. "Her body made such beautiful shapes," Ms. Latsky recalled. "And she has such a rich interior life that is so alive in her dancing - which is actually something that can be hard to discover in trained dancers."
Ms. Bufano relocated to New York for a few months to work closely with Ms. Latsky on technique and choreography. The two were determined to make an unstintingly physical piece. But it was clear that the process would involve more than steps. A key breakthrough came one day in rehearsal, the product of a simple request. Ms. Latsky turned to Ms. Bufano and said simply, "Tell your story."
Ms. Bufano chose to tell the story of one significant day during her illness. "It was one of the rare days when I was alone in the hospital," Ms. Bufano recalled. "I had known that they had taken some of my fingers, but I didn't know how much they had taken, because the bandages were there. I noticed one of the bandages was loose, so I started unraveling it, not knowing. And my hand inside the bandage was getting smaller and smaller. Then I saw my hand. I saw the five incisions where my fingers had been. They looked like five open mouths to me."
To Ms. Bufano, "That was a good sign. The fingers were bleeding and healthy - whereas the last time I had seen them, they had looked really bad."
When she told Ms. Latsky the story, it was, she said, "a big crying day." It was also the beginning of a more honest, vulnerable way of working.
"We really tied the meaning to the movements," Ms. Latsky said. The process was often emotional, marked by creative battles. A piece of music that Ms. Latsky loved was rejected by Ms. Bufano, who saw the song as the work of a tragic figure. "I didn't want people to see me as tragic," Ms. Bufano emphasized.
Ms. Latsky evidently agreed, for the figure that emerges in "Five Angry Mouths" exudes strength - even at her most defenseless and exposed. Ms. Bufano, who professes an admiration for "extreme" dance forms like Butoh, commands the stage by sheer force of personality. At times, the way she articulates the distinctive choreography is even somewhat reminiscent of Ms. Latsky's own movement style - fierce, compact, direct.
Ms. Bufano, who has performed the solo in local workshops, looks forward to showing it to its first large audience. For now, however, she can't bring herself to watch video of herself performing it. "I felt so emotional, seeing myself like that," she said, shaking her head. "The moments of vulnerability versus the moments of strength. It's really scary to be seen like that. But I also really want it to be seen."
Begins January 19 (55 Washington Square South at Thompson Street, 917-929-6985).
January 15, 2007
URL: http://www.nysun.com/article/46645
The Boston-based Ms. Bufano was in New York to rehearse for the upcoming premiere of "Five Angry Mouths," her first dance performance. An untrained dancer, Ms. Bufano asked the choreographer (and former Bill T. Jones dancer) Heidi Latsky to create the solo for her - and to coach her in performing it. Ms. Bufano's solo, along with a new companion solo for Ms. Latsky, will debut at Judson Memorial Church on January 19 and 20.
Jogging around the studio in close-fitting lycra to the driving rhythms of Japanese pop, Ms. Bufano looked fit and sleek. When she struck a pose, the eye was drawn not to the shiny prosthetics but to her steely gaze. Despite the missing fingers, her fists looked tough and strong when she held them above her head. Intense yet unmistakably groovy, she suggested a cool, confident downtown woman.
Even later on, when she removed the prosthetic legs and slid to the floor, she carried herself with authority. When traces of vulnerability did appear, they were superseded by images of strength - sitting bolt upright, a sudden snap of the head, or one of those arresting stares.
Ms. Bufano's first dance solo shows the iron core of a woman who has been challenging herself ever since a raging staph bacteria infection made her an amputee at 21. Even while still hospitalized, the former art school student began painting, holding the paintbrush in her mouth. But it would be years before she went back to school in her late 20s. After graduating, she re-entered the work force as a web designer, then quit her job in 2005 to pursue art full-time.
This fall, when Ms. Bufano received a $4,000 Franklin Furnace Grant for Performance Art to stage a major work in New York, she knew it was time to work with a choreographer. "After I became an amputee, I spent a lot of time hiding behind a camera, doing animation and video," Ms. Bufano said during a break from rehearsals. "But this fall, I felt I had to pursue dance as a way to be more comfortable in front of people. Because it terrified me."
A friend recommended Ms. Latsky, who was struck by Ms. Bufano's potential from their first meeting. "Her body made such beautiful shapes," Ms. Latsky recalled. "And she has such a rich interior life that is so alive in her dancing - which is actually something that can be hard to discover in trained dancers."
Ms. Bufano relocated to New York for a few months to work closely with Ms. Latsky on technique and choreography. The two were determined to make an unstintingly physical piece. But it was clear that the process would involve more than steps. A key breakthrough came one day in rehearsal, the product of a simple request. Ms. Latsky turned to Ms. Bufano and said simply, "Tell your story."
Ms. Bufano chose to tell the story of one significant day during her illness. "It was one of the rare days when I was alone in the hospital," Ms. Bufano recalled. "I had known that they had taken some of my fingers, but I didn't know how much they had taken, because the bandages were there. I noticed one of the bandages was loose, so I started unraveling it, not knowing. And my hand inside the bandage was getting smaller and smaller. Then I saw my hand. I saw the five incisions where my fingers had been. They looked like five open mouths to me."
To Ms. Bufano, "That was a good sign. The fingers were bleeding and healthy - whereas the last time I had seen them, they had looked really bad."
When she told Ms. Latsky the story, it was, she said, "a big crying day." It was also the beginning of a more honest, vulnerable way of working.
"We really tied the meaning to the movements," Ms. Latsky said. The process was often emotional, marked by creative battles. A piece of music that Ms. Latsky loved was rejected by Ms. Bufano, who saw the song as the work of a tragic figure. "I didn't want people to see me as tragic," Ms. Bufano emphasized.
Ms. Latsky evidently agreed, for the figure that emerges in "Five Angry Mouths" exudes strength - even at her most defenseless and exposed. Ms. Bufano, who professes an admiration for "extreme" dance forms like Butoh, commands the stage by sheer force of personality. At times, the way she articulates the distinctive choreography is even somewhat reminiscent of Ms. Latsky's own movement style - fierce, compact, direct.
Ms. Bufano, who has performed the solo in local workshops, looks forward to showing it to its first large audience. For now, however, she can't bring herself to watch video of herself performing it. "I felt so emotional, seeing myself like that," she said, shaking her head. "The moments of vulnerability versus the moments of strength. It's really scary to be seen like that. But I also really want it to be seen."
Begins January 19 (55 Washington Square South at Thompson Street, 917-929-6985).
January 15, 2007
URL: http://www.nysun.
