Regina Hackett in the Seattle P.I.:
“A dark curtain of electronic snow is pastoral as it falls and jolting as it reverses itself and rises.” READ MORE

Sandra Kurtz in the Seattle Weekly:
“Most founders of American modern dance hated ballet the same way the Puritans hated the Papists.” READ MORE

Jim Demetre wrote about the show on the Artdish blog:

“I saw Zoe Scofield and Juniper Shuey’s the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t at On the Board’s Thursday night. I have always thought that they were Seattle’s best modern dance company, but this performance was something quite extraordinary. It may be the finest performance I’ve seen by a local modern dance company since Mark Morris was based here in the late 80s.” READ MORE

Welcome to our review blog for the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t. Read our patron reviews, click on the Comments button to read the comments of others and post your own thoughts.

Blogged on Seattlest:

“You know how in horror films they were doing this thing where they’d delete frames and speed up or slow down the film to give the “evil” an eerie, inhuman quality? Zoe Scofield does that live, pretzeling, twisting, writhing, blank face dusted white with a silver streak down the center, her eyes disturbing pools of black under the lights. Yet…a hand reaches out to softly enfold the nape of a neck, there’s a surrender, a leaning back.” READ MORE

The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t, Zoe Scofield’s and Juniper Shuey’s third and most ambitious work to appear at On The Boards, opens with a characteristic Zoe/Juniper visual element, video projected on scrim. As snow falls from the sky, an indistinct figure, but recognizably a dancer, moves from right to left across the stage. Soon the snow becomes a hard rain, then a torrent, and the figure begins to resemble a darting fish or a fragile flame, barely holding its own against the onrushing flood. The image seems to express the central theme of the work: the tenuous existence of anyone or anything that attempts to buck the current.

Reputedly, this theme reflects Scofield’s own story: A gifted student of ballet, she was discouraged from becoming a professional ballerina because she was too much of an individual and could not “stay in line.” Perhaps as a result, her choreography reflects both her love of ballet and her willingness to subvert its canons for her own expressive purposes. From the waist down, Scofield and her dancers often look like they’re performing classical ballet. From the waist up, it’s often another story: Torsos undulate and twist, arms writhe and contort, and faces express indefinable emotions, in a blend of modern dance, Butoh, yoga, and even jazz idioms. Sometimes the dancers seem to resemble deer, birds, or insects. Whenever the choreography threatens to become purely balletic, Scofield throws in some subtle asymmetry or a cocked wrist, defying our expectations. The result is mesmerizing.

Consistent with its underlying theme, the work is danced mostly in unison. Surprisingly, this never becomes monotonous: Individuals and groups of dancers vary their spatial orientation, unison sometimes breaks into two- or three-voice polyphony, and lone dancers episodically split from the group, sometimes rejoining, sometimes becoming new leaders. In two extended duets, pairs of dancers are briefly more self-expressive and mutually responsive. But, in the end, unison always seems to exert an inexorable attraction. Morgan Henderson’s postmodern musical score is well suited to these choreographic themes, and its propulsive energy builds to a satisfying finale.

At the heart of all this is Scofield herself, the company’s principal dancer as well as choreographer. Scofield looks and moves like no dancer I’ve ever seen. Her style is so complex and unusual that I sometimes get the uncanny sense of watching two separate beings inhabiting one body. She’s also unerringly precise, hyperflexible, and lighting-quick. Her quirky individuality might not appeal to everyone, but I find her utterly compelling: I can’t get enough.

Christiana Axelsen, who has performed with the company since 2006, dances with fierce energy, and is an ideal partner for Scofield in their exquisite duet. Ezra Dickinson, who has also danced with Scofield since 2006 and is the company’s only male dancer, often assumes the role of deviant individualist here. Dressed like the women, with an androgynous appearance and an impeccable style, he takes the piece beyond gender, contributing to the Butoh-like feeling. Lizzy Melton, who joined the company only a month ago, dances like a veteran; her ability to quickly master Scofield’s choreography testifies to her skill and determination. The final member is Allison Van Dyck, who joined the company in 2007. She’s nothing short of spectacular. Seemingly born to dance this style, she displays boundless athleticism and total commitment. Her tender duet with Dickinson is extraordinary.

For this version of the devil, remounted since its Portland debut in 2007, the company is augmented by an eight-woman corps de ballet. Identically attired in short white dresses, white capes, and long white gloves, they look like Stepford cotillion debutantes and often move like a synchronized flock of anthropomorphic chickens. Dancing with precision and verve, they take the piece to another level entirely, whenever they’re on stage.

This is one of the most entertaining and exciting dance pieces I’ve seen in the last two years. I’m sorry that I will only be able to see it three times. If you’re in any doubt about attending, just think of how great it will feel to tell your grandchildren that you saw Zoe Scofield in 2008, before she took the world by storm.

- Anne

Clicking static (or is it static clicking) starts the show. A smattering of flakes fall from the top, and I discern the layers of white with surprising ease. It’s a blizzard, but an amiable blizzard. Through the thick, I see a regurgitated figure appear stage left, transferred, and then re-transferred so as not to be recognized, as a third-generation VHS copy-of-a-copy. Dancer? Check. Virile and unusual? Double-check. White stag or human? Yes. Digital projection or human? I convince myself, it is certainly human, and I feel more human having asked. I believe s(he) is human until–she moves. Wait. Is she human or a human raised by feral white stags? Boxes of white placed with people in them. Or the other way around…? She moves as an atypical phenomenon. Untamed and flicked. There’s virtuosity in tension. A state of (human?) experience is reached–visceral, primeval, my own yearning to move is ripe. White girls on a white lake–the arch of the foot, strong, rotated, lever that turn-out, wing it.Exact it, point it, levitate it, work it, but don’t break it. A corps of dancers is defined, and so is a core. Quartet? No. Quintet. Piercing drive of the orchestration has stopped my pacemaker– oh this one has ease of movement, ease of effort. Perfect execution passe to momentum hurl. Ballet investigation? This part is chewy. ‘Fully extended’ is actualized. I grapple with marrying technique and line with life and substance. Contention with momentum and shape and all relationship of every aspect of movement is actualized in that one, polyamorously and harmoniously. They’ve found the way. Golden light. Stark blackness. Then stark appearance–with color. I could experience her experience all day, and want to see what she is seeing. This one’s focus is stark and sharply open as the severe, rear, multicolor entrails. Is she the only one or are there other colored tendriled people. Being that languid and easy requires he-man strength and she brings it. S(he)(it)? flys. They rest on each other, and it’s more than landmarks for them. There are more. And then there’s layered sleet progressing closer. Another progression of driving beat and drone catapults this one from a deep-second into frontal saut-de-basque like it’s yer job. Violent skips. There’s romanticism in the desperate, smart execution. Somehow I can feel expulsion of breath despite the driving, thunderous blare. A lot of sleet, floor slides and further soaring. Sleeting and sunny in the same instance.

- Jim Kent

Plus, a word find puzzle:

Zoe Scofield is an artist so fierce that, although her intensity is sometimes frightening, you are drawn to her, cannot take your eyes from her or from the art she is creating. No mater if she sits still, one hand raised, or if she suddenly transforms into a praying mantis, or if she is moving across the stage, across the stage, across the stage in leaps and strange formations, she is riveting and somewhat terrifying. The demands she places on herself are intense both emotionally and physically. She clearly inspires, and will only accept the best and deepest emotional and technical work from her dancers. They seem more than willing to delve and deliver.

Part of The Devil You Know… contrasts Animalistic Wild Child with Debutantes in White Gloves. Sometimes the animals move in a pack, sometimes one will deviate, momentarily. Sometimes two will break free of the pack and dance alone.

Wai Ching creates costumes that flow with every movement, which, considering the wide variety of movement throughout the piece is quite an accomplishment. he Wild Child wear has a distinctly organic feel. Perhaps Scofield’s insistence on digging deep extends beyond her dancers, for the costume design feels deeply thought out in every aspect as well. Morgan Henderson’s music for this piece is hypnotic and foreboding. The music adds much to the already highly pitched ensemble. I found myself wishing I could buy the soundtrack in the lobby so that I could feel the feverish velocity and precision of this group at will.

Finally, let me say that Juniper Shuey provides the most subtle, subcutaneous and effective video work I have ever seen incorporated into a live performance. The partnership between Zoe & Juniper is immensely satisfying.

Scofield has said how seeing great artists at a young age was a mind blowing experience for her. Though many parents might blanch at exposing their young ones to this kind of intense emotional and psychological work, I would love to bring my seven-year-old daughter to see Zoe/Juniper. Her mind would be equally blown.

- SJ Chiro

Click the picture to watch a video of Lane and Tania discussing the fine art of picking karaoke songs for tomorrow night’s party.