Three dancers emerged from a door at the back of the Tate Modern museum’s vast Turbine Hall and walked towards a black square marked on its floor. Two stood on its sideline; the other walked out onto the square and bent her knees, turned her head, and swung her arms loosely, in silence that would last for the duration of the performance. Thirty seconds or so later, a second dancer followed her onto the square and bent her knees, turned her head, and swung her arms. Then, the third. Along with twelve other dancers, they’d perform “Trio A” in shifts of three for the next six hours, as the Tate Modern marked sixty years of “Trio A” with two days of performances, a panel with a Zoom appearance from Rainer herself, and a display of a 1978 film of Rainer performing the solo.
Each trio danced the piece three times through before a pause, after which the next trio began. Just a few feet, and a discreet cordon, separated them from the audience, who stood or leaned or sat on stools, on the same level as the dancers. The Turbine Hall is the Tate’s atrium, filled with museum-goers taking a break between the Frida Kahlo exhibit and the Tracey Emin show, waiting for friends, or just getting out of the sun. Presented in the Turbine Hall, “Trio A” could be encountered casually or with intent, engaged with briefly or for hours.
This format invited audience members to watch, leave, return, repeat, and to see the choreography inhabited by different artists. It was fitting for a work whose key is, in its creator’s own words, its “uninflected continuity.” “Trio A” flows: there are no phrases, there is no narrative or climax, and each movement is given equal emphasis and gravity to the ones that precede and follow it. None of its movements are showy. Many are familiar: head shakes, crouching, rolling on the floor. Yet even though the movements are simple, “Trio A” commands attention. Nothing in the piece is framed as more important than anything else, so everything comes to feel important.
Thank you for this report of this new version of Trio A at the Tate. FYI, when Yvonne Rainer wrote “No to virtuosity” and “No to spectacle” it was part of an essay she wrote on the process of making The Mind Is a Muscle, printed in The Drama Review in 1965. In fact it was just the postscript. She never meant it as a manifesto, just an expression of her state of mind/body at the time. As you point out, she revised it in 2008. Another point of fact: When The Mind Is a Muscle was first performed at Judson Church, Clive Barnes of the NY Times called it “total nothingness.” Trio A was not recognized as a landmark until critic/historian Sally Banes decided to have it filmed in 1978, more than a decade after it was first shown.