Recital Revival

Few established artists hold recitals anymore. The word “recital” feels both elementary and antiquated, evoking either children parading across an auditorium stage or a nineteenth-century drawing room where the gentry whisper secrets around a pianoforte. Today, adults perform in concerts, seasons, WIPS and installations. But maybe the recital as a performance genre should have a revival?

Performance

SF Performances Pivot Festival: “Parallel Play” by Myles Thatcher and Andy Meyerson

Place

War Memorial Veterans Building, San Francisco, California, February 1, 2026

Words

Garth Grimball

Myles Thatcher in “Parallel Play” by Myles Thatcher and Andy Meyerson. Image courtesy of the artists

On February 1, the SFPerformances Pivot Festival presented “Parallel Play,” a recital of six solos danced by Myles Thatcher to music played by Andy Meyerson. Thatcher, choreographer and San Francisco Ballet soloist, and Meyerson, artistic director and co-founder of the experimental classical ensemble The Living Earth Show, both described the recital as a means to confront artistic lineage and graduate into a new artistic phase in the program notes.

A Cunningham-Cage collaboration opened “Parallel Play.” Meyerson stood behind a table that looked more like a science fair exhibit than a musician’s instrument. A cactus, a bin of dried leaves, two huge leeks, stones and more flora were assembled to follow Cage’s improvisational score “Child of Tree.” Thatcher entered from the corner shirtless in black pants with his elbows bent by his ribs and wrists relaxed forward. Cunningham’s “Solo” was based on observations of animals at the San Diego zoo, and the choreography is both very Merce and a deviation into theatricality. There was minimal movement and maximal focus as Thatcher step-touched across the floor, sat on his hip and slowly swished his leg like a tail. Instead of Cunningham’s signature curve, twist, tilt combinations, “Solo” required Thatcher to paw at his head, flutter his hands and even stick out his tongue. All the while Meyerson was plucking cactus needles, rubbing leeks together and fondling leaves. The work truly set the tone of parallel play.

“Portrait,” with movement by Babatunji and a sound score by Raven Chacon, was in the lineage of Cunningham and Cage. Meyerson and Chacon developed the score first performed in 2019: two players holding and moving a sheet of glass that they scrape to create sound. Babatunji shaped improvisations between Thatcher and Meyerson into a movement score. For this “Portrait,” the sheet of glass was scraped with the back handles of marimba mallets, and let me tell you, the sound was disquieting (to this viewer). Thatcher and Meyerson have great chemistry and watching them negotiate weight sharing, balancing the glass pane while “playing” it was impressive, but the sonic quality was akin to nails on a chalkboard and honestly my cringing got in the way of seeing it with my eyes open the whole time.

“Parallel Play” by Myles Thatcher and Andy Meyerson. Image courtesy of the artists

Robin Dekkers and Rex Wheeler each choreographed solos that served a different kind of playful energy. Dekkers’s “The Path Only Appears With The First Step,” had Meyerson playing Glenn Kotche’s composition on a drum kit upstage left. Jim French lit the stage with a diagonal special from behind Meyerson. The choreography started as music visualization and evolved into a blend of pugilism and ballet. Meyerson would hit the snare and Thatcher would crouch. Thatcher worked his way closer to Meyerson bobbing and weaving, his body turning towards the musician as his head whipped back. The vocabulary developed into pique balances that melted from the spine and spritely jumps that traveled out more than up. Thatcher was Gene Kelley-esque in the best way—elegant and grounded.

Wheeler, also known as drag performer Lady Camden, brought his skill in ballet and drag to “The Filthy Fifteen.” Composer Nicole Lizée created the score of the same name in 2016, and was inspired by the Parents’ Music Resource Center’s 1980s list of “offensive songs.” Snippets of news footage and pop music played recorded as Meyerson added texture with a percussive score that employed found objects. Wheeler’s choreography began with Thatcher and Meyerson walking a square-shaped screen to center stage. Purple lights hit the screen and shadow play commenced. The duo interacted before Meyerson’s focussed on the music making. Thatcher took on many personas: a prude, an exhibitionist, a dom in heels and a corset, a superhero in a mask and cape. Books were torn apart, records wielded like trophies then dropped, costumes thrown into the air like a fabric firework. “The Filthy Fifteen” highlighted the futility of censorship in the face of creativity.

Dani Rowe and Thatcher opened and closed the recital’s second half, respectively. Their solos were tonally distinct but shared a sense of searching. Rowe’s “A Noticeable Pause” began with Thatcher and Meyerson ritually uncovering a marimba. Meyerson took up the mallets and began playing Danny Clay’s “Still Cycles” (a collection of loops built from fragments of a Hayden chaconne) as Thatcher stood behind him with his hands hovering over Meyerson’s like an energetic echo. Thatcher left Meyerson in a series of triplets. His body would tighten and release as angular arm phrases accumulated. Spoking arms transitioned into port de bras; Rowe quoted the beginning of Balanchine’s “Serenade.” Rowe is a skillful narrative choreographer, and while “A Noticeable Pause” is non-narrative, her ability to bring characterization to movement is superlative. To me, this solo had the richest depth of performance quality.

“Parallel Play” by Myles Thatcher and Andy Meyerson. Image courtesy of the artists

For Thatcher’s “Valediction,” Meyerson traded up to a grander marimba to play J.S. Bach’s Chaconne from the Partita in D Minor for Violin Solo, which Meyerson and Jack Van Geem arranged for the instrument. It was virtuosic. Any doubts about a marimba in place of a violin were swiftly quelled. The arrangement and performance were dynamic and invigorating.

Thatcher dropped his pants to wear black ballet tights and put on ballet slippers. The solo existed in the liminal space between effort and resignation. Thatcher girded himself into balletic positions before exhaling and pacing the stage or slumping over. His gestures, focus and direction struggled to align. He jogged in place, ran into the audience, and hugged someone sitting in the front row before removing the ballet slippers and re-covering his tights with pants. “Valediction” read less like a farewell to ballet technique and more like a cessation of sublimating oneself to a perfect ideal.

The success of “Parallel Play” as a recital was due in part to the venue. The Taube Atrium Theater at the SF War Memorial Veterans Building is an intimate space with limited technical capacities, which worked in the program’s favor. Thatcher and Meyerson were on stage the entire evening, bringing the audience into the transitions between works. The pared down lighting design encouraged the sense of familiarity between the performers and the audience. “Parallel Play” was a well-produced program featuring professionals in their prime. But the combination of the recital format and the venue had me leave the theater feeling not wowed, but something rarer: completely charmed.

Garth Grimball

Garth Grimball is a writer and dancer based in Oakland, CA. He is a contributor to Dance Media, SF Examiner, Nob Hill Gazette and more. He is an authorized teacher of Cunningham Technique. He is currently on faculty at City College of San Francisco and is the editor of ODC Dance Stories.

comments

Featured

REVIEWS | Garth Grimball

Recital Revival

Few established artists hold recitals anymore. The word “recital” feels both elementary and antiquated, evoking either children parading across an auditorium stage or a nineteenth-century drawing room where the gentry whisper secrets around a pianoforte.

Continua a leggere

REVIEWS | Victoria Looseleaf

Crash Out Queens

It’s not often that one gets to hear a soprano recital in an up-close-and-personal setting. And it’s even rarer that said soprano has a pair of dancers moving about the stage as part of the performance.

Continua a leggere