Remix - Algger - Hello Dance
This choreography has quite a profound theme: it is about being goth, hot, and gay as fuck. The song is a remix of a unique Tokyo Gegegay creation, the exact details of which are fairly complicated, so I will save that discussion for the end. It is a futuristic, cinematic song with a prominent bass beat, fast tempo, and plenty of sound effects. In this performance, the dancers are clad all in black with dark lipstick, and red bar lights accent the otherwise unidimensional, dim white wash. Algger is wearing the skirt-over-pants and leather collar that are emblematic of his costuming style in this time period. Overall, the vibe is of some perversely alluring hell.
The structural arc of this composition is a bit unusual! The initial part, making up about ⅔ of the dance, is aggressive and a bit scary. Algger’s facial expressions are threatening and he stares forcefully ahead, occasionally grimacing or opening his eyes wide to heighten the effect. These character decisions synergize with the monstrous movements and shapes of the dance itself. In this first section, there is a lot of dynamic movement on the vertical axis of the stage, as well as a notable approach along the Z axis toward the camera. By contrast, the final third, which constitutes the climax of the piece, is fairly still, and movements are concentrated in the upper half of the body. The effect is like an anthropological expedition into studying the culture of these lovely, demonic beings. One first comes to understand their more obvious features, and the true nature of their intricate power only appears after sufficient introduction. Fascinatingly, the first part contains more imagery concerning nonhuman biology or anatomy, but it is the second part that elevates the choreography to otherworldliness.
Visual representations of monstrous identity abound in this piece. In the first image of this dance, Algger contorts his face into a tetanic grimace. In such a prettyboy-dominated world, this is a choice I respect– an unappealing, off-putting face that dares you to feel the seduction of the work, despite its ghastly look.
Early in the choreography, the dancers approach the audience, stomping and quickly whirling both hands with the palms out. It’s quite difficult to achieve smooth, symmetrical, complete rotation like this, especially given the positioning of the upper arm. This is an aggressive move, and the dancers almost seem to menace the viewer. Even in a recording, you can feel the energy crashing into you like a wave front.
Indeed, there are many monster shapes in this choreography. The imagery appears both in static arrangements, as in hands formed into claws, and in inhuman movements along unusual vectors. Throughout, Algger tends to maintain a fierce gaze toward the viewer, like a creature defending its lair– or, perhaps, its brood. I like this move from early in the dance, accented by a terrifying glower, which combines gradient and incremental types of motion.
The smooth downward press has such an implacability, like a hydraulic vice. In contrast, the stepwise movements of the hands almost resemble something crumpling, or yielding to an immense weight. It is a heavy, powerful visual, and the hunched torso position creates such a feeling of enclosure, of something towering over you.
The most literal expression of monster shapes comes right before the short break that splits the two parts of this choreography, as if to express a final transformation:
The clawed hands are a nice touch, and the movement closely matches a very fast stylistic stutter in the music. It must have been completely hallucinatory to watch in person. Then, a hand design that is common to urban dance and usually used to denote a crown is twisted to form demons’ horns.
In the latter part of the choreography, identifiable monster anatomy gives way for a more abstract or surrealist depiction. Instead of “that’s not the shapes humans are,” one begins to think “humans don’t move like that.” Angles and vectors are precisely replicated, limbs move with an eerie inertia, joints turn more times than they should.
I just really love this design
The shapes here produce such a unique and exciting impression. The energy of this sequence closely matches the source material (more on that in a bit), but it is still unique to Algger and cohesive with the vision of this piece. The hand shape here resembles a traditional Catholic gesture of blessing, almost literally co-imbricated with the darker gestures of the dance, a tense and contradictory relationship that is itself traditional within the goth aesthetic. What really captures me about this moment is how solid the square shape feels, and the lovely juxtaposition of delicately arranged hands with the odd and geometric movements of the arms and wrists.
Illusion is a powerful tool for a choreographer, and this one is executed beautifully. Pushed along by the sharp sound effect cue, each angle here appears with a quick precision. How can a wrist turn four times in succession like that? There is an answer that exists in reality, but it’s really better to let the monstrous magic envelop you: The wrist turns like that because it belongs to something nonhuman, supernatural.
This swirling crown design ends the dance. It feels almost plasmatic as it refers back to the solid, horned crown design that closes the first section. Perhaps it doesn’t call to mind any common archetypes of creature shape, but it is unmistakable as an otherworldly icon; a cloud of dark energy, perhaps, or some kind of twisted halo. As a matter of elevation, it is an electrifying consummation of both the connotations of otherworldliness and the serpentine hand-tracks that characterize this piece.
My favorite moment from this choreography is this quick twirling wrist move, which serves as a rounded contrast to the flat, angular, slicing motions that come before it. Upon first glance, it is a fulgent and pushy design, remarkable for its dizzying speed. But what I really love about it is the extra layer of expression that Algger gives to this already stunning design. Watch closely:
The fluttering hands are first a bit stiff as they begin to orbit each other, and then– as the wrists open up in their second rotation, so too do the digits, which take on a softly splayed shape. Delicate moments like this, nestled within powerful images, give the choreography its depth and allure.
To fully understand this piece, it is instructive to pay close attention to the source material, a Tokyo Gegegay performance on a Japanese variety show in 2016. Reportedly, the present production is a re-recording of choreography that Algger designed in that same year. Perhaps that has something to do with why this piece lacks the complexity and balance that is characteristic of his later work. Still, one senses a depth of devotion: In Algger’s choreography, many of the moves by Tokyo Gegegay are referenced, paraphrased, twisted, elaborated, irradiated.
Tokyo Gegegay is a very charming music and dance group that is a significant artistic influence for Algger. They rose to prominence through a dancing competition show, DANCE@HERO. Tokyo Gegegay’s productions are kooky and frightening, a combination that works much better than you’d think. It’s also a group that’s very, very gay. Unsurprisingly. I strongly relate to Mikey’s lust for playing with gender and also his need to sometimes just say ‘gay’ really loud. As a sheltered Western homo, I wonder what it’s like to be gay or genderqueer or trans in East Asia, especially China. I feel immense compassion and solidarity with people like us, all over the world. Though it’s less overtly oppressive than it could be, even I live under a state that would strongly prefer that I not exist anymore. I hope things will get better for us, though I know for some people, they won’t. Okay, time to stop being maudlin on main! In conclusion: Tokyo Gegegay is a very fun citypop/dance group, and if you like those things, or gender, surrealist performance art, or Algger, or being gay, they are worth checking out! Mikey is an icon, and Bow is my favorite.
The original source of this remix (as far as I can tell) is a New Year’s performance by Tokyo Gegegay on Japan’s Dance Performance from 2016. It’s fun and silly and celebratory and strange, and several of the designs in this performance are directly referenced by Algger’s choreography. Algger's work is original, but it is undoubtedly a fervent homage.
A notable feature of both choreographies is flat hands that swish through the air or whirl above the head. They appear as a central motif in both performances, acting as a throughline that arises repeatedly, given different context and connotation each time.
Within the exuberant atmosphere of a Tokyo Gegegay performance, this “monster hands” shape takes on a different mood. Softened by the group’s giddy charm and its cute sailor costumes, this very similar movement takes on a significantly more playful tone than in Algger’s performance. Still, this iteration shares that same exhilarating, attractive threat in common with the move under Algger’s direction.
Bow is so cute here. I love this moment. As in Algger’s choreography, this image marks a shift in the dance, this time a literal spatial shift. I think it’s interesting that the moment is an intentional rest, a slowing that is meant for laughs in the Tokyo Gegegay performance, while the Hello Dance version blends it more smoothly with the surrounding ideas and emotional tone. Of course, Tokyo Gegegay’s performance is meant to be more humorous, and each approach works well in its place. I love the gravity of Bow’s movements here; you really feel the power of each step, even as she plays it for a joke.
There are even more elements to the Tokyo Gegegay performance that are referenced by Algger, such as the triangle hands shape that mimics the group’s logo, or the gesture of benediction being applied in alien contexts.
So, too, are there notable points of departure, as in the denouement of Tokyo Gegegay’s choreography, which becomes much more lively and powerful, with dramatic leg movements incorporated as well, that heighten the excitement of this effervescent piece. In contrast, Algger’s heavy, menacing work ensnares the viewer within its atmosphere, remaining static with regards to the vertical axis of the stage as it comes to an end.
The music for this Tokyo Gegegay performance appears to be an original mix of several songs and sound effects. A major component is an existing remix of Not So Hard by Switch. As an ekphrastic work, Algger’s piece is also in conversation with another choreography from Mikey in his capacity as GD5 dance studio master.
Mikey has choreographed to this simple remix at GH5 dance studio, and that choreography includes concepts, like this over-the-shoulder design, that appear in Algger’s choreography but not the Japan’s Dance Performance show, as well as some concepts that occur in all three. Mikey’s presence has an incredible magnetic force here, his confident poise well-earned.
I might… I might be TOO gay…
The provenance of the music for this dance of Algger's is rather convoluted, then: it is a remix of a remix of a remix. For Algger’s piece, the BPM is raised significantly, from about 135 BPM to 165, and cut to its most impactful sequence due to the shorter length of the choreography. Increasing the BPM feels like a flex, and the movements here are very fast, but still clean. The higher tempo of this piece also lends itself to the greater aggression of Algger’s work. Temporal compression here creates almost an anxiety in comparison to the loose and free-flowing Tokyo Gegegay performance.
In this choreography, Algger extracts and distills some fundamental truths about Tokyo Gegegay, and about being a gay weirdo within a cultural context that is conservative, gender restrictive, and homophobic. Tokyo Gegegay tends to approach the difficulty of being nonconformist from an absurd, dreamy perspective. In his own way, Algger has chosen a more familiar metaphor for representing otherness: It’s unexpectedly earnest, strangely touching. In both pieces, and in Algger and Mikey’s work more generally, the spirit of the work begs you to be drawn to it, even as it performatively alienates. Within a snarl, within a psychedelic frenzy, a lonely and vulnerable Other cries out in search of recognition.
