Dancers pivot to filmmaking
S.F. couple put movie plans in motion, staging short ballets for fans on social media
In its 25year history, Smuin Contemporary Ballet has never done a story ballet that was filmed on location for a wide release. But two of its veteran dancers have done just that with a story ballet about cooking pasta Bolognese in five choreographed scenes, with one shaken-notstirred margarita and a headlong dash to the corner market for missing ingredients.
“Recipe for Disaster,” recorded on an iPhone and released in blackandwhite on Instagram and YouTube, captures a duet between senior company member Terez Dean Orr and retired company member John Speed Orr in a tight and riveting 2 minutes and 15 seconds. They’re married and have been sheltering in place together since the coronavirus pandemic hit the Bay Area, which is why they were able to stage a ballet without having to stand 6 feet apart.
“One thing that is incredible in this moment is seeing how other artists are able to reach out to their audience from their homes and in a different way than the stage.”
Terez Dean Orr, Smuin Ballet dancer
“It’s a creative and fun way to continue to perform and engage with the community,” said
Terez, who was midrehearsal for Smuin’s spring dance series when the studio was abruptly closed by the shelterinplace order issued by San Francisco Mayor London Breed on March 16. That evening, she and her husband had drinks with Elliott Morin, whom John had known since kindergarten in Corte Madera.
John now sells real estate and Morin is a creative director with a video production company, 3Motion Creative, in San Francisco.
By the following morning, all three 32yearolds were out of work and were free to act on a longstanding plan to make dance for film.
“I’ve been thinking about moving away from narrative, dialoguedriven film and doing something that is movement oriented,” Morin told The Chronicle on a fourway call.
Without once meeting in person, the trio started a production company that uses as its set and stage the Orrs’ rental home in the secondfloor flat of a 1912 building with bay windows and southern light, the only lighting they use.
Their first collaboration, “Shelter in Pace,” involves the morning ritual of John pulling his wife out of bed by the arms. They then move into the hallway and the dining and living rooms. The carved wooden banister comes into play, in place of the barre in a dance studio. “It makes our apartment look huge,” said Terez.
That short film was seen by 5,500 viewers on Instagram when it debuted March 31. “When we released that film we had people reaching out to us expressing the joy that they received from it, given the circumstances,” she recalled.
This led to the sequel “Recipe for Disaster,” staged in the one room they hadn’t used the first time around: the original centuryold kitchen, unremodeled.
They blocked out scenes and sent them to Morin via Dropbox, the San Franciscobased file hosting service. Morin would then relay his own notes, by storyboard and through video chat.
From the kitchen, they go down the stairs and out the door, presumably for the first time in six weeks. The dancers are so happy at the sight of sunlight that they do a sidebyside synchronized shuffle at the top of their stairs, at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday.
“I grew up watching ‘Singin’ in the Rain,’ ” John said. “That’s what I was going for.”
From the steps they hit the streets, which took some doing because the camera had to be set up on its tripod, in the middle of 19th and Noe streets. They had no street closure permit, and they also had no timer. One of them would hit record on the iPhone, then dash into the scene.
“Cars would stop and spectate and they would let us do our bit,” Terez said. “These people are seeing dance in the middle of the street, which is rare, and sometimes they would applaud. We were bringing happiness to a day that might have otherwise been monotonous.”
Their corner store, Noe Hill Market, got a part with the owner behind the counter when John walked in, his face masked like a bandit, to get the forgotten shaker of salt that got this whole story going. On the boardedup windows are the words, “we are open,” spraypainted by Terez as a neighborly gesture apart from the production.
When the couple leave the market, they see that their flat is on fire, by special effect. They’d forgotten about the pasta water left on the burner while all of this exuberant dancing was going on.
The twominute short took three full days to film and edit and was posted to 3Motion Creative’s Instagram and YouTube pages on May 19.
“The message is stay safe and stay creative,” Morin said.
Smuin is at the forefront of this, having posted its own video, “Social Disdancing,” featuring all of its 16 company members dancing at home. On Wednesdays, Smuin streams a different performance from its repertoire, and then there are all the personal projects.
“One thing that is incredible in this moment is seeing how other artists are able to reach out to their audience from their homes and in a different way than the stage,” Terez said.
The Orrs still have not seen Morin since the night of March 16, but a third production is already under way — though their rental flat is used up.
“We might hit the road,” Terez said.