Merce Cunningham's piece Rainforest was choreographed in 1968. The poor quality of the old video is a trade off for the privilege of actually seeing Cunningham himself dance. The set (giant, Mylar pillows filled with helium) were from an Andy Warhol instillation entitled Silver Clouds. The costumes, created by Jasper Johns after Cunningham refused Warhol's request that the dancers perform naked, were layered and torn flesh colored leotards and tights. The music was an original score by David Tudor. Choreographically, the piece is classic Cunningham at its best. The movements, whether expansive of minute, explore the range of the human body in relation to negative space, resulting in exceptional sculptural forms. Warhol's set is perfect because it heightens the reaction of the space to the bodies. The silver pillows physicalize the air, and thus the audience can perceive the dancers' interactions with the stage's negative space visually.
Despite the fact that Merce Cunningham adamantly refuses to ascribe meaning to his works, I found there was something evocative about Rainforest. The title alone suggests a natural or primal element, which resonates with the dancing. Even when performers in Rainforest are performing onstage together or in duets, each individual remains isolated, as if there is no human connection between them. Like others of Cunningham's works, aspects of Rainforest's choreography seem to allude to animals, especially birds. Instead of a performance, this piece is like a brief glimpse into a exotic habitat where lonely individuals inhabit a strange landscape built of silver pillows.