Tag: Alvin Ailey

Posted on

BEST OF AILEY AT BAM

 

With the insanity of ballet season (see this Macaulay article — at the beginning he very accurately describes what it’s like to be a balletomane in NY right now!), I unfortunately was not able to make it out to Brooklyn to see Alvin Ailey’s week-long wrap-up of its year-and-a-half-long 50th Anniversary celebration. I was very sorry to have missed it. So, in lieu of my own write-up, I’m linking to Gia Kourlas’s NYTimes review of opening night. She lauds two of my favorite dancers, Linda Celeste Sims (above, in photo by Andrea Mohin of the NYT) and Amos J. Machanic, and one of my favorite dances of all time Revelations. So very sorry I had to miss it all. Until December…

Posted on

ALVIN AILEY II

 

Last night for the first time I saw Alvin Ailey II, Alvin Ailey’s studio company comprised mainly of young dancers. Wow! The dancers were so remarkable — all of them! I couldn’t believe it. Usually when you see the studio company the dancers are up and coming, not quite as good as the ones in the full touring company, but these dancers truly amazed me. No wonder so many go on to join the main troupe.

There were four pieces: three modern and one jazzy, classical Ailey (which I really loved). First was Valse (pictured above), by a young, highly accomplished choreographer, Sidra Bell, with modern music that had lots of percussion (which I liked) by Dennis Bell. This piece reminded me a bit of Jorma Elo with a lot of movement alternating between sharp and staccato and more flowing, and lots of jagged shapes and rather intensely-thrust lines created in part by hyperextended arms and legs (which I like, but realize is very modern and not to everyone’s tastes).

Josh Johnson in particular stood out to me. He’s a tall dancer with long long lines, like Antonio Douthit and Yannick Lebrun and Amos Machanic in Alvin Ailey. Maybe because of his long lines I noticed him more here, but he’d reach up skyward with one arm, then grab it with the other hand and bring it back down, as if the arm was out of control and he needed to bring it back in line. This kind of mechanical movement, like the body struggling to break free from robotic-like movements imposed on it, is what reminded me of Elo. Costumes were also intriguingly incongruous: male dancers wore black tops with high necklines and puffed sleeves that looked king-ly, along with spandex biking-shorts; women wore corset-looking tops with ballet-like tulle skirts. It was an interesting dance, definitely with a dark undercurrent, like Balanchine’s Valse.

Second was “The Calling”, a short section from Jessica Lang’s Splendid Isolation II. Fana Fraser danced this solo beautifully. She wore a white gown with a long long train that spread out in all directions across the floor, nearly taking up the stage. She began with her back toward the audience, but turned somehow under that dress without disturbing the intricate fan-like pattern made by the flared skirt on the floor, and lowered and raised her legs so that it looked like she was melting into the ground, then rising up from it. The rest of the dance consisted of lovely arm movement while her feet remained stationery.

Next was Hope (The Final Rise) by AAII artistic director Troy Powell.

 

 

This was one of my favorites, but it’s hard to explain why! The piece was full of energy and there was a lot of very difficult movement, with fast kicks and whizzing spins going into difficult-looking lifts. I felt like this was the artistic director’s test for the dancers, and they came through with flying colors 🙂 The music, by David Chesky, had a strong, powerful, even militant feel to it, with a voice chanting, “Rise up, children, right now.”

And then, the evening ended with my favorite piece of the night, the very well-liked George Faison’s Movin’ On.

 

 

This was a jazzy balletic piece — a combination of both classical ballet and jazz steps — that was wonderfully reminiscent of classic Alvin Ailey. It takes place in a night club, much like Night Creature and Blues Suite, and consists of a set of unique and endearing characters just hanging out, playing music, flirting with each other, dancing the night away, playing starlet, having a good time. There are three men — members of the jazz band — who jump atop chairs and move just like the instruments. There’s a sweetly arrogant Night Creature-like woman who fancies herself a jazz starlet, and struts and glides and jetes across the stage just like one. And there’s a ballerina who becomes attracted to the street boy. I loved the two who danced the latter couple in particular. Both — Megan Jakel and Jarvis McKinley–  stood out to me all night. McKinley moves very well, especially in the more jazzy movements. And I thought Jakel, along with Fana Fraser, were very charismatic. They just had that something that drew your eye to them. And Josh Johnson, who danced one of the musicians, has such a fluidity. The way his arms waved about, they were like water. At one point, Faison himself read (offstage) a Langston Hughes poem, Harlem, which gave the whole thing a rather sobering feel. Like all the fun and frolic was masking a deeper tragedy. Judging by the mass of applause, the rest of the audience loved this dance as well.

I noticed in the program that S. Epatha Merkerson from Law and Order helped to underwrite the costumes for the production. I remember she’d read a poem (onstage) in a recent Complexions piece that I loved. Who knew she was so involved in dance!

Posted on

ARDEN COURT AND ESPLANADE: THE APPEAL OF PAUL TAYLOR

 

So, a little season wrap-up of Paul Taylor Dance Company before my computer crashes (was trying to avoid taking it in, I’m so dependent on it, but think I’m going to have to…)

I liked many of the dances — the 60s era Changes (set to music by the Papas and the Mamas), Mercuric Tidings, the hilarious Offenbach Overtures, but my favorites ended up being Arden Court and Esplanade — which I think are beloved by many Paul Taylor fans. And I can see why. They are beautiful dances, very lyrical, very musical, but also very American, and with a good deal of humor. Both contained movement that was light and lyrical, but very grounded. Dancers do a lot of quick traversing of the stage (particularly in Esplanade) and they run with knees deeply bent, toes pointed forward, hair and garments blowing in the breeze they create, making for grand, sweeping patterns. Knees are often bent in a jump, feet flexed during a kick. It’s almost the antithesis of ballet — at least classical. These are real, human bodies — not ethereal beings seemingly suspended in the air, heaven-bound– but people doing human things. It’s like a celebration of being human. It has a kind of poetry to it, although not the same poetry as ballet.

There’s also a good deal of humor. A man will lie down and a woman will run up and over him, usually playfully. At one point during Arden Court, all dancers are lined up at the back of the stage, raising their arms, holding hands. But one man chooses to do a handstand instead, lifting his feet high in the air. The dancers immediately to his right and left look at him like he’s nuts, then kind of shrug, laugh, and lock fingers with his toes. It’s amusing and the audience giggles but it’s also kind of a celebration of American ideals: free-thinking, independence, individuality.

Both are more “movement for movement’s sake” pieces rather than linear narratives, although in Esplanade, the mood shifts several times from sweetly frolicking to more sobering, the more sobering parts seeming to tell the story of a family member — a daughter — who is lost; the mother fraught with worry and then sorrow, the father searching desperately for her. But then the mood shifts back, becomes more cheerful and celebratory, as male dancers toss the women between them, like a game of catch (in which the women are willing, excited participants), then dancers run crazy fast across stage, sliding when they reach a corner, like they’re having the times of their lives. I was thinking when I saw those slides how much they looked like runners sliding into home base in baseball. I’d live-tweeted on my way home from the theater that I loved that dance, and when I got home there was a reply to me from one of my Twitter friends saying how much they loved the “baseball slides.” I love it!

There’s also this earlier part where a dancer kind of hop-scotches over a group of dancers lying prone, shown here:

 

Anyway, I really enjoyed the season and am very thankful I got to go so many times. I’m a lifelong balletomane and I’ve always seen modern as kind of  “incorrect ballet.” No turnout, frequently bent knees, no pointe — how can it be?! (Alvin Ailey had its own special appeal, with its combo of African and American and its unique themes). But now I see the beauty of American.

So, if I’m slow in posting or approving comments for the next week, it may be because my computer had to go to hospital…

Posted on

Doesn’t Dance, Like All Art, Come From the Soul?

 

Sunday evening I attended another Works & Process event at the Guggenheim. These programs are so fantastic — they’re designed to kind of make the average person an insider, to give you a behind-the-scenes view of how art or cultural programming is created. Anyway, this one was on female choreographers and American Ballet Theater. Unbenownst to me (and most I think), ABT in conjunction with Altria has set up the Women’s Choreography Project, whose mission is to encourage more young women to venture into choreography — an excellent aim given that there are so startlingly and inscrutably few female choreographers, at least in ballet.

The women participants whose work we saw were: Gemma Bond, Misty Copeland, Nicole Graniero, Elizabeth Mertz, and Xiomara Reyes — all ABT ballerinas, and all, except Xiomara and Misty, members of the corps de ballet. (Xiomara is a principal and Misty a soloist.) It’s not a given or a demand of course that these ballerinas will necessarily become choreographers, but the program, led by Stephen Pier, exists for them to explore their talents, ultimately decide whether choreography is for them. It will be interesting to see, if programs like these proliferate, if it leads to more women dancemakers.

Anyway, it was really interesting watching Pier work with the women, but, to be honest, a bit confusing. At the beginning, Pier defined choreography for the audience as the movement of bodies through time and space. “That’s all,” he said. Then, he had Gemma Bond demonstrate a phrase she’d been working on.  She walked to the middle of the stage, smiling bashfully, and did a short, abstract lyrical segment. Then, Pier told her to focus on the back wall, to look at the shape of three windows, the lights coming through them, their geometry, and some writing on the wall underneath them (which I think was something like a dedication to whoever funded the auditorium, in small letters).

Bond used her hand to shield her eyes from the stage lights, and squinted up toward the windows. We all turned around, followed her gaze to the back of the room. She then laughed, shrugged her shoulders, and gamely re-performed the phrase. “It’s the same thing,” said the woman next to me. But I didn’t think it was. I thought she used the stage a little more; the pattern was now more horizontal than vertical, which went along with the three, horizontally aligned windows. She did exactly what was asked of her, I thought. Then Pier asked her, “well, what are you going to do with that red light coming out from the middle window?” She looked back at the windows, focused for a moment on the middle one, then, seemingly concentrating hard, repeated the phrase again. This time it was the same horizontal pattern as before, but now she stepped forward in the middle, kind of punctuating the movement with a little dot, making both vertical and horizontal use of the stage. “Now, that’s different,” said the lady next to me.  I agreed, but thought this difference was far more subtle than the last.

It was really interesting, but I think we were all intrigued because we knew exactly what was going on, what the choreographer was using to guide her. If we didn’t, I think it would just have been three slightly different patterns with no real meaning.

Pier then gave the women a pair of opposites to work with: fast and slow, light and dark, sharp and soft. All chose sharp and soft, except for renegade Misty, who chose freedom and constraint — which wasn’t one of Pier’s categories! (At one point, he asked each what they found hardest about the project and Misty said it was keeping within the rules. I love her!) Anyway, I looked deeply at the dances, trying hard to concentrate, to see the contrasts, but couldn’t always find them.

But as I was watching this, I was thinking of what I’d seen earlier in the day — the rehearsal footage of Alvin Ailey choreographing on his dancer Donna Wood Sanders, which I wrote about here. How he told her, you’re a prisoner, you can’t escape, you’re struggling, trying, let me see that. And this dance, Masekela Langage, about a group of people living under systematized racial oppression, was obviously very close to his heart.

I realize Pier was only giving these women exercises, that he wasn’t saying this was all there was to choreography. At least I hope that’s what he meant. He had said choreography was only about the movement of bodies through time and space. Is that all? I couldn’t help but get the feeling that Ailey’s world was so different from that of a lot of contemporary ballet, where it’s all about geometric patterns, interesting shapes, use of space, use of different rhythms, and not so much about creating something from the heart. I mean, literary writers and artists have to create because they have something to tell the world, something they find deeply meaningful. Although this was obviously only a glimpse into their process, I didn’t get the sense that these women were being encouraged to explore their visions of the world and learn to make movement that emanates from that place. It makes me wonder how most contemporary choreographers work — if they’re just thinking of light and shadow and abstract oppositions and geometry; if they’re not concerned with trying to tell us something.

Anyway, I have to say Xiomara (photo up top) completely blew me away with her work. She danced a lyrical balletic piece, but it had a kind of hippy-ness to it, a kind of swaying Gyspy-like, Latin feel. She danced with so much emotion. Her facial expressions almost reminded me of a flamenco dancer’s. I’ve never seen her dance like that before. I feel like perhaps she’s someone who’s better at dancing her own work than classical ballet. And perhaps she’d be good at creating work for other contemporary ballet dancers like her. Maybe she’ll be our next female ballet choreographer?

They also showed pieces by women who’ve choreographed for ABT: Lauri Stallings (whose Citizen I wrote about here) and Aszure Barton, whose work I’d never seen before and really loved. ABT II (the studio company, comprised of teenaged dancers) performed her Barbara, a sweet ballet that didn’t really have one single linear narrative, but had a lot of little subplots involving cutely intriguing characters.

 

On an endnote, Irlan Silva  — whoa! Methinks he is going to be in the main company soon…

Posted on

Alvin Ailey Day at Lincoln Center Film Society

p2011898

I spent most of my day yesterday at the Walter Reade theater at Lincoln Center watching films about Alvin Ailey: rare footage of interviews and rehearsals with the legendary choreographer, and of him as a young dancer in the 50s and early 60s dancing with the equally legendary Carmen de Lavallade, along with later coverage of Judith Jamison and others dancing, newer PBS specials on the company, and even a couple of panel discussions with filmmakers, collaborative artists, and dancers who worked with Ailey. What a treat! The all-day event was co-produced by the company (AAADT) and the Film Society of Lincoln Center in honor both of the company’s 50th anniversary and the start of Black History Month.

p2011897

First off, there was a collection of vintage posters in the art gallery right across the hall from the theater. (top two pics above, taken by me.) There was also a little reception with complimentary wine. Complimentary strong wine (which, I hadn’t eaten much and, well, probably got carried away excitedly tweeting over seeing some of the dancers there — namely

Yannick Lebrun — wearing gold earrings in both ears and dressed very stylishly in one of those skinny scrunchy bubble-jackets, baggy jeans and bright red-soled sneakers — it’s always fun to see your favorite dancers outside of the theater, just dressed like ‘normal people’. Also there were  Renee Robinson, Matthew Rushing, Vernard Gilmore, and Hope Boykin, and choreographer Robert Battle. Renee and Yannick both showed up to the church event they had last year and I love that both the newest company member and the dancer who’s been there the longest show up to these kinds of things).

Anyway, the first set of films consisted of a movie directed by Orlando Bagwell made for PBS called “A Hymn for Ailey.” I’d never seen it before, but it was a filmed version of Judith Jamison’s dance / theater piece for the stage, Hymn, which she choreographed for the stage not long after Alvin Ailey died (of AIDS, in 1989). I’d never seen that either and I wish the company would stage it again. It was filmed mainly in the church where Ailey’s funeral was held, the magnificient Saint John the Divine. Dancers danced to a series of spoken word pieces recited by playwright / actor Anna Deavere Smith, who was, of course, a very powerful presence in the film. At times she’d stand next to the dancer — at one point Renee Robinson — and speak about body image, as Renee danced her words, and interacted with her at the same time, at one point seeming about to lash out on a negative thought, as if she were a mirror. At another, she spoke about Ailey’s artistry as an excellent male dancer who’s name I didn’t know belted out the movement with great passion. Or, one of the parts that stayed with me for a while — Smith took on the voice of an African woman talking about how much easier it is to be “real,” to be oneself, back in Africa; how here everyone has to wear a mask to survive. It kind of reminded me of Invisible Man. Both the performance and the words were very moving.

p2011893

(there was a panel discussion after the Bagwell film, including from right to left, company rehearsal director Ronni Favors, filmmaker Bagwell, Jamison, and Deavere Smith). Judith Jamison is so charismatic, I’m sure it goes without saying. No matter what she’s talking about, you just want to hang on to her every word.

But the biggest highlight of that program — of the day for me — was footage of Alvin Ailey rehearsing a female dancer, Donna Wood Sanders, for her role in Masekela Langage (depicting denizens of a bar, set simultaneously in 1960s race-torn Chicago and apartheid-era South Africa, or anywhere oppression exists). I can’t tell you how much I got from this and I really really wish companies would do this more — would show audiences rehearsals and give us a glimpse into the artistic process. He was telling her, you’re an older woman, you’re stuck, trapped in this bar, in this place, you can’t escape and your life is dreary but that doesn’t mean you’re giving up. And, as she’d do certain things in the choreography, like push her arms out and step backward, he’d say to her, “let me see you in a prison, trying desperately to escape, but you can’t.” And she’d do the movement in such a way that that’s exactly what you saw. It was brilliant. And so powerful. I sometimes wonder how much is lost when a choreographer like that dies, if the entirety of his rehearsal and notes on direction are not kept. Dancers should of course add their own interpretations, but not without reviewing the master’s directions again for guidance. Now I want to see this ballet again.

 

Also included in the programs I saw were an interview Harry Belafonte conducted with Alvin Ailey, vintage footage of dancers Carmen de Lavallade, James Truitte, and Ailey performing classic works by Ailey’s mentor, Lester Horton. I particularly enjoyed The Beloved, depicting a relationship fraught with tension but compassion that kind of reminded me of some of Ulysses Dove’s work.  (A program later in the day included films of some of his dances, but unfortunately I couldn’t stay).

A final highlight of the day for me was watching vintage footage of Alvin dancing Porgy and Bess with Carmen de Lavallade. Learn about that story (originally an opera) and its history here. Ailey danced the part of the the man who threatens the crippled Porgy and seduces but mistreats Porgy’s beloved Bess. I’d never actually seen much of Alvin Ailey dancing and this was such a treat. As someone said in one of the films — I think it was Jamison but am not sure — “He WASN”T skinny!,” which made me laugh, but she’s right.

 

He was a meaty man. And he had hefty strength and ferocity to his dancing, a virility that was simultaneously sexy and threatening and that I totally didn’t expect since, by the way he speaks and from what I’ve read about him, he seems to have been such a soft, gentle man, and given that most of the male characters he created in his ballets seem like soft, gentle men as well, full of vulnerability and sympathy. Plus, with the possible exception of Glenn Allen Sims, no one  in the current company really dances like that. Not that that’s a bad thing – -just a different aesthetic.

I wish I could have stayed for the full day, but I went to ABT’s female choreographers program at the Guggenheim, which I’ll write about soon. This company always makes me so happy and inspired.

Posted on

Alvin Ailey Day at Film Society This Sunday

This Sunday, February 1, in honor of the start of Black History Month, the Film Society at Lincoln Center will be showing a full afternoon and evening of films about Alvin Ailey and the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater in the Walter Reade Theater. Onstage guests will include playwright and actor Anna Deavere Smith, dancer Donna Wood Sanders, filmmakers Orlando Bagwell and Patricia Birch who will present their films and answer questions afterward, and of course Judith Jamison. There’s also a poster exhibit in the Walter Reade lobby.

Sounds like a wonderful day! I can’t make all of the films but hope to see some. Go here for a full list of screenings.

Posted on

Today is Here!

 

As one of my Twitter friends said, “Feel like a kid on Christmas Eve. When I wake up, the world will be glorious, full of hope & promise & wonderous things to discover! Obama!”

 

It’s actually very early in the morning (like, still last night), but when I get up, I’ll probably be adding to this post, live-blogging the events throughout the day as I watch them (sadly, only on TV)

Happy happy day, everyone!

So, I’m watching on TV now but am thinking of going to one of the common areas in NY to watch on a big screen TV. I know I’ll be cold (I think the Apollo theater is the only inside venue and I’m sure it’s full by now) and probably won’t see as much, but sometimes it’s just fun for a sense of community.

I’m actually liking NBC’s coverage better than CNN’s. NBC has some knowledgeable people on — I liked the presidential historian who talked about the first inauguration (Washington’s of course) and the most difficult transition of power (1953, Eisenhower) — CNN is just interviewing people and the commentators are saying such cliched things: “It’s a new dawn, “it’s a new day,” “this is historical,” etc. What would David Foster Wallace have said…

Continue reading “Today is Here!”

Posted on

Masekela Langage and the Brilliance of Revelations

 

I managed to be sick for the last two weeks of December, so, horribly, I wasn’t able to go to as many Alvin Ailey performances as I usually do. Now, I’m depressed and feeling like I really missed out. Especially since I was just told how excellent the season finale was last night. Sob sob.

I did get to see all the major things though: the revivals (Blues Suite and Masekela Langage); the two premieres (Go in Grace and Festa Barocca), which I wrote about here and here and here; Suite Otis, a fun piece set to Otis Redding and comprised of jazzy all-male and all-female ensemble numbers and cute vignettes of couples in various stages of a relationship; and of course several Revelations.

 

 

 

Blues Suite was Mr. Ailey’s first major dance, made in 1958, when the company began. It’s a bluesy piece that takes place in a nightclub, based on The Dew Drop Inn, an African American hangout in his Texan hometown, and consists of a set of female cabaret dancers and jazzy dancing men, who mostly perform in groups for the audience but sometimes dance together as if we, the audience, are getting not a “performance” but are eavesdropping on what goes on in a real club. The latter were my favorite parts.

With Masekela Langage, my overall favorite of the season besides Revelations, we get just that: a glimpse into another world, a troubling world.

 

 

And that’s what I liked about it so much. It was described to me as a “political” work (a totally loaded term!) portraying racial violence and oppression both in the era of South African apartheid (it’s set to music by the South African trumpeteer Hugh Masekela) and in 1960s Chicago. So, I expected to see all these scenes of white farmers burning black farms, of bands of white police attacking black men on the streets, etc. But it wasn’t.

Continue reading “Masekela Langage and the Brilliance of Revelations”

Posted on

Still Here

I know you’re not ever supposed to start posts saying ‘I’m sorry for not posting in forever.’ But I normally write once or more per day, so, really, I’m sorry for not posting in forever! I’m just working on this ridiculously hard short story that really should be a novel (it’s 20,000 words right now and I’ve already cut out a bunch of stuff)– and hopefully it will be someday. Well, it will be, but I don’t know if it will ever be a published novel. The industry isn’t looking too good these days and I don’t know if I have the nerve to self-publish…

Anyway, I went to see Alvin Ailey on Sunday night (Blues Suite — my first time seeing it– liked but didn’t love it; Flowers, about Janis Joplin, which grew on me, especially the dream sequence with all the hilarious but uber sexy ’60’s  era bootie shorts and leg fringe; and Revelations, which I could honestly see about 30 times per season — basically every night they do it — and never tire of it). I still have to blog about the two Ailey works that were new to me this season — Blues Suite and Masekela Langage, the second of which I loved. More about that later.

I always get very depressed around this time of year and I think it has a lot to do with Alvin Ailey ending their City Center season. I always get depressed when dance company seasons end but more so with this group than any other.

I also need to write my end-of-the-year favorites list (probably going to go with Nimrod Freed’s PeepDance as my overall favorite and Craig Salstein’s Time for ABT for new choreography, ABT’s Tudor Centennial and Alvin Ailey’s 50th anniversary celebrations for events), but I want to do links, and I don’t have time to do that now. Also desperately trying to make myself well. I somehow caught a nasty cold, which I want to be gone by tomorrow night so I can go out with friends and have a reasonably good time.

So, will blog soon! In the meantime, please check out dance tweeters and their tweets (see previous post). And have a most festive New Year’s eve!

Posted on

Happy Holidays Everyone!

So, my new, upgraded blog is almost up. Well, I guess it is up but there are still some kinks to be worked out, such as the comments. I am told all comments transferred, but for some reason they are not all showing up yet. Hopefully, Disqus will work it out.

Anyway, I will write a longer post as soon as I become un-intimidated by this crazy new software! In the meantime, everyone have a wonderful holiday, and New Yorkers, do go see Alvin Ailey if you have a chance. They’re showing through January 4th but there are only two more performances of Blues Suite. (Omg, there are like 20,000 options for links; hopefully the Alvin Ailey highlight will actually link to City Center…)

Okay, talk soon 🙂 Let me know if you guys have any problems with comments. My web guy wanted to set me up with Disqus because I was getting overrun by spam. It’s supposed to be a cool comment system. We shall see…

Again, very happy holiday everyone!

Posted on

Festa Barocca at Alvin Ailey

 

So Sir Alastair called Festa Barocca “rubbish”!

I didn’t really know what to think of it, to be honest (which is why it’s taken me so long to write about). I found it oddly intriguing and very different from his (choreographer Mauro Bigonzetti’s) other work that I’ve seen, Oltremare. That piece made perfect sense and was clear in what it was trying to express: the fear, sadness, and longing of poor immigrants bound for the New World. This wasn’t so clear.

The whole piece is set to Handel’s classical Baroque music, but the movement is extremely varied, encompassing ballet, Argentine Tango, African — a hodge-podge, and with styling that looked at times Asian (like the beautifully flexed wrists), Egyptian (the iconic “King Tut”-esque Cleopatra arms), and even some styling that reminded me of the movie Pulp Fiction (with the bandit eyes — where Uma Thurman and John Travolta are dancing, extending elbows outward, arms turned down, circling their eyes with their fingers — remember that?)

There was definitely a lot of humor, and Hope Boykin, whose enchanting solos frame the piece, smiles out at the audience a lot, kind of indicating she is taking us on a wild ride. I couldn’t really tell, though, if Bigonzetti was making fun of Baroque music, or if he was trying to expand our assumptions about how it could be used for dance. Don’t think I’d ever have thought of putting African to Handel. Or, if Baroque music is defined as representing the “perfect order” of the universe, of “avoiding trivialities as well as willful eccentricities,” then maybe he is playing with the definition of Baroque music itself.

By the way, Antonio Douthit (right in pic above) and Jamar Roberts I thought were the best in the ensemble parts. Jamar really threw himself into it full out and made the most of every little movement detail. And Antonio is one of those unbelievable dancers who seems to be able to excel at both ballet and African. Have I said that before here? Sorry if I have; I honestly forget what I’ve tweeted and what I’ve blogged. He has these gorgeously high extensions that he holds so well and he’s graceful and feathery, but then he can be so rhythmic with those beautifully snaky full body-undulations as well.

The dance is comprised of several ensemble parts, a couple of solos, and a couple duets that seemed by turns sexy, mysterious, and kind of violent. At points, it seemed like the men were casting a spell on the women, at other places it seemed the women became the mens’ puppeteers, like when the women would raise their legs to their partners’ faces or necks, gripping with their toes, kind of teasing them as they circled their feet about, head or throat attached, round and round, and then harshly pushing them away.

Macaulay seemed peeved because such movement (which he amusingly calls “acrobatic foot fetishism”) didn’t seem to fit the Italian lyrics of the Handel songs. I didn’t know those lyrics, but, assuming the translation in his article is correct, it is rather interesting how a husband’s singing “Where are you? Come, beloved, to console my spirit” to his wife (who doesn’t yet know he’s dead) correlates with a dancer throttling her partner’s throat with her foot. Either an unusual reinterpretation, or Bigonzetti is trying to throw in some comedy with the duets as well (which generally seemed more serious), or else he, like many choreographers, is more interested in putting movement to rhythms than actual words.

In the end I’m not sure what to make of it. I loved the dancers, as always. I’m not sure I could ever be dissatisfied watching them do anything. I’m interested to hear what others make of this piece though. They don’t yet have any of it up on YouTube, but let me know if you see it live.

Oh, and costumes (by Marc Happel) were gorgeous. Men and women both wore long, brightly-colored flowing skirts in the ensemble pieces, donning more form-fitting garb for the intricate pas de deux.

 

Posted on

Happy Happy Night Tonight At Alvin Ailey

Okay, here is what I was writing last night when my internet crashed:

I’m always so happy when I come out of an AA performance; I could just dance home! Tonight was Maurice Bejart’s Firebird, which was more breathtaking than the first time I saw it last year; Clifton is beyond belief — just this huge guy who’s so amazingly graceful. Ditto for Jamar — the only person who I can imagine being able to lift him, and those lifts at the end when Jamar’s bringing Clifton back to life are so stunning.

 

Then, on second, was the new Hope Boykin piece, Go in Grace, which was kind of a play without words, utilizing the singers — Sweet Honey in the Rock — along with the dancers, the singers acting as a kind of chorus and interacting with the dancers throughout. It told, in expressionistic pieces, the story of a family, the father and mother good, upstanding people trying to keep their daughter and son from going astray. They’re successful with the daughter but the son kind of gets involved with the wrong crowd (namely, Antonio and Kirven!) Eventually he comes back, but only after the father dies, which is really heartbreaking. Amos J. Machanic danced the father and I noticed from last night (which I still have to write about!) and tonight that he is the most expressive, emotive dancer, and such a great actor, he really pulls you into the dance, and creates such sympathy for his characters. He broke my heart both last night as a junkie in Masekala Language, and tonight as the dying father who wanted nothing but the best for his children in Boykin’s ballet.

 

 

And last on was Revelations, which I’ve written about here. Yannick LeBrun blew me away as the second Sinner Man!

 

He was, yes, even better than Clifton! He is definitely one to watch. And Antonio Douthit was mesmerizing tonight as well, as the guy getting baptized in Wade in the Water. Funny though, he had some kind of large tattoo — a cobra or some kind of winged creature perhaps — creeping out of the top of his pants in back, which was kind of funny given his character here 😀 But I love it — & am sure I’m the only one who noticed such a thing… Also, someone’s big church hat flew off and created a bit of a funny nuisance onstage in Rocka My Soul. Always very funny when something goofy happens with a prop 🙂

Anyway, I have to upload and post pictures from last night and write about the night before — Masekela Language and Suite Otis, but will have to do it when I get back from Pina Bausch at BAM.