Goat Farm Arts Center, Atlanta, GA
May 11, 2013

By Chelsea Thomas.

CORE Performance Company presented the world premiere of The Liberated Accident May 9-11 to conclude the inaugural season of Tanz Farm, a yearlong performance anthology produced by gloATL and the Goat Farm Arts Center. After working only three weeks with contemporary choreographer Amanda K. Miller-Fasshauer, CORE presented the new three-part, one-hour work that was delightfully intimate, free flowing and thought provoking.

Set in the gorgeous, old brick factory ruins of the Goat Farm’s Goodson Yard, the work was heavily influenced by its environment, often utilizing the space’s openness to break into a run or to interact with its natural noise, which includes passing trains less than 50 yards away. Miller-Fasshauer, formerly the choreographer-in-residence at Ballet Frankfurt under William Forsythe and the founder of Germany’s Pretty Ugly Dance Company, made the spatial decision to set the audience in-the –round, or on all sides of the dancers’ stage, providing unique, varied experiences for all.

With both pre-set and improvisational movement sections, The Liberated Accident went back and forth between structured choreography and dance “adlibbing”. This happenchance attitude appropriately paralleled the organic, evolving nature of the environment, which in itself has gone through various evolutions and uses over the last 100 years. Built during the 1880s and once used as a cotton gin factory, the space has also been used as a mill, an antique mall, a sheet metal factory, an artist’s haven and even as a factory to produce ammunition and mortar during World War II. (The current name, Goat Farm Arts Center, was derived from previous owner Robert Haywood who brought in goats to eat kudzu that was threatening his garden in the early 1970s.)

CORE Performance Company in ‘The Liberated Accident’ for Tanz Farm at The Goat Farm Arts Center. Photo by John Ramspott.

With a peaceful mood and informal elegance, CORE’s dancers pleasantly embraced Miller-Fasshauer’s contemporary style, known for focusing more on the philosophy of a work’s progress than the final, aesthetic outcome. With open hearts and minds, it was evident that all dancers revered her style and wanted to produce an accessible and warm performance.

The first part of the work opened with dances set to Bach’s Diverse Canons that were courtly, loosely patterned and inwardly meditative. Dancers exchanged curious interactions, glancing at each other in the midst of solos, exchanging timid smiles and brief, guarded smiles. Occasionally, dancers would engage in a pas de deux, but barely touch, with their ligaments wrapping around one another in hungry, but restrained intensity. 

This habit of dancing together with little to no physical touch made me envision an invisible barrier keeping the dancers apart. This idea developed as the work progressed and I often wondered what the invisible force field was to them – or perhaps better put, what exactly filled that negative, empty space? Did they all see something there that the audience was blind to?

Miller-Fasshauer’s movement was at times fragmented and mysteriously inverted, bringing an ensemble phrase here and then a seemingly random gesture and shout there. As lush, grounded solos emerged and then vanished as swiftly, audience members’ faces sometimes seemed to be reflecting an inner confusion. Still, there was a transparency and vulnerability that came from the dancers that was lovely to witness.

CORE Performance Company in ‘The Liberated Accident’ as part of Tanz Farm at The Goat Farm Arts Center. Photo by John Ramspott.

Perhaps the oddest section of the work was the second part, a highly-improvised pas de deux between dancer Erik Thurmond and Miller-Fasshauer herself. Thurmond read Parable of the Equal Hearts while Miller-Fasshauer constantly interrupted to verbally ask questions and then physically respond in dance phrases filled with childlike inquisition. This section dragged on and with Miller-Fasshauer’s quiet voice, many questions were lost on the audience as they were drowned out in the warehouse’s big space.

Finally, the third part took on a darker, more serious nature as the entire company began to dance once more. By this time the sun had fully set and the brick building’s dusty glass windows shined aglow with flicking tealight candles. A theme of reaching and being pulled returned from the first dance segment and responded beautifully to the music by Fred Frith, titled The Happy End Problem.

As a train began to pull up behind the warehouse the dancers fled the stage to wave to it, pressing their faces against the windowpanes. This happened twice before the dance whined down. To end the evening, the artists sat in a circle in the center of the space and tapped their hands rhythmically on the floor as the lights faded.

Throughout the evening two dancers stood out, Stephanie Boettle and Anna Bracewell. Both performed with great focus and detailed intensity, diving into deep lunges, unhurried spirals and grounded turns. While contemporary dance can be impersonal and extremely abstract, they brought emotion and refreshing sentiment.

In all, this unhurried, serene and deeply complex work was fleeting but rich. It was an intimate performance that adequately allowed viewers to witness and take part in an artistic, ephemeral process. 

Photo (top): CORE Performance Company premieres ‘The Liberated Accident’ as part of Tanz Farm at The Goat Farm Arts Center. Photo by John Ramspott.

The Fox Theatre, Atlanta
April 23, 2013

By Chelsea Thomas.

Following seasons in London and on Broadway, Sister Act: The Musical has embarked on a national tour, which recently visited Atlanta for a weeklong engagement. On opening night on Tuesday, April 23, The Fox Theatre had a decent-sized crowd and lots of energy. However, even with the cheerful and responsive air, Sister Act fell short and exposed a myriad of both thematic and technical flaws. 

Based on the 1992 film starring Whoopi Goldberg (who is notably a producer of the current musical), this stage rendition strays from its source, transporting the story from early-90′s California to late-70′s Philadelphia and adding characters and occasional vulgarity where they wasn’t any before.

The story revolves around struggling disco singer Deloris Van Cartier who is forced to seek sanctuary in a convent after seeing her criminal boyfriend commit murder. Van Cartier, played by performer Ta’Rea Campbell, has to act like a nun and in the process begins to respect and care for her Catholic sisters. During her stay, Van Cartier also begins to revive the convent’s chorus, which in turn helps keep the dying church from being bought by a couple of bachelor antique dealers.

While holding onto the same skeleton of the film – the subjects of family, acceptance, redemption and transformation – the stage show still takes liberal leaps and bounds away from the original story by adding multitudes of witty zingers, abounding sexual innuendoes and somewhat excessive exaggerations. Not being Catholic, I had to wonder whether Catholics, and specifically nuns, would find the musical just plain offensive.

Patina Miller and the company perform in ‘Sister Act’. Photo by Joan Marcus.

Some examples of how the plot points became murky, and honestly, a little too satirical, are best exemplified in the moments shared between Van Cartier and the uptight Philadelphia Mother Superior, played by Hollis Resnik. Numerous times Van Cartier exhibits plain and unapologetic blasphemy, saying things like “Jesus Frickin’ Christ”, and promotes disrespectful, cheeky whips against the church, ending the show by saying something to the effect of, “Maybe one day you’ll realize humans are responsible for the good in the world, not God.” Mother Superior is not much better, playing the stereotypical uptight nun with the “log” in her own eye. She is constantly belittling Van Cartier and casting passive aggressive insults her way.

Yet, even with all these botched narratives, the musical did have many satisfying moments thanks to top-notch singers (namely Campbell as Van Cartier and Lael Van Keuren as Sister Mary Robert), Anthony Van Laast’s delightful and fun choreography, and Klara Zieglerova’s beautiful set paired with Natasha Katz’s dazzling lighting.

The music was light and catchy, with the Abba-like Sunday Morning Fever and the ear tickling Take Me to Heaven standing out. The balled of Sister Mary Robert, The Life I Never Led, felt forced and somewhat misplaced while the charming and wonderfully executed I Could Be That Guy, sung by character “Sweaty” Eddie Souther (performed by E. Clayton Cornelious), felt entirely authentic, natural and smooth. My personal favorite was the electrifying Raise Your Voice near the end of Act I.

Overall, Director Jerry Zaks did deliver a superb group of vocalists, actors and dancers, if only the script they performed had been more thoughtfully written. At about 2 1/2 hours total, Sister Act is one musical that could use some “divine intervention” along with some common sense and respect. As one reviewer commented, in one tune’s time the musical can shift from “sacred to profane and back again many times over.” Still, I can’t dismiss the clearly successful points either – the set, the singing, the costumes and the cutesy choreography – for that would just be “sinful”. 

Photo (top): Patina Miller and the Company in Sister Act: The Musical. Photo by Joan Marcus.

Presented by the Joyce Theater Foundation

David H. Koch Theater at Lincoln Center, NYC
12 April 2013

By Leigh Schanfein.

For its performances at Lincoln Center, Nederlands Dans Theater presented Sehnsucht and Schmetterling, both choreographed by the company’s resident choreographers Sol León and Paul Lightfoot, who have been choreographing together since 1989. I have seen León and Lightfoot’s work before, as well as older repertoire of NDT, and the work I saw this time was quite different from what I’ve previously experienced. As a dancer, I don’t know that my eye was fulfilled from this performance. However, as a human, as someone who experiences social intricacies, shares history, and feels intensely, I was thrilled by the two pieces presented on this evening’s program. 

Sehnsucht involves a man in white, a man in black and a woman in white as a couple, a corps of men and women in black, and a large room holding the couple that floats over the middle of the stage and rotates. As the man in white dances alone on stage, the couple appears and starts to play out what seems to be a troubled relationship while shifting and leaning on the various surfaces of the room; only on one occasion does the man in white approach the room to take the woman overhead and over the borders of her box before returning her without further acknowledgement.  

In the second part of the piece, the man in black departs from the room, and the room disappears as a corps, all in black, takes to the stage with the man in white left glaringly different from the rest. Here, with the enormous stage at their disposal, the dancers charge through brilliantly expansive movement with a clearly visible root in classical steps taken into the contemporary realm for a precise, authoritative effect. At a certain point there is a shift: subtly but determinedly the man in white appears to take over the subconsciousness of the corps, bringing the bold dancers under his reign with a quiet power. At the end of this thunderous section filled with massive leaps and fast-paced synchronicity, the man in black emerges, only to seemingly be shut out from those who bear his likeness. 

In the third part, we return to the initial scene. The man in black returns to the room where the dance is slightly more reserved, the woman having distanced herself and eventually leaving the room herself before the man in black leaves once again; all that remains is the man in white, alone. Sehnsucht is not a piece about dance; we are not watching this because we like dance and it will not make us fall in love with the very steps of dance. This piece was about something, these men, this woman, and the separation of forces. Who is this man in white? Does he represent the woman, changing her mind about the man in black? Is he something about the woman within the man in black’s consciousness? Is everything we see behind and around him all in his mind? The question mark is made even stronger as the man in white stays on stage in front of the curtain while we break into intermission. Eventually, about halfway through intermission, he unfolds himself and very slowly makes his way across the stage, pausing every minute or so to gaze out over the audience or look back over his shoulder. The funny thing is that it isn’t just an interesting way to get through intermission; he looks like he is judging us, like we are the ‘weirdos’ coming here to view this, his life or his subconscious or the reality of his imagined state. He is the figment but he is the one with the right to be there.

The intermission blends into the next piece, Schmetterling, when a woman dressed in a child’s long red coat begins to tiptoe across the stage. We watch as she transitions from a fragile child to a bolder, even bratty kid sometimes breaking into song and mimicking adult movement. At the end, when we know intermission is over and we are entering into a new realm, a solo man crosses, solemnly, and when he is done the curtain opens and commences a duet between the solemn man and the woman from before, but now she has gray hair and is an old stooped woman. A lifetime has occurred, a lifetime experienced by this woman, and about which the strong young man knows little. As they dance, she seems to be laughing at him, laughing at what he does not know. From there, Schmetterling roves through a series of short dances that are mostly set to lyrical music by The Magnetic Fields. These vignettes, mostly solos and duets, appear to depict sincere individuals, couples, and trios wearing mid-century ghetto attire, who should be demonstrating strife and daily tasks but are instead mostly silly and farcical. Because the dancers are so talented and the choreography is seemingly trivial, the lyric “sometimes transcendent, and sometimes just dumb,” stood out prophetically early in the work. 

Towards the end of Schmetterling, the few serious moments come to a head as the final portion of the work turns towards the transcendent. The young man and the old woman come together once again and now I am left with the impression that everything we just witnessed was her life in stories, seen in the way that she told it to this young man as he grew up, almost entirely humorous and often just plain silly. But the man is not amused, and their duet paints a clear conversation in my mind, one where he asks, “Why do you make light? You have experienced love, hatred, controversy, turmoil, exquisite happiness…and you laugh.” To that she responds, “This is it, all we have. We cannot take ourselves seriously. This is not just the impression of age, it is the extremism of humanity. You grab that forbidden fruit and you make apple pie out of it.” She makes it clear that life may have shoved her around but she grabbed it by the balls and laughed in its face. I may be too much like the young man, not unlike many of my generation, finding the travails of humanity too great to dismiss. I couldn’t quite latch on to the levity when the dancers flounced about in ghetto garb, but when the work took a somber twist, it hit like a ton of bricks, with the weight of the world.

There were motifs that appeared in both pieces such as the men and women generally wearing the same costumes, as if gender played no role, or dancers striking poses where the leg is held in the air by the arm. Even though the dance vocabulary alone did not impress me this time as it has done many times over on the dancers of NDT, I am still left with absolute conviction that NDT is one of the best dance companies right now on the world’s stages.

To find out more about NDT, visit www.ndt.nl/en.

Photo source: www.ndt.nl/en/ballets/50

Cobb Energy Performing Arts Centre, Atlanta GA
April 12, 2013

By Deborah Searle.

In their second to last program of the season, Atlanta Ballet presented David Bintley’s Carmina Burana along with an opening flurry of color in Helen Pickett’s Petal. The two works, although both being quite contemporary, had nothing else in common and were an odd match for a program.

The flow of the evening was a little strange, with the show opening with a projected video interview with David Bintley about his version of Carmina Burana. It was insightful, but it was then followed by Pickett’s Petal and an intermission before we were presented with Carmina Burana. It would have been more fitting to play the video after intermission to directly precede Carmina Burana.

Petal is a light, airy and striking work. The gorgeous music by Philip Glass and Montgomery Newman is complemented well by the exquisite dancing. It was a great choice for a spring performance with bright color and flowing, effortless dancing. It has a beauty, energy and innocence about it, like new life in the spring time. The pas de deux work is daring and performed weightlessly. The ballet has a breezy, whimsical feeling, but it is a little too flighty and rushed at times.

Atlanta Ballet presents David Bintley’s ‘Carmina Burana’. Photo by Charlie McCullers.

The stage is set up like a large white box, with white curtains on the side of the stage, bringing in the wings. This white box has hues of yellow, orange and pink shone on it, lighting up the stage with spring color. The simple and stark stage is fresh and clean and it allows us to just focus on the dancing, but it is also unforgiving, with nothing to distract from the dancers when not completely in sync. Unfortunately, it showed that the dancers weren’t always perfectly in time with each other or executing movements with the same clarity.

That said, the dancers were all stunning and they suited the movement well. Petal is a lovely ballet and was a nice opener, although it didn’t suit being presented with Bintley’s Carmina Burana, which in opposition is so dramatic and dark.

Bintley’s Carmina Burana is an entertaining theatrical spectacular. The backdrops, costumes, lighting, music and not to mention dancing, are all dramatic. The music by Carl Orff is stunning, and being presented by the young singers of Georgia State University and Atlanta Ballet Orchestra, it was brought to life and a performance in its own right. The vocalists were brilliant and the live music really added to the experience.

The ballet was extremely comical at times, but also sultry and passionate.  The subject matter of three seminarians rejecting their faith to explore lust, love, greed and gluttony was interesting, although I personally found it a little disturbing and dark. There were fun, fabulous moments including chairs used to mimic horses, a huge roast swan danced gorgeously by the talented Tara Lee, pregnant dancing ladies and crazy clown-like obese men. There were some stunning lifts and powerful, dramatic moments with an engaging juxtaposition of humorous and serious, light and dark.

Carmina Burana was executed well by Atlanta Ballet, with each dancer embracing his or her character and dancing with commitment and strength, but I personally didn’t like the subject matter. Some of the costume choices were also questionable, including grey body suits with genitalia drawn on them. Although Bintley is definitely a clever story teller and accomplished choreographer, I didn’t really enjoy this ballet.

Photo (top): Atlanta Ballet’s Rachel Van Buskirk and Jonah Hooper in David Bintley’s Carmina Burana. Photo by Charlie McCullers.

Colorado Ballet Brings Stephen Mills’s Story of Survival to Denver

University of Denver, Denver, CO
March 29 2013

By Jane Elliot.

On Good Friday, miles away from its home theater, the Colorado Ballet branched out of its usual repertoire of big, classical ballets and abstract neoclassical works to showcase a very different side of the company. In the more intimate ambiance of the University of Denver’s Robert and Judi Newman Center for the Performing Arts, the company presented Light/The Holocaust & Humanity Project, a masterfully crafted work by Austin Ballet Artistic Director Stephen Mills, which portrayed the horrific events that occurred in Europe during World War II.

It can be difficult to find the words to describe such an event, so Mills took to movement and demonstrated his ability to not only tell a story with dance, but also to illustrate poignant themes without playing into the cliché or expected. The sectional ballet of five movements ran in its entirety without an intermission and was a tale of humanity, tragedy and ultimately, survival.

Tying each movement together was a dialogue, so to speak, between a 19-year-old girl [danced exceptionally by Soloist Caitlin Valentine-Ellis], whose life was permanently altered by tragedy, and the woman she became as a result [Ballet Mistress Lorita Travaglia]. It was a loosely structured through-line, interspersed with dynamic metaphors about the evolution and resilience of humanity. The story gave the audience something to grasp onto and the artistic instinct of Mills to not overdevelop it worked well.

The ballet began with Valentine-Ellis onstage crouched by a glowing orb of light; she appeared scared, unsure. Shortly after, Travaglia entered. At first her presence was frightening to Valentine-Ellis, but she embraced her younger self and helped guide her off into the wings, setting the somber tone for the evening.

Dana Benton and Jesse Marks in ‘Light’. Photo by Colorado Ballet.

Section I opened on the Tree of Life, a common motif in Judaic traditions, and the origins of humanity, Adam and Eve. Through dance and minimalistic sets, Mills constructed a metaphor of humanity’s progression from the original man and woman to burgeoning civilizations with rituals, cultures and families. Clad in nothing more than nude leotards and dance shoes, Soloists Jesse Marks and Dana Benton performed a sensual pas de deux with intricate partnering and angular movements.

The allegorical section was heightened by titillating Hebraic music from Steve Reich (Teheillim), lighting design from Tony Tucci, and peppered with moments of the ensemble appearing in a cannon of movement vocabulary that was likely inspired by traditional dances. The section continued to build until the entire ensemble was onstage, dressed in pedestrian attire appropriate for the time period. They were experiencing a joyous event, a wedding, until they felt their universe shift; their bodies rippled in response to an unknown force, one that would change their lives irrevocably.

Shifting in Section II, Segregation and Marginalization, the joy dissipated to confusion and eventually fear. Accosted for their differences, the ensemble wove in and out of transparent panels of fabric that hovered a foot or so from the stage floor. There was a sense of uncertainty in each step: what was happening and why was it happening? They started to strip their clothes, and as their clothes fell to the floor so did their dignity.

In Section III, Humanity as property/Control through terror, the movement was less about balletic form and more about a lack of autonomy. Stripped of both their clothes and individuality, the dancers changed levels often and used each other’s bodies to construct machine-like entities—almost as if they represented the very trains used to mass transport Jews like cattle. The effect, coupled with the integration of multimedia images of train tracks, was haunting and mesmerizing.

Artists of Colorado Ballet in ‘Light’. Photo by Colorado Ballet.

Section IV, Coping inside the box, was perhaps the most riveting. The dancers, wearing nothing but nude undergarments, circled the stage. One at a time, they entered and exited the center of the circle, symbolic of entering and exiting the circle of life alone. There were moments of openly expressed compassion tinged with the animalistic instincts that often come out of desperation for survival. Every dancer catapulted him or herself into each movement with abandonment, yet also exercised admirable amounts of control. There was a moment in which each dancer stood in parallel and lowered down to his or her haunches while remaining on demi-pointe—its simplicity was powerful.

The final section, titled Survival, represented hope in humanity. Couples in blue unitards swept across the stage to Philip Glass’s hypnotic Tirol Concerto. The movement was stunning, highlighting Mills’s choreographic abilities with pointe and male/female partnerships. However, it seemed a bit disparate from the rest of the ballet; it could almost have been a ballet on its own. Even more perplexing was the reappearance of Valentine-Ellis, now in pointe shoes, with her beau to dance a brief pas de deux. This concept of hope and the desire to survive might have seemed more relevant to the piece as a whole if it had been integrated into the previous section.

Upon its hopeful conclusion, the audience was invited to stay for a talkback with Mills and several of the dancers – affirming the ballet world is interested in engaging its audience in its work and creative process. Though, whether people chose to stay or leave, it was evident the evening had sparked something powerful and emotional in its viewers. With superb dancing and emotional depth, Light... showed Colorado Ballet at its best. Additionally, it further solidified Denver’s place in the dance world, proving the Colorado city is a forging place for advancement in the arts.

Photo (top): Klara Houdet and Luis Valdes in Light/The Holocaust & Humanity Project. Photo by Colorado Ballet. 

Cobb Energy Performing Arts Centre, Atlanta, GA
Saturday, March 23 2013

By Deborah Searle.

Atlanta Ballet’s New Choreographic Voices was a showcase of diverse and delightful contemporary ballet. Highlighting three bold works from three of the world’s leading and emerging choreographers, New Choreographic Voices challenged the dancers as well as the audience.

The evening opened with Rush by Christopher Wheeldon. Recently appointed as Artistic Associate of The Royal Ballet, Wheeldon is one of my favorite choreographers, so I was excited to see Atlanta Ballet present an encore performance of this work. With the dancers mostly in shades of red, purple and amber the work presented beauty in simplicity. The ballet was certainly challenging for the dancers and there was nothing simple about the steps, but they were all combined and artfully presented in a wonderfully effortless charade.

Jonah Hooper, Nadia Mara and Miguel Montoya in Gina Patterson’s ‘I AM.’ Photo by Charlie McCullers, courtesy of Atlanta Ballet.

With just a blue scrim as the backdrop the dancers’ work was clean, crisp and performed with perfection. Wheeldon explored interesting arm lines, partnering, patterning and cannons. At times the work was busy, but never messy, and always flawless. It was a floating flurry of color and beauty.

A pas de deux by Abigail Tan-Gamino and Jonah Hooper was a highlight. It was not terribly romantic or passionate, but there was something exquisite about their lines and the shapes they created. As the music grew more dramatic the dance became more desperate and I inched closer to edge of my seat.

Next we were treated to a world premiere. I AM by Gina Patterson was transportive. Patterson’s work always reaches beyond and resonates. I AM spoke of searching for who we really are; shedding our outer layers and facades to embrace our inner self. With clever use of grey coats and nude leotards and undergarments the dancers covered up and/or exposed their true natures on and off throughout the work. Do we use relationships to hide who we really are? In relationships are we really ourselves? The work asked so many questions within a tapestry of stunning, expressive dance with a feminine fluidity.

Nadia Mara and John Welker in Gina Patterson’s ‘I AM.’ Photo by Charlie McCullers, courtesy of Atlanta Ballet.

Beautiful gestural canons and melting movements, all danced to entrancing music, took my breath away. Through partnerships we saw a myriad of feelings: love, giddy joy, rejection, sadness, confidence and discovery. I AM was a triumph and the audience was obviously appreciative of Patterson’s mesmeric work and the dancers’ skillful presentation of it.

Changing moods completely, the evening closed with Ohad Naharin’s improvisational, ingenious Minus 16. The renowned Israeli choreographer, who is known for his signature free movement style called ‘Gaga’, presented Minus 16 as the first work of his three-year, three-work collaboration with Atlanta Ballet.

So as not to give the work away, I won’t tell you much, except that Minus 16 is a treat! I was thoroughly entertained and reminded of the joy of dance. Atlanta Ballet’s talented cast seemed to relish in the fun of it and took us all on an exuberant exploration of movement. Several audience members even experienced the work first hand!

Minus 16 is a must see. It left everyone in the theatre on a dance ‘high’. I can’t wait to see what Naharin has in store for Atlanta Ballet next season.

The three dance works presented in New Choreographic Voices were all very different, yet thrilling, highlighting the versatility and many strengths of Atlanta Ballet’s gifted troupe of dancers.

Photo (top): Atlanta Ballet performing Ohad Naharin’s Minus 16. Photo by C. McCullers.

Julia Richman Theatre, New York City
March 22 2013

By Laura Di Orio.

The Italian International Dance Festival, which for the first time found its way to NYC this spring, proved to be a fun evening of dance and celebration, a time to honor some Italian “greats” and a way to bridge the gap between Italian and American dance cultures.

The one-night-only performance took place in the Julia Richman Theatre, a spacious venue to hold the packed house, with audience members including Luigi, the “master of jazz”; Ben Vereen, the legendary Broadway actor, dancer and singer; and many of the evening’s participating choreographers. Antonio Pio Fini, a dancer and choreographer originally from Calabria, Italy, was impressive in his artistic directorship of the entire festival, which also included an awards reception the night before. Fini also danced in two of the evening’s pieces and served as one of the emcees. 

After a bit of a delay (maybe next time assigned seating should be considered; although a nice idea, general admission seating sometimes leads to a search for seats together), the evening of dance and awards was underway. High school students from Talent Unlimited performed the opening number, a vibrant, cheerful tarantella. It was a wonderful way to begin the celebration of Italian dance and dancemakers.

A very done-up Italian woman came onstage to introduce the next work. Although an emcee was not entirely necessary when the audience had programs, her presence was friendly and casual. Michael Mao’s Kyrie, a piece dedicated to Zena Rommett, the Italian creator of Floor-Barre, was danced beautifully by Kristin Draucker and Fini. The work was set to music by Giuseppe Verdi, the Italian composer who is being celebrated this year for his 200th anniversary. Fini and Draucker were matched well together – he has a striking, crisp line, and her dancing was filled with a fluid lyricism, though internally strong. The pas de deux began with moments of high lifts and partnering until Draucker left Fini to dance alone. Then, just as the music and Fini’s dancing escalated to its fullest, she reappeared and there was some calm, a sense of release. Now, it seemed as though she was supporting him, holding his hands as he continued along a diagonal of envelopés with a collapsed upper body. The support system had been reversed, and it is she who dragged off her partner into the wings. 

Students from Talent Unlimited perform a tarantella by Nicola Lervasi to open the Italian International Dance Festival. Photo by Nan Melville.

Omiya Daisuke, a 24-year-old Alto Jonio Dance Emerging Choreographer winner, performed a stunning solo. Daisuke is a luscious mover, so captivating in his body’s manipulation and control. He combined a mixture of locking-type movements, hand gestures and absolute liquid-like connectivity from one limb to the next. He seemed to glide across the stage so silently, playing with his body in space. It was the type of movement that probably looks best on the person who created it, and it looked great on Daisuke.

Luigi’s Solitude, danced by Jessica Black, was a prime example of Luigi’s genius. His movement style is simplicity, but each moment and step is so smooth and so meaningful. The footwork and arms, beautifully executed by Black, were clean and musical. A recurring back soutenu with a lingering moment of the dancer’s back to the audience before she swiveled around was breathtaking. Black danced by herself, but she didn’t seem lonely; there seemed to be some remembrance, some acknowledgement of someone else.

Next, Luigi himself was honored with A Heart for Art Lifetime Achievement Award, presented to him by Vereen, who credited Luigi for keeping himself and other dancers dancing and feeling well, with Luigi’s motto of “never stop moving”. “Before there was the ‘j’ in ‘jazz’, there was Luigi,” Vereen said.

The dancing continued with other captivating performances, including the Italian company, Alex Atzewi Dance Company, who performed La Pelle Sotto L’Abito, a piece with daring lifts and floor work that showed off the dancers’ strength and flexibility. Although perhaps a bit too long for the type of mixed-bill performance (but certainly not to be missed given an opportunity to see them), the choreography and dancers were impressive and well-rehearsed.

Ben Vereen presents Master of Jazz Luigi with his Heart for Art Lifetime Achievement Award. Photo by Nan Melville.

Impressive, too, was Dancing with Noa, with music by Claudio Monteverdi. Noa Guy, who suffered a major brain injury and is half-paralyzed from a car accident years ago, was “dancing” with Fini, standing against him or behind him, lifted in the air or brought to the floor. The piece was spiritual and inspiring, and Guy appeared mystical with her long, gray hair flowing. The piece was received honorably with a near standing ovation.

Staten Island Ballet performed a beautiful piece, Moment to Moment, choreographed by Ellen Tharp, the company’s director. The evening’s only classical ballet work, with music of Anna Moffo singing Sergei Rachmaninoff, was in homage to the Italian Vespers. The ballerinas appeared in long, flowing dresses, bourréeing backward onto the stage, making breeze-like circles and appearing almost ghostly as they glided across. Sometimes they were scooped up by the company men, who continued to spin them off in the recurring spiral theme. There was a pas de deux for a beautiful central couple, with a corps of expressive dancers continuing to circle through the space. Three high, slow-turning lifts of women in different shapes ended the piece as the lights faded. The choreography was well-suited to the hymn-like music. 

The evening ended with another Luigi solo, New York, New York, danced by Erika Black. Again, Luigi proved himself to indeed be the “master of jazz”, and Black used her clean lines and strong musicality to accentuate his choreography. The piece was a perfect way to end the Italian International Dance Festival in NYC.

There is strong potential in Fini’s festival, and it is clear that the Italians have made and do make wonderful contributions to the dance and arts community. It will be interesting to see what he has in store for next year. 

Photo (top): Antonio Fini, artistic director of the Italian International Dance Festival, performs in Michael Mao’s Kyrie. Photo by Nan Melville.

Ailey Citigroup Theater, NYC
March 16 2013

By Laura Di Orio.

Ailey II, the second company of Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, and one made up of some of The Ailey School’s most promising scholarship students and soon-to-be professionals, presented its annual New York season at its home theater, The Ailey Citigroup Theater. This two-week run, from March 13-24, was the first with newly appointed Artistic Director Troy Powell, a former Ailey dancer and only the second person to lead Ailey II since its inception in 1974.

The company performed two programs – one of all new works by rising choreographers and one of “Returning Favorites”, with works by Powell, former Ailey Artistic Director Judith Jamison and by Ailey himself. This performance of “Returning Favorites” proved that Ailey II has the talent to shine as a company of its own and provides another outlet for some of the Ailey company’s great works to resonate.

The first piece, The External Knot, choreographed by Powell with music by Philip Glass and Robert Schumann, seems to tell the journey of one man, danced powerfully by David Adrian Freeland, Jr., as he juggles between assimilating with the community or standing strong with his independence. The dancers are dressed in crushed blue velvet dresses for the women and jazz pants for the men. The work opens with Freeland’s back to us, as he stands against the crowd.

The dancers all look as though they’re searching for something, and recurring wave-like gestures with their arms and hands crossing back and forth reverberate through all the sections of the work, bringing the story together. At times, Freeland walks through the rest of the company as they dance. He is clearly separate from them.

The External Knot is laced with varying couples and also beautiful sections of a duet and a trio, with echoes of partnering from the first group section. We’re not entirely sure of the group’s relationship to each other, and no one seems entirely happy, until the final section, marked by a sudden change in music – from subtle, melancholic compositions to more exciting drum beats. There are again echoes of Powell’s choreography from previous sections, but now there is an entirely different feel. The group is now smiling, their movements as a whole are much more dynamic, and they are almost playful, like in a game of tag. Freeland dances opposite of the group at times, but there is something different now – he is more a part of the community but is still different, still independent, and it seems everyone is okay with that.

Ailey II in Alvin Ailey’s ‘Quintet’. Photo by Eduardo Patino.

At the start of Ailey’s Quintet, we are introduced to five luscious ladies in slinky red gowns, red heels and various “bombshell” wigs. We see them first as back-up singers, as they lip synch to the soulful lyrics of Laura Nyro, but their “bootylicious” moments (pretty clever of Ailey, who created the piece in 1968) are quickly interrupted by one dancer who breaks away from the crowd, in a complete moment of internal seriousness. She then snaps out of it and rejoins. These moments trickle through the group. One by one, they break apart from the idealized beauty that exists as though they’re showgirls on display.

Quintet showcases the lovely talent of the women of Ailey II. Each has a chance to break free individually, both as characters and also as dancers. As the piece carries on, the women shed more and more – figuratively, as their movements contrast those of the original “doo-wop” group, and literally, as they toss off their shoes and wigs and dance in neutral clothing.

Quintet is refreshing and interesting in its satirical approach and as a commentary on women. It shows women and their complexities. What’s underneath the glamour and sparkly gowns are real, deep beings. The piece concludes with the five dancers back in their original costumes, but this time with the depth and layers they have just showed us.

The program ended with Jamison’s Divining, a work from 1984 that uses African beats and displays the dancers well in very grounded, modern movement. They appear tribal, almost animalistic, and Andy Kay’s costumes and Timothy Hunter’s lighting create a vibrant final touch.

Divining is a very strong, very musical work, and it allows the dancers to show their strengths both individually and as a group. At times, they even seem to pulse as one breath.

The “Returning Favorites” program was a diverse one, and Ailey II was an energetic, dynamic group who danced a lot and did it well. I can only say it’s a shame that part of my experience was interrupted by an audience member two seats down from me who apparently couldn’t wait through 30 minutes of dancing until the first intermission before digging into her snack with crinkly paper. These dancers are up there working hard, and they deserve the audience’s attention and respect.

Photo (top): Dancers of Ailey II in Troy Powell’s The External Knot. Photo by Eduardo Patinio.

Gerald Lynch Theater, NYC
March 13 2013

By Tara Sheena.

Rarely in ballet do I find the same smaller and more intimate showcases so prevalent to modern dance. The reasoning for this is, admittedly, unclear to me. Perhaps, the work in its grand tradition and even grander costumes, sets and live music harkens to the vast world provided by larger spaces. Perhaps it is the fact that pick-up companies are less common in the world of ballet as compared to the common freelance format of many modern dance companies. Perhaps it is that almighty elephant in the room: funding. Whatever the reason, anytime I am privileged to see a classical ballet company in a more intimate space, I jump at the chance.

This was the case on Wednesday, March 13 with Tom Gold Dance at the Gerald Lynch Theater in New York City. Mr. Gold’s troupe of nine dancers is a mixed bag of ballet artists, many of them currently dancing with New York City Ballet where Gold was a company member for 21 years. Noted for his straightforward style and comedic timing, his company’s New York season was a wonderful blend of ballet’s classicism, jazz’s rhythm and a touch of multimedia that worked to contemporize the evening.

The performance opened with Faure Fantasy, named for the composer of the work, Gabriel Faure. Dancer Gretchen Smith entered the stage first in a rose-pink tutu and took great care with the light, melodic music, which was played wonderfully live on piano by Susan Walters. Gold’s choreography is in its most classic sense in this piece: seven dancers traversed the stage in snappy piqués and briskly moving glissades. The bodies moved back and forth, revealing a soloist, then a pas de deux, then everyone en masse in a dizzying effect of fluffy, pink lightness.

Tom Gold Dance. Photo by Eugene Gologursky

Gershwin Preludes offered a much-needed theatrical break from the action. Luciana Paris and Stephen Hanna engaged in a playful duet set to an excerpt of the Gershwin Preludes. Hanna was especially captivating right from his first playful leap on to the stage; he has a boyish charm and sincerity that was completely effective. Paris was with him every step of the way—so trusting in their partnership as she effortlessly leapt toward his arms and allowed herself to put her full weight into their promenades, maintaining lightness and a pure lack of hesitation.

The centerpiece of the evening was also the least exciting piece of the performance: the world premiere of La Plage set to music by popular avant-garde composer John Zorn and made for the entire company. The video backdrop of various natural environments (first a forest then a beach scene) was largely drowned out on the vast Gerald Lynch stage. Though the musicality was most fine-tuned in this work, the bland costumes did nothing to complement the dancers’ bodies and the finale section, which harkened to a 60s beach party, seemed entirely contrived and overdramatic.

The final piece, Mad About the Boy, closed out the evening and fittingly showcased Gold’s theatrical flair. In a ballroom scene, the dancers entered the space clad in jewel-toned ballroom gowns for the women and classic tuxedos for the men, depicting a distinctly classy affair. Sara Mearns entered in a flowing black gown and engaged in a playful duet with Gold, jauntily chasing him around the stage in her coy, sly way. Her natural grace set against his nerdy charm was both heartwarming and hilarious. However, the exciting Likolani Brown stole the show as the lonely maid of the house, so precise in her steps and ever confident in her role. It was wonderful to see her fly around the stage and not miss a beat. For being portrayed as the hired help, she was, by no means, a lesser character. Brown allowed the final piece to end on the upbeat note it needed.

I appreciate Gold’s flair for the theatrical (how wonderful is it to laugh at the ballet?!), but through it all, I did not see a distinct voice that was all his own. Gold sacrificed many small vignettes in lieu of a larger, more developed work and it all lacked the innovation I was so desperately longing to see. I look forward to future performances where Gold embraces his cinematic theatricality and leaves the rest on the cutting room floor.

Photo (top): Tom Gold Dance performs Faure Fantasy. Photo by Eugene Gologursky

Ellie Caulkins Opera House, Denver CO
March 2 2013

By Jane Elliot.

On Saturday, March 2, 2013, Denver’s Colorado Ballet presented a mixed bill program titled Ballet Masterworks. The program was a belated Valentine to ballet, cherishing the dance innovators of the past and celebrating the dance innovators of the present; it encapsulated the works of some of ballet’s most renown choreographers, including the legendary George Balanchine, contemporary ballet pioneer Glen Tetley, and the highly sought after American choreographer Val Caniparoli.

The company started the evening off strong, attacking George Balanchine’s technically ferocious ballet Theme and Variations with aplomb. It was, and still is, a ballet full of pomp and circumstance: tutus, tiaras, chandeliers, a regal air of confidence in every demanding step, and a distinct ranking between the ballet’s corps, soloists, and principal couple. Yet, despite all of this formality, Theme and Variations was not just another ‘tutu-ballet’. Balanchine took all of these tools, which were so frequently identified with the art form, and still managed to push the limits of the classical ballet vocabulary. He utilized his trademark intertwining, eye-pleasing patterns and fast, intricate pointe work, which was executed particularly well by the four female demi-soloists (Dana Benton, Asuka Sasaki, Shelby Dyer, and Caitlin Valentine-Ellis).

Colorado Ballet presents Balanchine’s ‘Theme and Variations’. Photo by Mike Watson.

Where the ballet did slightly lack was in the chemistry between its principal couple, Maria Mosina and Alexei Tyukov. Both proved they had the technical chops to plow through the ballet’s challenging and brisk choreography. However, at times, their faces showed the effort. Unfortunately, they were not alone in this performance quality and they didn’t seem to use either the music or each other as a driving force through their pas de deux. While the music called for more expansion, tempting them to luxuriate in a pose a second longer, both Tyukov and Mosina seemed more concerned with the technical execution of each step.

Next on the program was Caniparoli’s ballet In Pieces, which received its world premiere on February 22, 2013. A plot-less ballet that exhibited shifting temperaments from dark and brooding to coy and playful, it personified its simplistic title in that the ballet felt like several pieces strung together to make a whole. At times, the ballet was interesting and engaging (the audience gave it a very warm response), but ultimately, there was a disconnect between all of the ballet’s elements.

The difficulty of being original looms over every choreographer, but with hips thrust forward and classical positions manipulated by a turned in leg or contemporary arm gesture, Caniparoli’s piece felt particularly like ballet déjà vu. Moments of the ballet were even reminiscent of Christopher Wheeldon’s 2006 work for the New York City Ballet, Evenfall, including a duplicate movement of the ballerina bent forward while on her pointes to display the curvature of her modern tutu.

While the costumes seemed to play an integral role in the ballet, the artistic choice of putting the three men in tutu-like garbs was a slight detriment, often softening the men’s dramatic and masculine movements. Perhaps Caniparoli was playing with the idea of unisex notions with the costumes, yet the dancing seemed to present rather definitive male/female roles.

Colorado Ballet presents Glen Tetley’s Rite of Spring. Photo by Mike Watson.

Yet, the movement was danced superbly by all six dancers. Valentine-Ellis appeared to have no bones in her body as she undulated through her torso and sent ripples through her long arms; Dmitry Trubchanov took command of the stage; Christopher Ellis and Sharon Wehner were a pleasure to watch in their buoyant duet; and Jesse Marks and Chandra Kuykendall showed technical mastery in a series of difficult and inventive partnered moves. Additionally, the lighting by Lloyd Sobel had numerous stunning moments, including dramatic silhouettes that highlighted the dancers’ lean, muscular physiques and clean, balletic lines.

The evening rounded out with Tetley’s re-imagination of the iconic ballet Rite of Spring. His interpretation was vastly different than other notable versions (Nijinsky, Léonide Massine, Pina Bausch, among others). It was significantly pared down from the cumbersome costumes and Russian tribal tones of Nijinsky’s original ballet and most notably, the ballet was dominated by masculinity; this included an ensemble of scantly clad men and the role of the Chosen One was danced by a male (soloist Adam Still). These changes gave the ballet a different sense of theatrics and tone.

Originally premiered in 1974, the essence of its era is apparent in the choreography and costumes. But the ballet and Stravinsky’s score still felt poignant in 2013. Led by Adam Flatt, the Colorado Ballet Orchestra played the music brilliantly. And the movement was highly musical, capturing the score’s intense percussion and depth.  A few dancers appeared to struggle with some of the floor work, but for the most part, both the male and female ensemble were strong and responsive to the driving music and themes.

The evening was successful in blending many elements of the balletic spectrum. This melding of styles, eras, and choreographers seemed to go over well with the audience, who clearly supported the mission and vision of the more than 50-year-old ballet company. Hearing the oohs, ahs, and bravos from the patrons was a reassurance that ballet is not a dying art form, but continues to inspire, entertain, and spark conversation.

Photo (top): Colorado Ballet presents In Pieces by Val Caniparoli. Photo by Mike Watson