(Viewed virtually, filmed at McCaw Hall, Seattle, WA).
Sometimes I really want to see, hear, et cetera something different from a certain artist – even if I very much enjoy what they offer. Some creators realize the fruits of a certain approach incredibly well…but I can’t help but wonder what fruits they could harvest from other approaches.
Pacific Northwest Ballet‘s All Lang featured two works from acclaimed choreographer Jessica Lang: two works certainly with stylistic commalities, yet with an entirely different tone, mood, atmosphere. The program therein demonstrated how Lang has a lot to offer and is not afraid to step out of a comfort zone. With the wide spectrum of just these two works, I couldn’t help but wonder what other unique worlds she’s created!
The elegant and visually crisp Ghost Variations (2020) opened the program. A soloist danced in spotlight – light streaming in on him, Caravaggio-style, before another dancer entered (lighting design by Reed Nakayama). The light then expanded, enough for the second dancer to create entrancing shadows on the backdrop. This effect deepened with more dancers doing the same – and a feeling of solitude and separation, of inaccessibility, resulted.
Poignantly, the dancer in shadow and the one before us met in unison at certain points, while otherwise dancing in different timing (and quite intriguingly so); if only they knew their commonality as we knew it.
Energy rose, and that sense of isolation faded as more dancers joined. The appeal became more visual, with enticing black and white costumes (by Jillian Lewis) and those colors overall organizing the stage picture. Shadows against the backdrop – merging, separating, dividing, multiplying – were also a highly memorable visual theme.
The viscerality at hand was also gripping, with movement soft but also grounded, commanding. The ensemble demonstrated that it is entirely possible to dance in a way both unassuming and poised: all in all, elegant.
Lang’s choices at the body level were fresh and pleasing, smoothly mixing and melding both classical and contemporary influences. Yet grabbing me more was how she organized moving bodies in space and time – creating entities both autonomous and part of the group’s essential pulse.
If any theme could be identified in this non-narrative, highly visually-based work, that might be it: the life of the individual in tension and at harmony with the group, the journey along different points of that continuum. Certain highly tender moments – particularly in a closing solo – bore witness to the deep feeling that such a journey can hold.
Next came the ebullient ZigZag (2021), opening with bursting energy. That energy felt as refined and plain classy as Tony Bennett’s voice – which boomed through the theater to accompany the ensemble.
The elegance of Ghost Variations kept resonating through this work, even while its tone felt more “crowd pleaser” and less somber, reflective – more concert hall and less “arthouse”.
Movement seemed to be as varied in influence as it was in Ghost Variations, while also incorporating a certain level of (tasteful) theatrical camp: wrist flicks, head angles, shoulder shimmies for humor and drama. The ensemble seemed to delight in the camp, and I think I did all the more because of it.
While also non-narrative, these touches built characterization and story in such a way that one could see relatable human episodes playing out before us: suggested rather than told, sketched rather than colored in.
A zigzag across the backdrop, at the beginning and end, connected to the title (scenic design by Derek McLane, incorporating artwork by Tony Bennett). This element was undefinitive in terms of meaning, but one might ponder the multi-directional assemblage of these vignettes, those changing often and taking us in the audience in different places with them – as a kind of “zigzag” of their own.
Whether or not, experiencing many different high-energy scenes kept things dynamic, and thus enhanced the “crowd-pleaser” feel at hand. There were softer, more tender sections too, which added satisfying emotional range.
Bright dresses of long tulle skirts – not to mention others covered in polka dots – also enhanced the fun theatrical feel at hand (costume design by Wes Gordon for Carolina Herrera). Costume, movement, performance quality all aligned with the distinguished and refined, yet highly accessible and joyful Tony Bennett catalogue accompanying the dancers throughout.
A work exploring movement paired with the songs of one seminal musical artist felt apropos in a program honoring one celebrated choreographer. This program has inspired me to experience more of her work, and indeed see for myself what further multiplicity it – as a larger whole – presents.
Another quality of this program that I appreciated was its short length, just under an hour. I felt fully satisfied, whereas with very long programs I sometimes just come away overloaded. I don’t think patrons need long shows to feel like getting to the theater was worth their while – rather, they might actually like getting in, out, and on with the day or night sooner.
The curtain came down on the dancers, having all accumulated back on the stage to close the work, moving in continuous unison. The music continued, and so did they: vivaciously, joyfully, with love for their craft.
So can we all, in both finding our “thing” and sometimes being brave enough to venture away from that. I also look forward to seeing how Pacific Northwest Ballet will continue; I’m already subscribed to their new season. Onwards!
By Kathryn Boland of Dance Informa.
Share this:
