Alonzo King's LINES Ballet-Stern Grove Festival

Titles inform perception and provide insight in the performing arts. They can be a literal representation of the artist’s intent or an ironic commentary on their work. But, whichever role titles fill, their significance cannot be ignored. LINES Ballet’s performance at San Francisco’s Stern Grove Festival demonstrated that sometimes titles work and sometimes they don’t. Two well-chosen titles enhanced Artistic Director Alonzo King’s choreography, and one poorly chosen title revealed what was lacking.

Migration: The Hierarchical Migration of Birds and Mammals was missing its key element. For the word migration to appear twice in the title and then be absent in the piece was disappointing. To be fair, King definitely had the animal- and bird-like qualities well defined in his choreography. The performers turned into salamanders, birds, owls and elephants through inventive movement. But any sense of migration was nowhere to be found. The word implies a journey to somewhere new. It is a horizontal relationship where entities are mobile; traveling and exploring. What King provided was a vertical structure: evolution and development. Every dancer began by moving cautiously; small; contained. Throughout the six-part piece, the movements of each individual were built and expanded. By the end, they were turning with abandon and leaping through the air in flight. Each was evolving, not migrating. They were achieving new movements from within, not outwardly experiencing new realities in the space.

Pas de deux, the second piece, had the simplest, yet truest description. This world premiere for guest artists Muriel Maffre and Prince Credell embodied its title: a dance for two people. Traditionally, pas de deuxs are representations of relationships whether romantic, sensual, contentious or even violent. But, the words do not mean that at all, that meaning has been imposed upon them. Rather, they simply translate as a dance of two, which is what King created. Yes, there was intricate partnering and a striking visual contrast of the much-taller Maffre (especially when she was on pointe) juxtaposed with Credell. However, the joy in the piece was the dance of two; no sub-text, no hidden meaning, just bodies working together in space. King’s final piece delivered on its sexy, exotic title, The Moroccan Project. From the undulating upper-body movements to the lush orange and gold costuming to the entrances and exits; everything was evocative. In particular, Brett Conway’s rond de jambe en l’air and Corey Scott-Gilbert’s sinewy developpés oozed with seduction.

Some suggest that titles are peripheral elements of dancemaking because they are not directly involved with the choreography and staging. However, it is crucial to remember that the presentation of dance encompasses everything connected with the piece, including the title. It is the first connection that the audience makes with the work. It sets up expectations, understanding, questions and curiosity. Titles matter to dance.

NBC & NYCB-War Memorial Opera House

It may still be cold in Toronto and New York but the National Ballet of Canada and the New York City Ballet are completely hot! These two companies recently participated in the international salute to San Francisco Ballet as part of their 75th anniversary celebratory season. Both performances were amazing. The National danced Matjash Mrozewski’s A Delicate Battle (2001), while City Ballet brought George Balanchine’s Duo Concertant (1972). Although the two works are very different, they share a neo-classical approach to dance, specifically in the unique relationship between music and movement.

But, why is the combination of dance and music such a big deal? It seems pretty standard in the performing arts. However, what makes the neo-classicists different is not that they use dance and music together but how they do it. They believe that music and dance are collaborative and exist as interdependent variables. Each is significant on its own, but a specific combination of the two provides incredible strength and effectiveness to performance. With neo-classical ballet, you can actually see the music in the steps through the coupling of musical motifs and choreographic motifs. Also, punctuating steps are used to accent specific places in the music score. The music is built right into the movement, rather than simply being an arbitrary accessory to unrelated steps and sequences. A Delicate Battle and Duo Concertant were perfect examples of this neo-classical union, resulting in an intricate fugue and a complex concerto.

The opening sequences of A Delicate Battle perfectly matched the chosen musical composition by J.S. Bach, the king of the fugue. In fugal form, a subject is introduced and occurs multiple times throughout the piece. Mrozewski was able to apply this musical structure in his choreography. In A Delicate Battle, the recurring theme included a developpé to the front ending with each dancer holding his/her foot, followed by a lunge to the side, finishing with a flat footed turn in passé. Just like the musical fugue that accompanied the dance, each performer started these movements at different times, layering the piece with the same polyphonic texture that was present in the music. A second characteristic of a fugue is its continual motion. Other musical structures have specific places where the music comes to a definite stop at several points in the piece, whereas a fugue moves forward until the composition is over. The first section of Mrozewski’s piece did exactly that. The seven dancers were in constant motion until the music finished. As the final chord sounded, the dancers posed facing upstage as a piece of material that had been suspended above them was released. The beauty of that visual and audible moment was breathtaking; there were multiple gasps of surprised delight from the audience.

Unlike fugues, concertos have two parts: soloists sections, where individual instruments are featured and ritornellos, when the entire group of artists perform together. A concerto goes back and forth between these two. Balanchine’s Duo Concertant is classical concerto form, with his interesting combination of musicians and dancers as the group of artists. Duo Concertant starts with a beautiful Stravinsky musical duet interpreted by Arturo Delmoni on the violin and Cameron Grant on the piano. The two dancers in this piece are simply standing at the piano listening to the amazing music, which represents the initial solo sections of the concerto. Then, we have the first ritornello where the dancers join the musicians and all four perform as a group. Just as would be expected from the neo-classical master, George Balanchine, the steps fall right in to the music. As the musicians played syncopated patterns against each other, the dancers also performed syncopated temps levéé leaps. Then, just as in any traditional concerto, there was another solo section. The dancers stopped and listened as the solo musicians were featured again without any movement or choreography. A second ritornello followed, where again the audience saw the cohesion of music and movement. Robert Fairchild performed brilliant staccato sissones, corresponding to detached musical sequences in Stravinsky’s score. He was so amazing that it was like watching the ghost of Jacques d’Amboise, a famed Balanchine dancer. This constant interplay between solo and ritornello was absolutely delightful, and a truly inventive interpretation of concerto form.

I wouldn’t say that the neo-classical approach is the only way to establish a clear relationship between music and movement in the performing arts. But, there is something special about watching choreographic steps and music patterns which reflect each other. It is satisfying and complete. It is not the only way, but I would go so far as to say that it might be the best way.

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater-Zellerbach Hall

Some dance performances stand out because of their creativity, spectacle or beauty while others stand out because they lack technique, originality, or innovation. After seeing Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater on its annual western tour, what stood out was a complete surprise. When pondering the four pieces in Program B (Night Creature, Unfold, The Road of the Phoebe Snow, The Winter in Lisbon) and trying to formulate an opinion, what I noticed most was the absolute hypocrisy inherent in dance criticism.

All dance critics must suffer from bouts of selective amnesia because they contradict themselves all the time. Without fail, a review by one writer can be filled with condemnation for a particular aspect present in a performance. Then, that same writer’s next review can praise and laud another performance for the exact same reason they felt the first one failed. Why? Did they forget their previous thoughts or just change their mind? Perhaps dance critics embody a ‘love/hate the one you’re with’ mentality; a fickle collection of easily swayed individuals. Or, is a contradictory nature a job requirement? As I view more dance from a critical perspective, I, too, discover the two-facedness of my own opinions. What disturbs me about one company; thrills me in another. The individualism displayed by the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater is a perfect example. I was excited by the unique quality of each dancer in the Ailey troupe, yet, in the past, this type of non-conformity has completely annoyed me.

The Ailey dancers were in no way a group of look-alikes. In Night Creature (1974), fifteen original artists were interpreting the choreography and consequently, the audience could see fifteen personalities emerge onstage. In the unison sections of the work, the leg extensions fluctuated which completely makes sense. On different bodies, extension heights should vary because no two dancers are exactly the same. So often in major ballet companies, there is a decision made on the height of the leg, and all dancers must adhere to it. These choices create compulsory movement; enforced upon the dancers rather than being generated from within them. The timing of the lifts in Night Creature was also distinctive. When the women jumped into the men’s arms and landed in a Russian split, the timing varied. Some of the couples arrived in this position a little later than others. Once again, the mixed timing was appropriate because each couple had already established their own identity and personality throughout the piece. Here come the inconsistencies with dance criticism. Sometimes these slight discrepancies suggest a lack of cohesion. And, they can be to blame for the failure of a piece rather than the reason for its success. I have made that judgment many times with other ballet companies; criticizing their lack of attention to uniformity. Yet, here the distinctiveness was astonishing; it was not happening by accident or due to lack of rehearsal. Night Creature was choreographed by Alvin Ailey as a piece for fifteen unique dancers, not as a showcase for a cookie-cutter company without soul or spirit. The Ailey company proved that cohesion does not have to come from replication. This piece was still unified, but it was the individualism of these dancers that held it together.

So, I am just as hypocritical as all the other reviewers and maybe that’s okay. Choreography will constantly exasperate, surprise and challenge biases and conceptions. You may hate something one day and love it the next and maybe that is just part of the job.