One word of advice: if you’re hungry, do not see Fall For Dance, Program III’s “Grand Pas” from Paquita. The ballet suits, which resemble peachy-pastel-colored pastries, topped with berry colored embroideries may result in your involuntary contribution of stomach growling to the recorded classical music. Other than that, it was a tasteful introduction piece from Ballet West.
Artistic Director, Adam Sklute’s piece opened the October 2nd on Tuesday with a panoply of Russian ballerinas, each painted with a smile (although many looked strained). There is quite the resemblance between the set and a classic Degas ballerina painting—the pinkish palette seemed to blend into impressionism. The two stars of the show made quite a not-so-subtle debut. Christiana Bennett, with her strikingly beautiful vermillion hair, plays the princess, with Rex Tilton as the prince. While there seemed to be a placid energy current flowing through each of the dancers, there was an evident lack of being in sync. Calves and forearms slightly out of place were palpable against Bennett and Tilton’s fairytale poise and impressive strength. However, there was a lack of chemistry between the two—in one instance, he lifted her with great power, yet with dainty caution, as if she were made of porcelain. Otherwise, his figure was soft and suave. Bennett reached her peak, stole the show, when she delivered a remarkable pirouette of more than 10 consecutive spins on a perfectly arched, silk-clad foot. Roaring applause swept through the audience.
“High Heel Blues” appeared in a quite contrasting atmosphere after a short break. The jazziness unfolded like a purple ribbon to the swaying and twirling and careless sweeping unpredictability of the dance. A shoe-obsessed woman, Yusha Marie Sorzano, and a cunning salesman, Uri Sands were the two sole characters. Dancing amidst a color palette of glum, earthy shades like an evening in a lonely city, Sorzano made herself the focal point of the piece in an unflatteringly chunky, below-the-knee skirt. A deep velvety alto voice narrated the scene (courtesy of Tuck and Patti); it drew me into the story more than the body language of the dancers did. The style of dance was sloppy and sluggish, giving off the notion that the woman was hypnotized by the charms of the salesman. However, the lazily curvaceous and weighty spinning was often not in sync with the jazzy, sultry rhythm that rolled off the voice. Uri Sands as a choreographer sacrificed the design of the dance by putting more emphasis on utilizing the full area of the stage. The audience did, however, get a good laugh from the whimsical lyrics.
‘Whimsical’ was the opposite of the third performance of the first act, entitled “Tarian Malam (Night Dances).” A curtain rose, revealing men and women in roomy, red and black martial arts costumes—a decision that communicated a theme of “fight.” The stark, dramatic overhead lighting created a serious atmosphere in which there was minimal movement for much of the beginning. Not only was this piece—by Nan Jombang Dance Company—abstract, but it depended heavily on the actions of the individual dancers, instead of the collective frame, to communicate a message that seemed rather vague and curious. According to the program, “traditional dance and martial arts” was used “to create a contemporary narrative about the earthquake that struck the region [West Sumatra, Indonesia] in 2009, which explains the desperate shaking, the slow motion movement, the numbing vocalizations that resembled ritualistic chants. Without this vital piece of information, the act seemed unconnected and tense. Sudden jerking movements within slow episodes, such as when one female dancer quickly leaped onto the back of a male dancer and attached herself like a leech, did not contribute to clarifying the story. Most of the dancers delivered a passionate, organic performance more towards the end of the piece, when each pounded on different sized drums. The collective rhythms, accompanied by the dancers’ chilling howls gave off an aura of icy gray desperation; a muted, blunt energy. Paradoxically it was a clash between civilized and savage and the predominant emotion conveyed served as a symbolic, psychological view of the turmoil caused by the earthquake.
The second half of Program III was presented by Moiseyev Dance Company, led by artistic director, Elena Shcherbakova was divided into four parts. “Kalmyk Dance” was the first, followed by “Tatarotchka”, “Dance of the Bessarabia Gypsies” and “Suite of the Moldavian Dances.” Moiseyev Dance Company outshined the others, as its acts were bustling with energy and marked by quick, meticulous footwork. The first act was a cultural visit to the nomads “near the mouth of the Volga River”, according to the program. Roman Ivashchenko was a powerhouse—his hands and shuffling feet, which fluttered effortlessly, conjured smiles across the audience. The costumes were elaborate and well designed, instantly giving off the “village” theme. Excellent posture, genuine smiles and precision were the ingredients that made this act spectacular. The last act, “Suite of the Moldavian Gypsies” brought the night’s performance to a close with its heartwarming unity and colorful disposition. This large group, diverse, folk dance is called “Zhok.” The curtain descended, and the act left the audience with a burst of energy to take home.