As the doll-like ballerinas emerged onstage, dazzling rays of light hit the golden threadwork on their tutus. With ethereal elegance, their swift legs sped to the center of the stage and their thin arms, first brushing against the rigid skirts of their dresses, gracefully raised into the air in anticipation of music. A wave of identically brilliant smiles spilled over the faces of the ballerinas and they commenced dancing. Their demanding choreography, consisting of areal turns and high leaps, was executed with such vigor and precision that the movements seemed almost natural for them. Like the multitude of young characters in Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace that basked in their own expectations of love, the dancers in Ballet West seemed to be entranced by their own fairytale. Though each dancer performed splendidly, they were not as successful as a unit. When all thirteen dancers appeared onstage, it was evident that their legs did not rise to the same height and their elbows did not bend at the same angle. However, attention was pulled away from the asynchronous movements when a male dancer, with movements so subtle and effortless, seemingly flew onto the stage. His hands tenderly rested on the midriff of the forefront ballerina as she stood on point with one foot and held the other in a perfectly horizontal position.
Ballet West at 2012 Fall for Dance
Image provided by www.worldartstoday.com
This first dance, the Grand Pas, started the 2012 Fall For Dance program with a classical splendor. The dance to follow was much shorter, less formal, and surrounded the audience with an air of good humor. In the purple darkness that flooded the stage, a single dancer stood illuminated by a beam of yellow light. Another character shortly emerged from the darkness, and the two started to move about in a flirtatious yet energetic fashion. Dancing to High Heel Blues, the pair enacted a comedic story of a woman determined to buy a pair of painful high-heeled shoes. As the female character struggled to escape the grasp of the other, the movements of the two were completely different, yet they both coincided with the upbeat music. Once her reluctance passed, she joined to mirror his dance. In perfect unison, the two would use their incredible agility to leap and glide to the blues.
Absorbing the energy from the dance, the audience was certainly not prepared for the melancholy act to follow. With a simple red dress hugging her body and hair draped over her bent head, a woman stood center stage before a large drum. She released a bone-chilling cry that initiated the Tarian Malam (Night Dances). Several other dancers joined her, all moving about frantically to recreate a moment of catastrophe that befell upon their native Indonesia in 2009. As they hovered around the drums, they stamped their feet and clapped their hands to produce sounds. Red light beat onto the spinning heads of the woman as they shouted war cries and mechanically beat their hands against the drums. Observing their combination of marital arts and spiritual movements was a sensational, if not confusing, experience. Although each slam of the hand, jump into the air, and rotation of the body was well timed and precise, the sum of all motion did not amount to a greater picture. The performance was unpleasantly repetitive and difficult to comprehend.
Nan Jombang at 2012 Fall for Dance
Image provided by www.criticalmassblog.net
The final segment of the performance was a combination of ethnic dances. Ranging from the Tatars of the Crimea to the Bessarabia Gypsies, the dances were performed with enthusiasm and energy. Yet they remained just that: dances. There was no story behind the movement, no hidden meaning behind the smiles of the dancers. Regardless, they all created an amusing display, as their sea of vibrant costumes moved in immaculate harmony.
