Satisfying second show from Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater
By: Jordan Levin
February 20, 2016
The second program of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater’s Miami run, on Friday at the Adrienne Arsht
Center, didn’t reach the very high level of Thursday’s opening show (the program repeats Sunday afternoon.)
But it still showcased the range and spectacular gifts of these
dancers, and, perhaps, pointed towards what seems to be the
company’s character and strengths right now.
The opener, Exodus, by Rennie Harris, harnessed the
expansiveness, fluidity and emotional intensity that are among
the troupe’s best qualities. Harris is usually called a hiphop
choreographer, but in this work (and others he’s done for the
Ailey company) he has more in common with Ronald K.
Brown’s blend of contemporary, club and African moves than
with competition break dance style gymnastics. Set to pulsing house music, the movement inExodus is smooth,
loose-limbed, mostly upright, switching from slow motion to pops of jerking speed. Exodus was inspired by the
police shootings of black men that have been in the news, and travels from agony to anger to defiance. The title
implies many things: the disappearance of black men from life, a journey towards salvation, flight from
unbearable oppression.
It opens with most of the 16 dancers prone on the floor of the darkened stage, with Hope Boykin seated
mourning over Matthew Rushing, another
victim on an urban battlefield. A bare-chested
Jamar Roberts strides slowly over the bodies to
lift her up, and the dancers rise, their upraised
hands, chests and hips vibrating, as if with
uncontrollable tension and rage. As the dance
proceeds, the dancers switch from street gear to
white pants and tunics (costumes are by Jon
Taylor), and the atmosphere shifts from
gathering anger to ritual, with Roberts moving through them, solitary, his eyes fixed on a distant point. At the
end, the dancers mass behind Rushing, the sound of a shot rings out, and he collapses, to be lifted up again by
Roberts. There’s intense anger in Exodus, but at the end, defiance as well. The audience responded powerfully,
rising to their feet to applaud.
Paul Taylor’s dances, with their sculptural physicality and
their humane theatricality would seem well suited to the
Ailey dancers, and they fit with artistic director Robert Battle
mission to keep the company connected to modern dance’s
legacy. Yet the troupe hasn’t clicked with them yet. The 12
dancers certainly looked handsome in Taylor’s Piazzolla
Caldera, set to the marvelous tango music of Astor Piazzolla,
wearing Santo Loquasto’s flowered dresses over garters and stockings for the women, suit pants and open vests
for the men. But they missed the taut energy, the sharp, flicking rhythm, the sense of tension in the music and
between bodies that give this dance its physical excitement and emotional drama, its sense of thwarted longing.
In Taylor’s Arden Court, which the troupe first did in 2011, they looked tense. Here they were too loose. The
normally commanding Linda Celeste Sims, as a yearning woman left out of the whirl of the dance, had plenty
of sexual heat, but lacked emotional dimension. A male duet, performed by Daniel Harder and Michael Francis
McBride, which should be rife with sexual tension, instead came off as comic. The most compelling couple was
Roberts and Rachael McLaren.
It was interesting to see contemporary ballet choreographer
Christopher Wheeldon’s haunting After the Rain Pas de
Deux done by Roberts and Akua Noni Parker. Certainly
they’re extraordinarily accomplished artists, although they
don’t have the sharp line, slimness, extension and ethereal
lightness of classical dancers. But Roberts and Parker bring
other qualities to After the Rain; a fullness, a lush, deliberate
muscularity, and a tender deliberation that can be very
moving.
Given
that the Ailey company has been performing their beloved
gospel dance Revelations for over 50 years, and the current
dancers perform it multiple times a year, it’s something of a
miracle that it stays fresh. The steps, though they can be
very challenging, are often quite simple. But each dancer,
each time, is completely absorbed. During the jubilant
finale, it’d be easy for them to go on auto-pilot. But each
one is a little bit different, the men tilting their heads and
smiling at the finger-shaking, fanning women, their
expressions changing, responding to each other. You may
not see those details from far away. But you feel them, each
one of them, dancing.