Dear Lord, Make Me Beautiful. Just the title of choreographer Kyle Abraham’s most recent dance seen at NYC’s Armory on Park Avenue on December 9 is gripping. A glorious sweep of a dance that moves through the seasons (a metaphor for time passing) as depicted in the spectacular, ever morphing set is expressed with delicacy, power and nuance by a man facing mortality. Abraham writes in the program, “My words and thoughts stammer where they used to sing. I dance in remembrance of the innocence in of my younger self.”
Surrounded by 16 young and robust dancers, Abraham is reminded of what once was. Mind you, Kyle Abraham is only 47 years old. However, the impact of his father’s dementia in his early 50s is a genesis of this dance. A discernable limp affects Abraham’s free-as-a-child opening run. Over and over, he loops the perimeter of the stage. His wide delighted smile on his open uncreased face is reflected in the empathetic faces of the audience who smile with him. As Abraham finally rests and bears witness, his fine dancers pair, or dance as soloists or rush as a herd in waves, then retreat to leave one or two behind. Sinuously expressive spines, high leg extensions, a light touch on another’s waist and quick chaîne turns keep the rhythm lively and responsive to composer Sam Crawford’s low oboe moans, fast plucks of violin strings and the jazzy trill of a horn played by the ensemble, yMusic.
The thrilling and dramatic set designed by Cao Yuxi (JAMES) seems to spill like a sheet of water from the top of the vast, hangar-like 55,000 square foot hall. The curved set reaches downward from the rafters to form a rounded pool like stage. On this backdrop screens pointillist dots that, like the 1880s Parisian painting style, coalesce to form a bigger picture. Over the course of an hour, the picture shifts from the deep greens of a forest where images of faces and trees are nearly discernable, to the glory of oranges, pinks and yellows that imperceptibly become deep purples and blues and by the end whites (is this heaven?) bisected by deep shadows. The dots pulse, disappear and re-organize. They quiver, as if alive. The dancers, costumed in off white, splattered with muted color, are seen in relief. The aging dancer, spotlit, has been washed cleaned, and if not transformed, then poignantly healed.
The renowned American ballet choreographer William Forsythe was raised in NY but famously ran Ballet Frankfurt for 20 years before establishing his own company. The remake of his notable 1996 dance entitled Trio, set on six Gibney Company dancers for their NYC Up Close performance on December 10 at New York Live Arts, was retitled Trio (of six). In this smaller theater of 184 seats, three men and three women, dressed in blue velvet and black tops and pants each pinpoint a spot of vulnerability– crook of the arm, under the armpit, crown of the knee, back of the neck, back of the wrist, bottom of the foot – as they rhythmically pulse forward from upstage before falling backward to begin again. Clips of Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 15, the Allegro movement, accompany the superb dancers as they shift to form trios, break apart and reform. The excitement builds as the ever-shifting groupings run to the edge of the stage and again thrust forward until formations are nearly exhausted. Arms sweep with the music, the lights go out, and we feel satisfied. Delightfully, Mr. Forsythe in the audience watched his captivating, newly reborn dance.
On December 13 Bard College’s Palinee (Rose) Maskati presented Atoms Never Rest on the 2024 Fall Senior Dance Concert. Rose explains that as a basis for the dance her interest in science drove her to research nuclear fusion, the force of energy, and magnetism. The psychology of friendship also comes into the mix.
Maskati and her friend, Ilan Guerrero Rosario walk with deliberation on the edge of the stage-in-the-round in the Fisher Center’s LUMA Theater before bisecting the stage on the diagonal. The two continuously pass one another. Occasionally, as the original soundscape (by Dean Sharp) stalls or quickens, they evade, pause or are caught in one another’s orbit. Guerrero Rosario’s gymnastic-based rolls and off the ground wide horizontal swings of the legs contrast with Maskati’s more upright ballet-based turns in attitude. She pulls him, he lifts her. They attempt to run through each other but are caught, nearly entwined, with their arms outstretched beyond the other with their fingers extended. A perceptible line of light shines between their bodies where they do not touch. The dancers smoothly rotate side by side, like the universe’s revolving atoms, hands hugging each other’s waists. As the green light fades, they embrace.
Catherine Tharin danced with the Erick Hawkins Dance Company touring nationally and internationally. She teaches dance studies and technique, is an independent dance and performance curator, choreographs, writes about dance for Side of Culture and Interlocutor, and is a reviewer for The Dance Enthusiast. She also writes for The Boston Globe. Catherine lives in Pine Plains, New York and New York City.
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