Paul Taylor: Lines of Loss, Piece Period, Airs

The world is an off-kilter, perhaps incomprehensibly violent place in Paul Taylor’s restive new work, “Lines of Loss,” which had its West Coast premiere when San Francisco Performances presented the Paul Taylor Dance Company at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts in San Francisco on Tuesday night.

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear,” author C.S. Lewis once wrote, and the observation rings truer than ever in “Lines of Loss,” where grief intermingles with danger, and the choreographer offers no easy answers as to why.

Silhouetted against Santo Loquasto’s immense, darkly striated background, the eleven dancers process onto the stage as if entering a church. The mood is one of barely contained emotion, rumbling under the polite white unitards, and running like an undercurrent in the music -- by composers as various as Guillaume de Machaut, Christopher Tye, Jac Body, John Cage, Arvo Part and Alfred Snittke.

Each section of the ballet takes its title from the last name of the composer, which leaves a certain implication hanging in the air. In “Tye,” Lisa Viola’s heartfelt contractions and pulls of the back suggested a soul yearning to break free, while Robert Kleinendorst’s twitchy solo in “Body” described a strange loss of self-control.

But not just portraits of grief, Taylor also turns to scenes that grieve us. In “Cage” spiky pairs of men pound the floor rhythmically, and menace two women who have wandered into their clutches – Julie Tice and Michelle Fleet—and in a second section titled “Tye,” a seemingly idyllic community fractures into fisticuffs.

It was an enigmatic ballet that at times seemed to make the audience uneasy – between sections there was often only rapt silence instead of the usual unnecessary applause. By the time a tempestuous Annmaria Mazzini unfurled a trembling and searing solo in the center of the circle of dancers, the sense of high emotion was palpable in the room.

For the Paul Taylor Dance Company this season marks the last installment of a five-year running engagement at San Francisco Performances, and if you’ve been putting off seeing the company, now is the time to go, because the 53-year old troupe isn’t planning to return to SFP until 2009. A prolific choreographer, Taylor’s works range from the exhilarating abstractions to darkly ominous mediations to bright comic fluff, and this opening program, like the other two which the company performs through Sunday, had a taste of each.

The evening’s comic relief came wrapped up in Taylor’s 1962 “Piece Period,” a relatively jolly, but also relatively forgettable bit of slapstick. You know you’re in for a bit of a romp when the curtain goes up on Richard Chen See in parti-colored tights and tunic with a jaunty beret on his head. “Piece Period” which the company hasn’t revived since 1979, sports an oddball menagerie of characters in some kind of absurdist village, dancing to another mix of Vivaldi, Telemann, Haydn, Scarlatti, Beethoven and Francesco Bonporti.

Daffy without being too dimwitted, “Piece Period” flaunted some of Taylor’s most engaging dancers, Viola in a blue bustier flashing sly glints at the audience, Kleinendorst all bluster in candy red waistcoat and powdered wig, and a mincing triumvirate of women in pie crust collars bouncing hip bolsters under their skirts. The cartoons kept coming, and the dancers played them for all they were worth, with Amy Young notable for her ability to make silliness look classy.

The evening closed with one of Taylor’s most satisfying ballets, the 1978 “Airs,” to the music of G.F. Handel. If Taylor’s choreography idiosyncrasies--those familiar circle dances, the peripatetic meanderings into and out of groups, the characteristic curved arms—look tired in other later works, here the patterns and steps hang together organically, with a sweeping logic that still allows the individual dancers to breathe freely. Parisa Khobdeh’s beguiling zest and Young’s gentle sways into spiral shapes stood out, as did Laura Halzack’s serene arms in the dreamy finale.

Diablo Ballet: Remembering Hamlet, Dancing Miles, Grand Pas d'Action

Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” has been pared to its essence in Viktor Kabaniaev’s “Remembering Hamlet,” which Diablo Ballet unveiled at its weekend performances at the Dean Lesher Regional Center for the Arts last Friday and Saturday.

Staged as a three-person drama, Kabaniaev’s latest work offers an abstract, capsule view of inner turmoil – a meeting in Purgatory of the three lost souls of one of Shakespeare’s most oft-cited tragedies.

The arrangement is simple, like a severe ikebana. Three lonely figures -- who start out sitting primly on black, coffin-like boxes -- each dance one by one in Expressionist, almost emotional solos. Lauren Main de Lucia, in a blood-red dress, devours the stage with deep Martha Graham-like stretches; Tina Kay Bohnstedt, in white, ripples as she pours backwards over the edge of her box; and as the central man of inaction, Edward Stegge turns his solo into a continuous throw of momentum with pulses of movement that seem to ripple outward through his limbs.

There is, nevertheless, some room for refinement in this production, which uses an atmospheric mix of music by Dmitri Shostakovich combined with vibrating basso sounds created on a metal sculpture by local artist and musician Nicolas Van Krijdt. The musical score capably builds in tension, although not-quite-intelligible quotes from the play—read in low monotones—bring no further clarity to the scene and seem unnecessary. We all know who the players are and the spoken lines bring an odd note of literality that jars one out of the meditative experience.

Still, “Remembering Hamlet” made for an intriguingly moody interlude in an otherwise fairly bright and upbeat program, which opened with Main and David Fonnegra in a peppy version of the famous duet for the Liberty Belle and El Capitan from George Balanchine’s rousing John Philip Sousa-inspired “Stars and Stripes.” If Main’s Belle tended a bit too much toward the simpering, still she displayed a satisfying technical strength, while Fonnegra’s cavalier put out loads of jaunty vigor, all adding up to a pleasant pairing with solid chemistry.

Also on the program was former Diablo dancer Kelly Teo’s 1999 “Dancing Miles,” which looked much better in the more intimate setting of the Lesher Center than at its Zellerbach Hall outing in January. Set to tunes recorded by Miles Davis such as “In a Silent Way,” “Someday My Prince Will Come,” and “Time after Time,” Teo’s loose jazzy, Bob Fosse shoulder and arm moves mixed with some compact bullet-speed choreography bore a lot of similarity to his own style as a dancer. Although the piece as a whole broke no new ground, its light humor and perky energy sat comfortably on the three couples -- in particular Mayo Sugano and Matthew Linzer.

The evening closed with co-artistic director Nikolai Kabaniaev’s humorous 1996 ballet-meets modern diversion, “Grand Pas d’Action.” By turns fluid and then slapstick, “Grand Pas d’Action” pits quotes from the famous classical ballets -- it’s even set to music by the late Romantic composer Alexander Glazunov – against modern freeform. Cartoonish and goofy, nevertheless, it had a few serious moments, many of them delivered by Cynthia Sheppard, who was notable as the modern dancer who throws caution to the wind, and herself at the balletically vainglorious Jekyns Pelaez. Linzer, as Sheppard’s modern dance cohort teamed again with Sugano, in full tutu and tiara regalia, to round out the cast.

San Francisco Ballet: Eden/Eden, Chi-Lin, Spring Rounds, Pacific, The Fifth Season,Carousel, Fancy Free

The landscape is spare, but far from serene in “Eden/Eden,” Wayne McGregor’s ambitious and compelling ballet, which San Francisco Ballet gave its American premiere on Program 4 of their repertory season on Tuesday night. This is risky work for SFB, but ultimately both rewarding and haunting.

Created originally for the Stuttgart Ballet, “Eden/Eden” is ostensibly about cloning, but, never simplistic, it’s also a meditation on the seductive intersection of technology and the human machine.

“The process is as follows,” intones one of the five unseen vocalists in a scientific drone. Over the pulsing Steve Reich score from his opera “Three Tales”—conducted here by Gary Sheldon—their measured monologue sets us initially in the midst of the cloning debate.

Muriel Maffre, in flesh-colored skivvies and skullcap, ascends into a stark spotlight, all androgynous, hairless muscle, while projections assembled by Ravi Deepres unfold like a universe behind her. Maffre has never had a problem with finding the beauty in an ugly line, and in “Eden/Eden” she makes the most of a torqued spine and limbs yanked in every direction. Joined in a weirdly agonistic duet by Gonzalo Garcia, they create a vision of biology gone haywire.

Like Autons, the creepy mannequins of sci-fi’s “Dr. Who,” the dancers seem to multiply, eventually filling the stage with flails, as if the impulses for each movement were directed from the wrong nerve endings. Bathed in Charles Balfour’s sickly green-gray light, the figures in this fearsome gymnasium are nearly impossible to tell apart. And the whole exercise becomes even more disturbing when they shed their skullcaps and don Ursula Bombshell’s tunics to become individuals. There’s a moment of mental resistance--you don’t want to believe that these “Bladerunner” replicants could ever become human.

McGregor--whose metier in his own company, Random Dance, is modern dance-- has his own lexicon of movement that is far from ballet-based, although curiously he utilizes the women’s pointe work effectively, perhaps because his understanding of the technique stems from expediency rather than tradition. Nevertheless, the dancers eat up this style and spit it out like nails, offering performances of surprising depth and aggression. If you find yourself seduced by the physical beauty and apparent perfection of the alien uber-humans before you--including Katita Waldo, Pascal Molat, Rory Hohenstein, Jaime Garcia Castilla, Moises Martin, and notably corps members Dana Genshaft and Hayley Farr-- you might notice that there are no apples on the silvery tree hovering in this Eden. That fruit has been plucked and we’ve all taken a big bite.

Only a few weeks ago, when William Forsythe brought his company to Cal Performances, I wondered idly if San Francisco Ballet would ever perform a piece like his “Three Atmospheric Studies,” a complex, heavily text-based, but thrilling work with almost no traditional ballet steps. We have our answer. SFB Artistic Director Helgi Tomasson has taken an enormous risk in presenting McGregor’s very unpretty, but very absorbing work, and we can only hope that there more of these sort of challenges lie in the future.

In a different vein, two other works premiered on the ballet’s Program 5 on Thursday night—none more anticipated than Christopher Wheeldon’s “Carousel (A Dance),” made originally for New York City Ballet. Set to excerpts from Richard Rodgers’ “Carousel” –the grand “Carousel” waltz and “If I Loved You”—this version offers a sketched, dream ballet of Julie’s ill-fated romance with smooth-talking carny Billy, danced on Thursday by Sarah van Patten and Pierre-François Vilanoba. In a lemon-colored dress with matching ribbon, Van Patten brings a lovely unsuspecting freshness to her role, although Vilanoba is perhaps a little too likeable to convince as her no-account beau.

The main weakness in this “Carousel,” though, is the choreography. Wheeldon jam-packs every count with steps and the result, while impressive, hasn’t quite nailed the feeling of giddy freedom. Many of the lifts in Van Patten and Vilanoba’s duet were lovely, but with all the swooning and the swooping happening early in their waltz, there was very little room for emotional build.

Wheeldon might do well to take a look at Jerome Robbins’ “Fancy Free,” which got more than a little lift from Molat, Anderson and Garcia as a trio of roguish sailors on shore leave. The young Robbins—who reportedly refined and pared back the more cartoonish antics of this larky 1944 vignette—offers more bang for your buck with a twitch of an eyebrow than all the swooning lifts in the world can accomplish. If the dancers (and the orchestra) could have been a little looser and jazzier to match the bounding Leonard Bernstein score, it was nonetheless a delightful excursion that brought an instant smile to the lips from the first burst of energy onstage.

Filling out Program 4 were the Arcadian gambols of Paul Taylor’s “Spring Rounds,” led on Tuesday night by Vanessa Zahorian and Garrett Anderson, and Helgi Tomasson’s “Chi-Lin” with an inscrutable Yuan Yuan Tan in the title role. Program 5 saw the return of Mark Morris’ “Pacific” and Tomasson’s “The Fifth Season,” with the music delivered under the capable baton of Martin West.

Alvin Ailey diva gets unexpected -- but wholly appropriate -- 25th anniversary gift

You could say the Earth moved for Renee Robinson, the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater diva who celebrated her 25th anniversary with the company in a special performance at UC Berkeley's Zellerbach Hall last week.

Of course, it moved a little more than the dancers might have liked, but the New York-based company seems to take in stride little things like Thursday's 4.2 magnitude temblor, which struck during intermission.

Read on the Chronicle site.