REVIEW: Alvin Ailey company offers ‘Ode’ to gun-violence victims
Photo: Ode is a new dance choreographed by Jamar Roberts for Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. Photo courtesy of Paul Kolnik / Provided by AAADT with permission.
NEW YORK — The full graceful and kinetic power of Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater is on display when the company combines the old with the new, and that’s because the old never feels old, and the new can often be spellbinding. The troupe, originally founded by Ailey and now run by artistic director Robert Battle, has creatively documented the African-American experience, and celebrated diversity and choreographic expression for decades. A recent performance at New York City Center, where the company continues through Jan. 5, proves that they have not lost any of their precision or pathos.
The Dec. 10 evening, set aside to celebrate The Ailey School’s 50th anniversary, began and ended with two Ailey-choreographed works, including 1979’s Memoria and the company’s signature piece, 1960’s Revelations.
Sandwiched in between was the world premiere of Ode, a new dance from Jamar Roberts, a company member who was recently named resident choreographer for AAADT. This powerful 17-minute work features six male dancers offering an “ode” to victims of gun violence.
The sextet of performers brings Roberts’ vision to life before a backdrop draped with flowers, perhaps a simultaneous celebration of life and recognition of deeper funereal themes. Scene design is by Libby Stadstad, and lighting by Brandon Stirling Baker. Roberts pulls double duty and is also credited for costume design.
Jeroboam Bozeman, a dancer recently profiled by Hollywood Soapbox, seemed to take the lead character position throughout the work, dancing center stage and having his movements instigate chain reactions amongst his colleagues.
Bozeman, who was also featured in Memoria that night, is a graceful, energetic and commanding performer, someone who seems to internalize the dance vocabulary and offer expressive accompaniment with every part of his body. He is focused yet free, structured yet unique. His performance in Ode is a true highlight and lingers for a while because he has a way to offer individualized prowess and yet rely on the support of his fellow dancers. This bifurcated quality of Ode, which is repeated a few times this Ailey season, is also what makes Roberts’ choreographic work so exciting: these dancers cannot unhinge themselves from one another. Perhaps that’s a comment on the sacred and sad bond of gun-violence victims.
There’s one sequence in Ode that finds the dancers lining up in the center of the expansive City Center stage and holding one another’s arms. Then three of the performers dip right, while three dip left — creating a portrait of men linked, men grasping, men about to fall. These movements and others throughout the piece are wonderfully complemented by a discordant jazz score by Don Pullen.
The balletic sequence ends with a poignant scene of mourning that finds the dancers hovering over the body of a fallen character. It’s a shocking finale, one that sees the kinetic vocabulary come to a faltering, touching end, with only those memories left for the audience to consider.
Memoria, the first piece of the evening, features a larger group of dancers, all swinging and swaying to Ailey’s choreography, restaged by Masazumi Chaya, associate artistic director for the company. The piece, which press notes indicate was Ailey’s tribute to his deceased friend Joyce Trisler, is somber yet effusive. This is a “memoria” that serves as a celebration of life.
The dance, running 26 minutes, starts in a solemn tone, with Keith Jarrett’s music slowly gaining in ferocity. Each of the dancers seems to be caught in their own world, perhaps their own memories, and the entire City Center stage plays host to a dozen individual jazz operas. They are coordinated in their isolation, distinct and yet somehow connected. Eventually, as the music changes, the dancers start working in unison with one another.
Eventually a solo female artist wearing a red dress takes center stage and becomes the narrative thrust for the rest of the work. Perhaps this is the visual embodiment of Ailey’s friend. Her dancing is both vibrant and celebratory, a nod to a joy-filled life lived with love and friends.
The finale for the evening was Ailey’s masterpiece, a dance that must be experienced at least once in life (although this reviewer has seen it at least 10 times by now). Revelations is nearing its 60th anniversary, and it still stirs the heart and exudes devotional energy. On this special evening, students with The Ailey School joined the company members.
Ailey, according to press notes, was influenced by his upbringing at Mount Olive Baptist Church in Texas, and one can see the influence almost immediately by the song selection. There are many traditional spirituals sung throughout this 35-minute work, each focusing on different biblical passages and expressing emotion on the themes of penance, deliverance, baptism, preparation and embrace.
Revelations begins with the company number “I Been ‘Buked,” a quiet routine set in the twilight with the assembled dancers coming together into a tightly formed group, their arms ascending at sharp angles and falling in labored motions, offering an image of collective spirit and shared experience.
The tempo is ratcheted up with “Didn’t My Lord Deliver Daniel,” which has Patrick Coker, Courtney Celeste Spears and Khalia Campbell dancing moves that nicely accompany the upbeat music. “Fix Me, Jesus,” with Sarah Daley-Perdomo and Jermaine Terry, is a pas de deux that is beautiful in its simplicity and emotion, a fitting conclusion to Revelations‘ first part, dubbed “Pilgrim of Sorrow.”
Daley-Perdomo is a consummate performer who combines grace with power. She can dance with solace and sorrow in her movements, and these were on obvious display during “Fix Me, Jesus.” As a dancer, Daley-Perdomo has an ability to create imagery with her body that is startling in its poetry and impressive in its skill.
The “Take Me to the Water” section is highlighted by a rhythmic processional, the classic tune “Wade in the Water” and Clifton Brown’s genius rendition of “I Wanna Be Ready.” This reviewer has seen Brown over many seasons at Ailey, and he consistently stands out. His “I Wanna Be Ready” is poignancy incarnate. He moves through the motions with effortlessness and then slows down his arms and legs as he finds the final picture, almost like he’s posing. At times he is sitting on the floor, tapping the empty space, with an expectant air of reciprocity. He also repeats his choreography on either side of his body, adding a symmetrical measure to the dance. What’s done to the left is done to the right, and what remains is Brown in exquisite form, living the words of the traditional spiritual, arranged anew by James Miller.
Revelations hurdles toward an unforgettable finale with the “Move, Members, Move” section, featuring “Sinner Man” with James Gilmer, Christopher R. Wilson and Kanji Segawa. This sequence in the work, beautifully danced by the trio, is a crowd favorite because of the explosion of verve that seems to come over the performers. This is followed by “The Day Is Past and Gone,” “You May Run On” and the thrilling conclusion, which is repeated in an encore, “Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham.”
The costume design by Ves Harper still stands out in these final routines. The yellow dresses and hats of the female dancers and the vested suits of the male performers help the company reenact those early church days that Ailey experienced, offering further commentary on the themes of religious expression and communal spirit.
There is nothing like Revelations, and it takes on new power when coupled with such equally transfixing works as Ode and Memoria.
Ailey is back.
By John Soltes / Publisher / John@HollywoodSoapbox.com
The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater performs through Jan. 5 at New York City Center in Midtown Manhattan. Click here for more information and tickets.
