Paul Taylor: Still Creating

Masterpieces
Editor CriticalDance

Paul Taylor American Modern Dance

David H. Koch Theater
Lincoln Center
New York, New York

March 17, 2018 afternoon: Aureole, Changes, Eventide, Piazzolla

Caldera
March 17, 2018 evening: Musical Offering, The Beauty in Gray (new
Arias), Arden Court
March 22, 2018: Dances of Isadora, Concertiana (new Taylor),
Promethean Fire

— by Jerry Hochman

In recent years, Iʼve approached Paul Taylor programs that included

newly-choreographed Taylor dances with some level of trepidation.
Whether one appreciates them or not, his recent choreographic
efforts have been less than stellar, and, after being around for so
long, one might expect the company to gradually lose its performing
edge.

Not so.

On the contrary, based on the three performances that are the

subject of this review as well as the two already reviewed, this
Lincoln Center season of Paul Taylor American Modern Dance has
been, to put it mildly, remarkable. Every program. Every time. It was

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 not only a season filled with Paul Taylorʼs Greatest Hits, but also one
of a company facing the future with open arms.

Thereʼs a lot to get to here. The highlights: clear evidence in

Concertiana that Paul Taylor is alive and well and still
choreographing brilliant dance, Sara Mearnsʼs star turn in Dances of
Isadora, and a particularly meaningful way to say goodbye to a loved
member of a dance company family.

The logical way to address it all is to do it in viewing order. But, after

seeing a program as brilliant overall as the one on Thursday
evening, thatʼs the one Iʼll start with, and focus on. The other
performances, unfortunately, will have to be covered afterward, and
in summary fashion.

March 23

I wrote previously that I was forced to miss the premiere of Paul

Taylorʼs new creation because of one of the norʼeaster de quatre
that pummeled this area. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise,
as the program I selected to replace it was easily one of the finest
modern dance – or any dance – programs that Iʼve seen.

Of all the performing opportunities that Sara Mearns might have

selected to expand her stage presence beyond being a Principal
with New York City Ballet, dancing solo excerpts made famous by
Isadora Duncan would not seem to be a particularly good fit.
Duncan was known for dancing sensually, for imbuing emotion into
every movement; Mearns is known for dancing ballet exquisitely,
but, with rare exception, injecting an overabundance of pathos into
roles that donʼt call for it. But if you look beyond that, in the roles in
which she broke free from perceived choreographic constraints, she
flashed moments of seeming expressiveness that were startlingly

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 unexpected, and startlingly good. Alexei Ratmanskyʼs Odessa and
Justin Peckʼs Rōdē,ō: Four Dance Episodes (as it was originally
titled) come immediately to mind, but there have been others. And
physically she appears somewhat more fleshy than most other
NYCB ballerinas (save your emails – itʼs relative; sheʼs still ballerina-
thin); she fits the Duncan image.

It became apparent early on not only that Mearns was adequate to

recreate Duncan imagery, sheʼs perfect for it. [I discovered later that
this was not her first attempt at Duncan – last year she got her bare
feet wet in a program of Duncan dances at the Joyce Theater.] And
Dances of Isadora, the title given to this suite of Duncan dances to
familiar music by Chopin and Brahms, is a perfect vehicle for
recreating Duncanʼs impact as well. Curated and staged by Lori
Belilove, described as a third generation Duncan dancer via “direct”
lineage, the suite provides a trajectory of stereotypical Duncan
images, from displaying nymph-like purity in one dance to capturing
the freedom of a butterfly in another; from celebrating life in one
dance to mourning its loss in another.

In every way, in each of the solo dances, Mearns was absolutely

stunning (abetted by solo pianist Cameron Grant, who has treated
NYCB audiences to his magnificent renditions for over 30 years). It
wasnʼt that she dominated the dance – Duncanʼs image did – but
her absorption of what those of us who werenʼt there believe to be
Duncanʼs character as expressed in her dances was … perfect, with
appropriate expressions of joy and sorrow coupled with movement
that was both light and weighted, and that looked spontaneous. And
her costume (by Belilove) made it appear as if sheʼd stepped out of
a Maxfield Parrish poster (Duncanʼs life overlapped the art nouveau
movement). Except for the polish of her execution, Mearnsʼs stage
persona here was light years distant from her usual doleful ballerina

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 persona. In Dances of Isadora, she was a sensual earth goddess for
the 21st century.

Concertiana is, perhaps, an Esplanade for the 21st century; without

doubt itʼs the finest dance that Taylor has created in years.

The dance is choreographed to unidentified music by contemporary

composer Eric Ewazen. Iʼm not familiar with Ewazenʼs work, but
based on this piece, whatever it may have been, thatʼs my loss.
[Ewazen was composer-in-residence for the Orchestra of St. Lukeʼs,
which provided the live orchestral accompaniment for the PTAMD
performances at the DHK Theater. Concerto for Violin and String
Orchestra (1997) reportedly was the final piece he created during
that residency, and the violin solo at the time was performed by
Krista Feeney, who masterfully performed the violin solo during
Thursday nightʼs performance. I suspect that this was the Ewazen
composition, and it would not at all surprise me if someone at the
Orchestra of St. Lukeʼs brought the piece to Taylorʼs attention.]

The music is generally fast-paced. But the dominating sound

provided by the solo violin and accompanying strings has a dark
contemporary edge to it in its opening and closing andante
movements (as I listened, I thought of an orchestral version of The
Beatlesʼ Eleanor Rigby, but stronger, faster, richer, and deeper), and
a soulful adagio midsection, all of which Taylor accesses and
reflects expertly.

At first, the dance appears to be a series of images (dancers

parading back and forth in front of the rear scrim – which is
illuminated in different colors as segments of the dance progress –
while featured dancers perform downstage) and odd-looking
movement that make no sense (initially, strange, slinky side-to-side

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 movement, accompanied at various points by the dancers
assembling in moving lines or circles), and the unattractive-looking
unitard costumes in striated blue (primarily) and white seemed a
rare misfire from William Ivey Long, but I suppose they match the
jaggedy “striations” of sort that permeate Taylorʼs choreography.

But also early on, one sees one woman leaping into the arms of one
of the men, which immediately conjures images of Esplanade –
though the execution and temperament seem very different. And
the parade of dancers back and forth and in circles, often
accompanied by starchly flexed arms, is the same natural street
movement that Taylor mined so brilliantly in Esplanade: walking,
running, falling – but here he adds hopping, crawling, and other
examples of “natural” movement, all culminating in an ending thatʼs
as enchanting as that in Esplanade … but different.

Peppered throughout the piece are featured solos and duets by

most members of the seven men and four women cast, the most
noteworthy to me being a remarkably powerful solo by Alex Clayton,
a delightful romantic (sort of) duet for Madelyn Ho and [to be
provided], and the central solo, a marvel of variety and complexity
and understated emotion, delivered magnificently by Heather
McGinley. Eran Bugge, Christina Lynch Markham, James Samson,
Sean Mahoney, Michael Apuzzo, Michael Novak, George Smallwood,
and Lee Duveneck completed the superb cast.

When the piece concluded, the audience reception was rapturous –

even more so than for Mearns, and I thought that was unusually
vociferous. But nothing prepared me for the audience reception for
Promethean Fire, which began with an ovation as the curtain rose
(this audience was alive), and which concluded with a remarkable
thunderous standing ovation.

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 Iʼve reviewed Promethean Fire previously, so Iʼll limit my comments.
Choreographed in 2002, itʼs Taylorʼs unstated memorial to 9/11, and
is perhaps even more of a masterpiece than other Taylor
masterpieces. Between the relentless aggregated Bach music and
the relentless power of Taylorʼs choreography, it is the model of an
abstract dance that hits every note, translates every image
unambiguously if not obviously (the twin towers are there; the
planes are there; the terror is there; the destruction is there; the
chaos is there; the loss of life is there; the sense of helplessness is
there – itʼs all there), and ultimately that celebrates the triumph of
the human spirit.

Iʼve not seen Promethean Fire performed less than magnificently,

but Thursday nightʼs performance – maybe because of the quality of
the pieces that preceded it – seemed particularly moving and
meaningful. Led by Parisa Khobdeh (what an incredibly glorious
season this fifteen year Paul Taylor Dance Company veteran has
had) and Michael Trusnovec (now in his twentieth season with
PTDC, and still one of the most powerful dance presences
anywhere), the 8/8 cast danced brilliantly.

And the entire performance was immeasurably enhanced by the

superb orchestral sound of the Orchestra of St. Lukeʼs, led by David
LaMarche (for Concertiana) and Donald York (for Promethean Fire).
If I closed my eyes, I could hear the New York City Ballet Orchestra –
they were that good.

Itʼs one thing for individual performances relating to love lost or

found, to betrayal and redemption, or to tragic death, to be so
emotionally compelling that they can move one to tears. Itʼs quite
another for an evening of non-narrative dance executed by an entire
company to culminate with the same result – the program, and the

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 performances, were that good.

***

Audiences for both programs on March 17 were supplied with a

supplement to the usual Playbill: a pamphlet lovingly celebrating the
life of Elizabeth Ann Walton LeBlanc, a member of PTDC from 1959
to 1966, who originated roles in several Taylor dances during that
period. She died this past November.

The insert included a lengthy description of her contribution to the

company during her tenure with them and after, as well as
photographs of her in performance and with a very young Paul
Taylor. One of the roles she originated was in Taylorʼs Aureole, which
was performed that afternoon – its only performance this season. I
suspect that Aureole was included in that program in her memory.
And Musical Offering, which opened the eveningʼs program, may
also been scheduled in her honor.

The affection that the entire company, and Taylor, had and continue
to have for her is palpable, and the manner in which PTAMD
honored her memory is a testament to her, and to the companyʼs
character. Itʼs the way beloved dancers should be remembered.

I never saw Liz Walton dance, but I wish I had.

***

March 17, afternoon

Part of what makes a work of art memorable, that makes a classic a

classic, is that whenever youʼre ready and/or able to return to it, itʼll
still be there.

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 The first time I saw PTDC, in the early 1970s, was on Broadway,
during a week-long series of programs of then contemporary dance
presented by a variety of different companies. The PTDC program
was the first of the programs I saw; it was my introduction to
“modern dance.” And the last piece on the program sent me home
flying, reflecting the phenomenon of kinetic transference that came
to mean so much to me as I continued to educate myself in dance.
That dance was Aureole.

Aureole was revived several seasons ago, but I was unable to see it
then. This time, I didnʼt miss the opportunity.

Created in 1962, Aureole was Taylorʼs first significant “hit” with both
audiences and critics. Now, although it shows itʼs age a bit, itʼs still
exhilarating. One wants to fly into the wings upon seeing Taylorʼs
dancers fly into the wings. And its balance of weighted into-the-
floor movement with lyricism, of modern dance movement a la
Taylor with “normal” movement, and its reliance on classical
(Baroque) music, provides a roadmap of sorts for what followed: its
antecedent connections to Esplanade, for example, are apparent.
Revisiting it was akin to reconnecting with an old friend.

Changes is a different matter. There isnʼt anything wrong with this

2008 piece, but as good as the dancers were, and as much as I love
the songs of The Mamas and The Papas, music that kept me going
in college, Changes doesnʼt go beyond being a nostalgic, and
somewhat unsympathetic, reflection of the period.

Unlike, say, Pascal Rioultʼs Fire in the Sky, Changes looks and
attempts to recreate the period epitomized by The Mamas and The
Papas music and lifestyle and the multiple societal revolutions that
occurred concurrently, but it does so from the outside looking in;

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 you watch it happen, but it doesnʼt take you there and make you a
part of it. And itʼs loaded with unfortunate caricatures that detract
from any sense of meaning beyond the moment. These flower
children may have had their hearts in the right place, but after
dabbling in social change, the dance seems to say, they went back
to doing their own strange, liberated, self-indulgent things, leaving
the tougher work of societal change to others.

With that understanding, and limitation, in mind, the dances

themselves are fun. Particularly impressive were the implicit
characterizations of The Mamas and Papas themselves by
Trusnovec, Novak, Kristin Draucker and Khobdeh – although that
observation has limitations: Trusnovec and Novak were moving
images of John Phillips and Denny Doherty (though, with the
costumes and added hair, I couldnʼt tell which was which), and
Draucker was wonderful as what I saw as a stand-in for Michelle
Phillips, but Khobdeh is not in any way Mama Cass (and fortunately
didnʼt try to be). Other highlights included Markham, mesmerizing
as the lead in the California Earthquake dance, Laura Halzack as the
irresistible siren in I Call Your Name, and Samson and Apuzzo in
Dancing Bear – the only dance that was really imaginative and
memorable. And California Dreaminʼ provided the opportunity for a
rousing conclusion – preceding an unfortunate denouement.

Eventide, however, is a different matter. To music by Ralph Vaughan

William (Suite for Violin and Orchestra and Hymn-Tune Prelude, No.
1), evocative sets and costumes by Santo Loquasto, and lighting by
Jennifer Tipton, the piece, which was created in 1997 but which Iʼd
not previously seen, seems a direct descendant of his 1985 Roses
coupled with a sense of Antony Tudorʼs The Leaves Are Fading –
except instead of memories at the end of summer/end of a life,
Taylor is displaying relationships as they develop on summer

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 evenings. Itʼs not sappy as that description sounds – itʼs lovely and
ceaselessly (and seamlessly) enveloping. And although thereʼs a
sense of similarity arising from the setting and the music, each of
the 5 couplesʼ dances is sufficiently distinctive that interest is
maintained throughout.

The program concluded with a sizzling performance of Piazzolla

Caldera, Taylorʼs marvelous paean to the Argentine Tango
presented from the point of view of “ordinary” people looking for a
nightʼs adventure rather than from elite clientele in a highly-stylized
ballroom environment. It deserves more space than I can now give it
here. Suffice it to say that although it includes those aspects of
tango that are immediately recognizable – the physicality, sensuality,
and equal-opportunity aggressiveness – it also weaves modern
dance sensibilities, passion, humor, and daring partnering into the
mix. It left the audience in a justifiable frenzy.

March 17, evening

To say that Musical Offering is another Taylor masterpiece doesnʼt

say the half of it. Bach created A Musical Offering in 1747 at the
behest of the Frederick the Great of Prussia to compose a fugue
based on royal music themes. In Taylorʼs creative mind, however,
Bachʼs music takes on a different character entirely. The subtitle of
Musical Offering is “a requiem” – and thatʼs what it is. But itʼs also a
celebration of a life.

Supposedly, much of the movement quality is based on primitive

movement and appearance that Taylor distilled from New Guinea
sculptures, but to me, that aspect of it is far less important than its
sense of loss, regardless of the geographic pigeon-hole in which
stylistic sublevels may have originated.

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 The piece begins with Khobdeh angled facing the upstage left
corner, an arm outraised, as if in searching for a life no longer there.
Through the fifteen interconnected segments thereafter, Taylor
takes the viewer on a reflection of the life of the fallen woman, and
her ascent from life to an afterlife (a remarkable sequence in which
Fleet is repeatedly maneuvered downward and upward) in the
memory of those who remain.

What Taylor says in Musical Offering is as profound as what he later

said in Promethean Fire, but far less strident and triumphant, and far
more reverential and compassionate. Ultimately, and perhaps as a
reflection of its musical origin, Musical Offering is a commentary on
the humanity, and the nobility, of death, of a life well-lived, and of
the persistence of memory. Itʼs a remarkably moving – in all senses
of the word – work of art.

Compared to the Taylor pieces, Bryan Ariasʼs The Beauty in Gray,

which had its world premiere earlier this season, is on a much less
cosmic scale. While the musical accompaniment primarily by Nico
Muhly (the final piece in the assembled mix is by Olafur Arnalds) is
accessible and almost melodic (except for the occasional crashing
sound that comes out of nowhere and seems to have no purpose
beyond awakening those who may have dozed), the piece suffers
from its limited scope and its presentation between Taylor
masterpieces.

Essentially, The Beauty in Gray examines several relationships, and

observes that things change and are not always what they appear to
be. That is, that relationships, that human interactions, arenʼt black
or white, but should be seen as shades of gray. Itʼs not a bad piece,
and Arias avoids the temptation to over-choreograph – even though
thereʼs a large cast (9/9), the piece focuses on visualizations of

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 individual relationships. Perhaps on a different program, The Beauty
in Gray might be displayed to better advantage.

The evening concluded with another masterful performance of

Arden Court.

As I mentioned previously, PTAMD will not be returning to Lincoln

Center until Fall, 2019. Thatʼs a long time to wait between
masterpieces.

Categories: Modern/Contemporary Dance

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