Northern Lights

by Janet Anderson

Our neighbors to the north, Les Grands Ballets Canadiens de Montreal, came to Annenberg's Dance Celebration series bearing the gift of dances by three of the finest living experimental choreographers: Mats Ek, Nacho Duato and Jiri Kylian. While not exactly household names, they are revered in dance circles, and this night, proved why.

Of these, Ek was the most astonishing. His Solo for Two is simply one of the most beautiful and strange dances imaginable. Arvo Part's delicate music plays lightly as Ek's witty, erotic romance unfolds. A man in blue pajamas enters through the doorway, signaling in ways overt and silly his frustration and lust. A lady wearing a gray nightgown cautiously approaches. The two face each other immobilized, disrobe, and remain motionless while the stairway shudders lustily, symbolizing, one supposes, their union. They carefully re-dress wearing each other's clothing. They've become interchangeable, identities blurred and roles reversed. Dancers Alisia Pobega and Mariusz Ostrowski were the beguiling couple—wonderful movers and subtle actors. The psychological minidrama unfolded in movements of breathtaking simplicity coupled with humor—with the spare backdrop of a wall, a doorway and a bank of stairs. It's as though the inventiveness of Pilobolus was refined through Mark Morris' intelligence. Ek's movement vocabulary couldn't be more idiosyncratic, yet accessible.

Originally choreographed for American Ballet Theatre, Duato's Without Words was danced to Schubert love songs. Wearing flesh-colored tights, four couples performed under black-and-white still images of themselves projected overhead. Thus, Duato set up the tension of the still image, occasionally mirroring exactly what was happening for an instant onstage. Dancers rolled out from under the curtain or emerged from it to greet a partner as their still image hovered. At first this seemed merely clever, but as the dance continued, the images overhead began to punctuate the movement—simultaneously reminding us that dance is ephemera and yet utterly concrete. (Then, again, it may have been merely clever.)

Sechs Tanze (Six Dances) from Kylian ended the evening, with simulated champagne bubbles drifting from above to fill the stage space. With the gentlemen wearing 18th-century white periwigs and ladies in their own white bustiers and petticoats, it looked visually like something out of opera bouffe. The white-powdered and white-dressed dancers emerged like clowns out of a darkened doorway, staring at the audience in surprise. Seeing us, they sent drifts of powder overhead as they cavorted around the stage like cartoon characters, assuming silly poses, taking pratfalls, pulling each other offstage. The music sprightly Mozart, the mood strictly Amadeus, Tanze was a gorgeous, funny romp polishing off the remarkable evening.

Les Grands Ballets Canadiens de Montreal Nov. 11, Annenberg Center