A.I.M graces the Joyce Theater

Two figures sit under a decorative tree in natural radiance. Their movements, beginning slow and elegant, show the delicate intent they hold in one another. Inviting piano keys begin as the two move with care, while caring for each other. They dance against a glowing golden-brown backdrop on a stage that tells us we are amid a familiar place. In this opening segment of A.I.M. by Kyle Abraham’s Joyce Theatre showcase, guest choreographer Maleek Washington paints a magical scene with emotions that engrain every pore of the audience, in a debuting piece entitled Uproot: love and legacy. As the piano builds, so do the movements, becoming more brisk even while retaining their softness. Gentle and nostalgic chants accompany the piano, filling up the entirety of the theater. Sounds so embodying they feel to be exuding from our own chests, internally. 

It is in this moment that I realize we are witnessing live musicianship, as two men sit just in front of the stage, among the audience. One, playing the piano and the other, a vocalist, both singing and composing live. As these musical elements build with the movements of the two figures on the stage, the partnership of their dance remains careful. They gaze into each other's eyes, almost in prayer, and their eyes show their long to protect one another. A third figure enters the stage in her own world, and we start to see a community building in reminiscent and contemporary whispers of West African rhythms, movements and aesthetics. The live music is powerful. Drums, claps, and chants radiate with the movers fluctuating in a flow from fast to slow, each dancer capturing their own beauty on the stage. Elegant extending arabesques, acrobatic melts to the floor. Maleek creates exquisite moments where dancers move individually, then catch each other in collective stillness. The piano building and calming, matched the hearts on the stage and as an observer we are enamored with the care that the dancers took for us. We are graced with one last couple who enters, whose partnership builds from skepticism to trust. Supportive and creative lifts are explored, and as an audience, we see the meticulousness each partner handles in the other. Maleek Washington tells us a story of ancestral care through these various choreographic elements, and just as observers we feel a part of their kin.

Next we are hit with 5 Minute Dance (You Drivin?). A piece created in collaboration with the USC Glorya Kaufman School of Dance class of 24’, and set to four student dancers. In this part of the show, we are bulldozed with sharp aesthetic lines and extensions from the talented group. Fierce and intellectual floor traveling moved them across all inches of the stage. This traveling infused acrobatics, controlled attitude turns and a complex varying of levels. Juxtaposing the first piece, we are shown a different type of partnership and partnering. In lieu of softness and care, is swiftness, keen edges and hard lines. In this exciting presentation, dynamic music matched dynamic movement. The music was intense and high energy and the movement spontaneous, electrifying and explosive. 

Just before intermission, we are introduced to the world premiere of MotorRover performed on this Saturday matinee by Tamisha A. Guy and Catherine Kirk. In what seems to begin in a friendly competitive dynamic, culminates in a mutual respectful journey. The piece is meant to be a conversation to the late Merce Cunningham’s Landrover. This aspect proves the piece's intricacy as it shows to hold multiple conversations within one, as the dancers also speak to each other through matching the quality of one another's movement. An exposed, non-traditional technical exhibition, the absence of sound leaves the presentation even more bare and maximizes the focus on the quality of modern and balletic technique that is strong within the choreography. They also use the entirety of the stage with leaps, hops, balances and directional changes. Through the dynamic of the two dancers, we see the conversation being had on all levels. I take it that, like Cunningham’s work, MotorRover could be speaking to human nature within correspondence and possibly even more specifically, within dance. Tendencies to outdo or a motivation to succeed, out-shine, win. 

However, it was clear that the dancers were embodied in a culture of and within learning. The two playfully spoke through their movement as they journeyed, and remained true to the concept of process. There were so many beautiful moments in this piece that equally conveyed an image of growth, a reality that many of us can relate to. One beautiful moment shows the air of competition broken when one dancer is left on stage and dances alone. At a moment where she struggles to attempt a difficult balance, the other dancer quietly appears from the wings in careful and concentrated support, soon we see a community build around, holding her weight as she raises her extension. Herein, the concept of process is truly at the forefront and through this growth we see the contrast of the piece's ending to how it began. The conversation becomes about refinement and recognizing togetherness in a rare culture of people. When we bond in our uniqueness as peculiar individuals of dance, culture or what have you, we can see much of our process in fact overlap in ways that support and grow one another with power.

Rain is a heart wrenching solo choreographed by Bebe Miller. In this piece, the storytelling is immaculate. From the minimal stage lighting, decor and powerful red, full-body costuming, the choreographic and emotional aspects only magnify it. The storytelling begins with a strong relationship to the floor, yet eventually grows to whole body excursions that show a continual fight ensuing. As an audience we only know of the heaviness of the dancer's heart as she moves, burdened from the weight of her life's pain, yet still presenting with abundance and spirit. The movements are inquisitive and at times immersed in musicality. The stage is only decorated with a single patch of grass in the center and we watch as she uses it to portray her journey as she mostly dances around it, not touching. With momentum building strongly and then lowering again, her undulating body excursions, hops and runs show of her fight, masked in elegance and beauty. She takes her time in moments of slowness, pausing, melting. Even in her elegance, the entire time it is as if she is bleeding. Persevering with tenacity but also humanly, at times, losing.

Catherine Kirk, bears it all as she performs with grace, giving herself to the audience and to the work. She finally makes it to the grass, beaming in the light. With her fight coming to an end, the lights softly drown away as the stage, music and her movements slowly get quieter and quieter to a final silencing still.

In a moment of feeling enveloped in the emotions, rigor, and captivation of all of the pieces up until this point, comes what will be my favorite part of the night. If We Were A Love Song is a six-part performance that basks in the bravery and brilliance of Nina Simone’s legendary voice. Black is the Color of my True Love’s Hair, is part one of this section. A group piece that remains in only one corner of the stage. Huddled in a stark and impressionable collective, the sentiment of this section is seen right away. A premature impression is one of somberness, yet there is a greater feeling that exudes, found in the deep focus and poetic seriousness of the artists. Slow extensions, quiet to fast movements, A.I.M. dancers make subtlety a statement and are masters of control. The use of hands are intentional, speaking as if voices themselves and the dancers move in slow ripples finding space not seen. We are reminded yet again in this piece of how A.I.M. dancers are scientists in finding time, and their impact and voices are all the more deep in doing so. 

If We Were A Love Song allows the audience to recognize and admire the uniqueness and power of individual A.I.M. dancers, their personalities, their strengths, their ability to embody the work they present. Some dancers are masters of musicality, some masters of limberness, some are creative and imaginative partners of the floor. The stage is bare and black just like their clothing, with one main light illuminating the movers and capturing their grace. The aesthetic mood matches the bareness and simplicity of Nina’s tone, as the movers bodies mold with her voice. There were so many breathtaking moments, coupled too beautifully with movers obsessed with their craft. An entire company of exceptional artists. And with dancers such as Jae Neal who can embody an entirety of any situation. Or Martell Ruffin who’s riveting passion can be seen in the absolute dark. Or Tamisha A. Guy whose calming, careful and powerful voice you can hear with her lips sealed and warmth you can feel eons away. 

The feeling presented in this segment show the coldness understood, that can become from one’s experience, and how even in this coldness we still glow. After living a black experience, this part of the show was a moment to get attached to. In the most gorgeous way, If We Were a Love Song reminded me of misguided gold, of confused pride, silenced wisdom, admiration long too overdue. And the beauty in all of the pain.

BAM reunites with Tanztheater Wuppertal for Água

And the storytelling is immediate. Green tree leaves, island breezes. We are visually transported to another location, both familiar and unfamiliar. These stark images project gently on the stage and fill its entire backdrop. With music that is soft and airy, yet exciting, and a portrait painted clearly before us on the stage, the audience is instantly in another place.

The Brooklyn Academy of Music’s (BAM) Howard Gilman Opera House was a packed venue closing night. As we are once again brought the presentation of a celebrated body of work by the late Pina Bausch of the Tanztheater Wuppertal. Água, a 2 hour and 50 minute production filled with unique and ubiquitous storytelling through the mold of several main tropes such as love, inadequacy, beauty, destruction, fire and even agua. A culminating, theatrical presentation of cultural observation. At moments, it was a point of entry into an observer's eye upon the Brazilian and Afro-Brazilian presence. Various musical drum arrangements, colorful floral and layered dresses and joyous scenes of character. But indeed it was more than that. The performance was not a production, but a larger picture. It was an excerpt from a life-long film, windows of time, inserts into several lives, and a collective representation. More than a production, it was a spectacle of humanism. 

The show's sequence was just as fluid as the dancing, with one segment trickling into the next, dancers and dance pieces bleeding, overlapping and unfolding into one another. Throughout the show's entirety, solos, duets and larger group pieces intermixed discreetly through mundane pedestrian transitions. We were made to feel a part of the experience, not only observers of an exaggerated spectacle, but permanent residents of inquiry. If the segments weren't transitioned by colloquial pedestrian movements, they were interrupted by comedic, theatrical interludes. However, the true underlying sentiment of the performance was irony. With each motif being introduced or enveloped in contradiction, adding many layers to what was before us.

Beauty was one point of focus and was brought to the stage in diverse iterations. Its integration was at times whimsical, such as during a scene where a woman repeatedly runs across the stage as new men enter, just to throw herself to the ground and flip her dress over her face. Or at times its integration was dramatic, such as a man professing every single detail of obsession he has for his love, from her hair, to her voice, to her hands, just for the woman to fight against it in immense absurdity. Deeper than these moments of satire and wit, we can see being presented our unhealthy obsession with beauty, or possibly these scenes may just be its comical acknowledgement. Whichever the truth, as an audience member we were able to regard in amusement and laugh at its exaggeration and creative presentation, all while feeling a guilty connection to its truth.

In my interpretation, I saw the show bleeding these themes of love and beauty into a wider picture, which is a human feeling we all experience; inadequacy. The show would interlude with several comedic monologues, giving us unique breaks from dancing along the show. Several of which showed Julie Shanahan’s seasoned and exquisite performance style. In a monologue where she explored this idea of inadequacy, we witness her erupt into an undulating tirade about what she wished she could do and be, but how it was not possible. Enveloped in satire, every action she professes desire to do but claims cannot achieve, she actively is doing on the stage. An intense tirade that was fun, spontaneous, and slightly disheartening all at the same time. She brought us with her on this ride of questioning ability, completion, and value. 

This captivating monologue leads me into another point of focus that seemed to remerge both subtly and bluntly throughout the show. It was one surrounding a form of mental torment, or perhaps rather, a personified outward caricature of the internal mind. This theme spanned the entirety of the show in a unique form of commentary, as the show was both constantly repetitious and circular. Whether it was the repetitions of singular movements, repeating partner lifts, the performance of circular physical gestures or reenactments of entire segments of the show, we were continuously found in a feeling of going round-about, or ending up in the same place as where we started. There was always a pattern presented that resembled the repetition of the same actions continuously and expecting a different result. Which, in an eloquent way, seemed to tell a story of an overall battle of the mind.

A theme that was clear to see, even through all of the beautiful pain expressed through movement and words throughout the night, was joy. Pina Bausch expressed joy in her choreography through presenting authentic experiences. The ending scenes with the performers basking in the beauty and purity of water portrayed it all. Pina Bausch was unconventional in many ways. Not only through her infusion of theater within dance performance but equally through her works approach. In Água, her movements seemed to be led by a fixated obsession. That obsession could be an animalistic characteristic, a part of the body, or even the floor. Água was unorthodox in its integration of the audience within the experience, with both verbal and at times physical interactions. Água was daring in its introductions of varying perspectives of sexuality and presentations of the body.
Filled with so many images, monologues, satire, comedy and extraordinary movement, many of us were just lost in the story, captivated in observation. Perhaps Água did not aim to teach, comment on, or change us. Perhaps it was presented just to allow us to observe. Observe a human experience we are all too busy living to really see.

Hubbard Street Dance Chicago at the joyce

Slow figures wander on stage against nothing but a glooming red backdrop. They stop occasionally in a lounged position with arms softly outstretched overhead. Halted in motion for brief moments, they were succumbing, stuck in gravity. This calm opening scene introduced a dance piece that held nearly no pauses in motion for its 30-minute entirety. As The Wind Blows is the first piece set to Hubbard Street Dance Chicago’s full-length Joyce Theater performance, an impressionable first section that set a powerful bar for the show to be presented on that Saturday matinee. In this work choreographed by Amy Hall Garner, we are taken on a colorful ride just as the title implies. 

Suddenly, the stage becomes slowly lit as more dancers enter and we are bulldozed with variations of strong whirlwind arms and deep focus. A light figure enters the stage and brightens us with her airiness. It is a graceful and piercing Alexandria Best who soared with every lift and soothed with every stare, convincing us her moments were too pinnacle to forget. As the piece progresses, the music begins to build and so does the mood. If the piece began in deep focus, troubled by trajectory, then at this point the figures have now completely succumbed, joyfully being taken on a route full of spontaneity and decided by the force that is pulling them. The dancers hover across the stage, being whisked away in countless weightless lifts. The pattern of movement almost seemed to imply a journey of travel that may have begun hesitant, but is now growing with more acceptance of the unknown future. The arms were intriguing puzzles, the partnerwork intellectual, and the movements bound with wit. From snaps as a musical transition to whiskful touch and goes. This opening section had it all, as it told a dear story through its sequences. Multiple trios, full company combos and a heart melting solo, each portrayed the rightful tumult the wind does carry. How it can be daunting, crippling but in the end, also joyous and optimistic.

Succeeding the intermission, one could not prepare the audience for what we would see next. With the profound work of lighting designer Dan Scully, the drama from the lights only exponentiated the drama brought to the stage. Show Pony is a solo piece choreographed by Kyle Abraham and performed by Cyrie Topete. Throughout the performance, Cryrie was in complete control; control of her body, control of the room and control of our emotions. An agile master, she executed technique in varying intersecting styles with swiftness. The piece, having a classical foundation was equally filled with street style acrobatics and movements integrated spontaneously all while keeping a continuous flow. As she moved she developed more and more ligaments in her body, and her metallic bodysuit articulated every muscle she engaged and every ripple she controlled. Kyle Abraham’s work is a stream of consciousness, one movement eternally linked to the next like a run-on phrase that we do not wish to hush. For this performance, the statement of that phrase was power, and with Cyrie Topete’s extreme villainous focus, that point was made clear. She was the most powerful body in the room. 

Ne Me Quitte Pas is a duet brought to us by choreographer Spenser Theberge. Set to the emotive and alluring voice of Nina Simone, this work that seemed to play on co-dependency was a humorous contradiction. Staged almost as a play, a few moments into the piece, the audience learns it is actually the story of two dancers rehearsing. The contradiction comes in when the playful and light rehearsal atmosphere is interrupted by the entrance into a melancholy performance holding a serious tone. The movements spoke to a sense of codependency and challenged this notion through partner initiated movements and continuous contact. The two dancers pushed the limits of aerodynamics with extenuating lines and teetering turns and balances. In their “rehearsal” they were connected. However, they also challenged this connectivity with a contradicting introspective dance approach that showed necessary in order to attack the full range of their movements and successfully workshop the rehearsal process. With every teeter away, they escaped back into connectivity, as if they needed each other to move. In the end, breaking the concentrated focus of the audience into their movement story with another call to the stage technician, they nonchalantly yell “Thanks Kasey” and exit the stage.

The show overflowed with a diverse rigor of energies, moods and flows. A robustly curated itinerary that satiated our palates. B/OLERO was the fourth act, a duet that brought a different air through simplistic and dynamic syncopated movements set to a blend of eclectic, rhythmic, hypnotizing and relaxed electronic music. Choreographed by Ohad Naharin and danced that afternoon by Michelle Dooley and Alexandria Best, the two were both in synchrony, and equally lost in their own worlds. With neon lighting, the two wore flattering and simple short black, sleeveless dresses. The piece stretched the bounds of simplicity with contrasting dynamics. The duet would change from full body heavily thrown movements to playful, coordinated repetitions. Dancing both together and apart, their bodies were completely transparent having no recognition of the other or possibly two halves to one whole entity. Did they see each other or was their presence merely felt? 

In a culminating, full cast finale, BUSK openings up a pensive conversation with its words unsaid. All of the character presented by each dancer throughout the entire night is reimagined in this dramatic, exciting and inquisitive piece. The cast wore all black, oversized and baggy costumes from head to toe, but illuminated brightly with colorful mime-like facial and body expressions that satirically described their pains and struggles. They were brave and boisterous caricatures of humans, telling the story of paranoia, livelihood, neglect and fear. Telling the stories of our lives. BUSK equally fuses many styles showing the intricacy, versatility and athleticism of the Hubbard Street dancers. With amazing spectacles and full body movements, BUSK was lively like an action packed film, melding together an array of musical arrangements to match the piece's expressiveness. From dramatizing choral voices to emotive guitar strums, and somber piano nodes, each arrangement matching the moods each section brought. Through its comical and whimsical sequences, the piece also delivered musicality, elongated technical lines set to violin strums and athletic stamina just the same. With the loud exaggeration of the movements, the dancers were precisely us. Reflections of the insanity within that can be at times crippling, at times comical, and at times joyous in our human experience.

What's love got to do with it? Walking into February with waheedworks

The lights carried the story just as equally as the dancers on the stage. Illuminating driven-struck movers in the space, the shadows illuminated also, as they told the more solemn side that was edging to be presented. Bodies as Site of Faith and Protest is a magnetizing work by Artistic Director of waheedworks, Tommie-Waheed Evans that attempts to embody the enduring fight of the United States Civil Rights Movement. A period of time so ingrained in our existence; stories, tales and representations at times feel overwhelming to re-submerge, but always fulfilling when a beautiful depiction is brought before us through mediums of art and artful narration that challenge our eyes and transport our consciousness. Dressed in all black atop the dark stage at the Joyce Theatre in lower Manhattan, the company came out stomping, singing and swaying rhythmically to their own sounds. As their vigorous voices absorbed the floorboards, they clapped along in unison. This set the tone of solidarity in the most violent somberness that the audience was preparing to witness for the following 60 minutes. 

On a cold night, star Roderick Phifer stepped forward in rigor and strength warming our chests with his lucid presence. Arms rounded to a T, he reminded us of black beauty. Black beauty’s strength, black beauty’s gold, the black beauty that could have been, as we mourn exponentially, ones lost to the senselessness of our eternal plight. Roderick Phifer is a whirlwind of a force, spiraling in perfect turns, endless extensions and melting through the floor. The piece tells the story of Jimmie Jackson and his eventual murder. With the eluding harmonious and mournful sounds of the Latvian Radio Choir, this section of work effortlessly intertwines solos, duets and full company combinations. The section ends with the body of Jimmie Jackson being carried away atop the same bountifulness of the group's opening presence. 

In the next section Song Aziza Tucker stuns us with her lines and her passion. The voices of Martha Bass and the Harold Smith Choir only intensify her moment. It was not hard to see what was felt in her soul as she fought on stage to inspire us through her solo, all while her kin lay motionless around her on the stage. These are moments that Tommie Waheed pierces the audience with through his perspective of storytelling the timeless fight of this era. Throughout this work, Tommie-Waheed Evans continually shows the absolute remarkable and divine beauty in bravery, in a world where love is truly hard to see. The dancers, even with their own distinctness, shared many things in common. A breathtaking power, immaculate technique, liquified roundedness in their arms, everlasting turns that beamed to the sky and a deafening melt with every drop to the floor absorbed by their meticulous level transitions. One dancer who, above all these shared qualities, remained defiant in this tale was Zoe Miller, as she stood out amongst the rest. Simultaneously adding her own uniqueness to the movements, it appeared there was nothing she could not do. With pristine technique, she graced the stage and it was hard for us to blink, let alone take our eyes away.

The third section brought us magical duets coupled with the magical voice of Aretha Franklin telling us to come together. Shortly after, we get our first glimpse of color in costume as the stage is lit with notes of red. Up until this point, the costuming has been uniquely black, which carried just over half of the show's full run-time. The power of seeing color on the stage with the power of their stomps as they marched with togetherness transported our feet to the historic time, each member bringing the strength of their steps. From moments of togetherness, the performers would trail off individually or in duets and tell the story of their contribution to the shared struggle. At times fast and rigorous, the choreography showed a generous fight unraveling. We saw the seriousness and sincerity in their eyes as they moved, then went right back to marching along with their brothers and sisters. This intentional aesthetic narration showed that this movement was not made up of collective void bodies but that it was made up of the pain, hope and faith of each individual, one by one. Tommie-Waheed Evans choreographed a movie that at times evoked much emotion as we visually witnessed the dancers fight against resistance and get back up every time, yet again reminding us of the strength we hold as people. It seems Bodies as Site of Faith and Protest was gifted to us for Dr. Martin Luther King's birthday, as the show came in perfect timing for his annual celebration or rather, it was gifted as a thoughtful welcoming into Black History month.

In a musically slow-building and colorful final section. Tommie-Waheed Evans ends with augmenting instrumentation illustrating masterfully integrated duets, sentiments rising and solidarity at its epitome. With thoughtful floorplans and beautiful transitions the show carried along a constant fight and reminded us to persevere. We shall overcome is the ringing theme of this work uncovered by the ranging voices of the company themselves as well as the work Tommie-Waheed Evans brought to the stage.

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater Christmas Eve Performance at the NY City Center

She entered like a Harlem Renaissance fantasy...

Wearing a pure white coat and headscarf emitting not much of a damsel in distress, but an elegant woman king realizing her emotions in the streets while concurrently, not showing a hint of such vulnerability. Her pure white, covered a smoldering black 1920’s ensemble of which she revealed shortly after the opening of the piece. This was the first figure our eyes observed, on the evening of Christmas Eve during what would be Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater’s last performance of 2022. She emerged in a debuting piece entitled In a Sentimental Mood, choreographed by Jamar Roberts. As I sat to watch the deflowering of brisk and stunning movement to the music of Duke Ellington and Rafiq Bhatia, I was reminded of the last time I saw the Ailey company. It was in December of 2017, a birthday gift to myself. That was my first time experiencing the renowned company live. The show was truly all this California girl could have imagined it to be and more. It even led to cultivating an already present desire to experience Portugal, after witnessing The Winter in Lisbon as one of the pieces they performed that night; a vibrant, colorful and lively story set to jazz great Dizzy Gillespie. This specific traveling desire was realized just two weeks prior to the Christmas Eve performance at the New York City Center that I am beginning to detail now.

Our opening figure set the tone of control and allure in a slow-burning, magnetizing and convoluted duet danced by Ailey’s captivating Ghrai Devore-Stokes and Chalvar Monteiro. Throughout what seemed to be the unraveling of a complicated relationship, the two were flawless; seamlessly together, yet seemingly on their own. Through spontaneous coordination or blindly roaming, they always found each other. One could see the conflict present. As Ghrai danced with strength, grace, power and dominance, her presence was clear. However, Chalvar seemed to be enduring the most torment within this storyline which was portrayed through his rugged and at times staccato movements. Ghrai, a golden goddess; was she there for him along the way as they often found each other? Or was she the one tormenting him? Powerful, yet sentimental, we felt the insane turbulence of love. It was 25 minutes of sheer elegance, romantic triumphs and pain. This piece reminded me of the raw reality of our own relationships, and their pure, yet ominous tumult. In the end, he offered her a rose. She re-robed with her clean white coat, embodying the same beauty of the opening figure we saw, and walked away.

We received a break from the ever-too realistic emotional whirlwind of coexisting and was given the next segment. DUET is a 1964 piece by the late Paul Taylor. Vibrant and lively, dancers Belén Indhira Pereyra and Patrick Coker brought a clearer vision of attachment and connection. Joyous and uplifting, the two portrayed their physical fusion into one, during moments along the seven minute ride. Their vibrant and colorful, skin-tight, one-piece attires added to the buoyancy they brought to the stage. They seemed to tell the story of bond, through clear and technical lines, returning to the audience a sense of optimism in connection.

Equally presenting vibrant pastel colors in costume, we are hit with the debut of Kyle Abraham’s Are You in Your Feelings? immediately following intermission. I believe I am beginning to recognize his style. Reminiscent, conversational, intergenerational. With this part of the show, there is so much to unpack of this 32 minute dense and wild conglomerate of pieces. Kyle Abraham chose to do a modern take with mostly modern music, on his ever-present challenge against romantic partner dynamic that he incorporates so well, while simultaneously integrating humor and charm.

Kyle Abraham is reminiscent through his pensive story-tellling. Featuring the songs of Drake, Jazmine Sullivan, Kendrick Lamar and Jhené Aiko amongst others, the presentation gracefully illuminated the uniquely potent embodiment of delicate, fluid and powerful port de bras only Ailey dancers can execute with the immensity of breathtaking effortlessness as they do.

He seems, at one point, to imply a brief modern presence of Revelations from a perspective of love, through mimicking the iconic opening diamond formation on the Alvin Ailey stage, guarding this formation throughout nearly the entirety of one whole section.

Kyle abraham is conversational…

Through the unique side-interactions he enacts fluidly throughout all sections. At the pinnacle of the diamond formation was a fiery Ashley Kaylynn Green, awe-inflicting us with her impressionable presence, infinite turns and grandiose stature at around 5 feet tall. You know when a mover is getting it when their plié is knee deep. The deeper they continue to grow, shows the richness of their embodiment. And when you see their pelvis damn near touch the floor with it, you just know they are taken, gone into the breath of the movement in the movie they are creating. Gone into an alternate reality they are inviting you into only a glimpse of. Kyle Abraham is intergenerational through his precise music choice and evocative movement.

The movers on that stage grew deeper into their plié, and we in the audience levitated closer to their narration, becoming more and more intrigued and ever-more attached to their captivating stories.

We are graced with one last intermission to prepare ourselves for the classic and historic final piece, Revelations. I will not attempt to transcribe the gravity of such a historic presence that is the work Revelations by the late, heroic Alvin Ailey as I cannot find the words at this moment to do it justice. I can only tell you my impressions seeing it again for the second time. I was, not surprisingly, reminded of the contradictory comfort and pain felt through witnessing perseverance in movement set to eminent negro spirituals with the pleasant backdrop of Sunday church.

The opening diamond shape and captivating black choral voices, relentlessly brings in not only the eyes, but the soul. For the next 35 minutes we are taken on the riveting and beauteous ride of humility, humanity, grace and strength of African-American ancestors. Staccato elegance matches soulful expression executed by mindful technicians. Revelations, a time capsule into the strength of blackness that peacefully terrorized the 60s and before, which defined both the negro fight and experience. Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater never disappoints with their athleticism and awe-inducing, breathless control. Revelations will always be the best present and beautiful culmination to a Christmas Eve night. I cannot say anything more except that one must just experience this piece at least once in their life. Be taken on a journey through history and perseverance, resilience and black joy. It is uniquely essential, uniquely Ailey.

-Busola "Be" George
Editor and Chief,
SoL-I Magazine