<\/p>\n
The first generation of American concert choreographers distanced themselves from the dance club and fashion world. They wanted to elevate dance, not point out its relationship to entertainment and consumerism. Not Larry Keigwin, who came of age in the late 1980s. The New York-born choreographer\u2019s world premiere of Exit<\/em> at The Joyce Theater (March 8-13) takes the underground club world, with all its narcissism, nihilism and fashion-ism as its subject matter. Known for his embrace of popular culture (working with The Radio City Rockettes and more recently for New York Fashion Week), Keigwin\u2019s evening-length work for his seven-member pickup troupe is a significant departure. It\u2019s serious. And that is its greatest weakness. Take seriously preening and posing clubbers? Come on. Dancer Liz Riga was sporting retro-inspired makeup reminiscent of the rock band Kiss<\/em>.<\/p>\n Friend and fellow dance critic\u00a0Marina Harss commented that Exit<\/em>, seen on March 9, isn\u2019t dark enough. \u201cThey look like such good kids,\u201d she said. Keigwin probably hoped to create a self-destructive vision of club culture, choreographing his athletic performers to repeatedly fall to the floor and pulverize each other. But because these dancers always sauntered to and slithered against a black wall (designed by Dane Laffrey), a message of safety first (exhibitionism second) reigned. The desire to create danger, even with Burke Wilmore\u2019s Blade Runner<\/em> style lighting, didn\u2019t develop. So, Exit<\/em> bordered between the mundane and the simulacrum silly. When Aaron Carr appeared in a white mesh top, a black thong, and silver stilettos, lip synching Sammy Davis Jr.\u2019s rendition of the 1967 song I\u2019ve Got to be Me<\/em>, he looked less like a transvestite and more like a teenager strutting for his pals in the safety of his dorm room. Carr, a succinct and luscious mover, is just too clean cut looking to convincingly play the outsider.<\/p>\n The composer Jerome Begin\u2014who performed on a keyboard synthesizer and weaved layers of beats and sounds like a wizard at his cauldron\u2014was the most believable member of the crew. Playing below and stage right of the dancers, Begin did exactly what DJs are revered for: Keeping the club mood subtly changing and increasing in intensity. Also of note were the final moments of Exit<\/em>, when Keigwin\u2019s choreography echoed Begin\u2019s ricocheting sound riffs. At this moment, Carr\u2019s tossing spiraling limbs influenced the next dancer\u2019s movements, and then the next. Like a wave of energy, the dancers became united as they cascaded toward the wings to their final exit. It was a beautiful moment. Hopefully, Keigwin will have the opportunity to develop more transcendence in Exit<\/em> as it tours the country in the coming year. Because Keigwin isn\u2019t just a 1980s club kid. Like most interesting artists, he’s moving forward. <\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n <\/p>\n