Musical America Blogs

We are living in the age of the male choreographer, again. Seventeenth and 18th century ballet masters were traditionally male and the acknowledged great names in ballet—Petipa, Fokine, Massine, Balanchine, Ashton, Tudor, MacMillan, Cranko, and now Ratmansky—are all men. Modern dance, on the hand, was until recently the domain of the female choreographer. (Think Isadora Duncan and Martha Graham.) Yet modern dance, which is now called contemporary dance, no longer boasts as many strong female choreographers as it did in its heyday (1910 to 1960). What happened to the predominance of powerful, highly visible female choreographers?

I’ve been living in a small town in north central Spain since June. For someone who writes dance criticism and loves taking dance classes, this sounds like a near death situation. But I’ve embraced provincial life, at least European provincial life. Salamanca may be two hours from Madrid and it does not have a professional dance company, but it has Espacio de Danza, a studio just outside the city center—which is the site of the third oldest university in Europe (founded 1218).

Developing a proficiency in a dance form has its perks, especially if you travel. Then a dance studio, in any foreign city or town, can become your temporary home. Inside the studio’s four walls, you’re no longer a tourist. It doesn’t matter if you understand the language spoken by the teacher. Dance is overwhelmingly taught by copying what is demonstrated. A good set of eyes and a willing smile are crucial.

Small is beautiful. That has been Miro Magliore’s approach to dance making since he created the New Chamber Ballet in 2004. On September 6 and 7, at New York City Center’s Studio Five, Magliore presented five short ballets. His selection of a salon-size cast—five female dancers and two musicians—and his decision to annually present his two-night seasons in a bare bones studio are not just practical responses to the dire state of U.S. arts funding. They express his aesthetic vision. Magliore’s ballets cleave to modesty.

To many, Bob Fosse’s style, with its pelvic thrust, razzle-dazzle hands, and slumped over set of shoulders, is immediately recognizable. Fosse championed the vaudevillian delinquent, the burlesque maven, the professional huckster. He bucked the post World War II musical theater tradition of happy boys and girls and their dancing feet. Yet despite Fosse’s unquestionable influence on musical theater dance, his most important contribution may be his film work.

“Shucks!” Clark grunted. “Do you good to step out. You don’t have to dance—just get out there on the floor and shake.”—Tales of the Jazz Age (1922)

Three years after F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote this dialogue, he immortalized America’s obsession with free spirit-ness in his novela the The Great Gatsby. Though Fitzgerald made no specific mention of the ultimate free-spirited dance–The Charleston–it was this improvisational-infused trot that became synonymous with the “Roaring Twenties.”

The Joyce Theatre program Working Women (Jan 30-Feb 3) offered an eclectic sampler of works by eight female choreographers. Like a four-course meal, the evening tendered various flavors of dance. The winning course turned out to be Camille A. Brown’s self-choreographed solo The Real Cool. Performed after intermission, this piece brilliantly combined the bitter, the sour, and the sweet.

But one work far exceeded the others, and that was Camille A. Brown’s “The Real Cool.” The solo is part of a full-length dance “Mr. TOL E. RAncE,” which will premiere April 2-6 at The Kitchen.
But one work far exceeded the others, and that was Camille A. Brown’s “The Real Cool.” The solo is part of a full-length dance “Mr. TOL E. RAncE,” which will premiere April 2-6 at The Kitchen. Brown, a well-known African-American choreographer, has been lauded for her character-driven, highly physical dance works that combine vernacular and concert dance traditions. Judging from “The Real Cool” excerpt, Brown’s “Mr. TOL E. RAncE” will deftly explore the experiences of African-American performers today, and yesterday.

Peck, a twenty-five year old City Ballet corps member, is not a complete novice in the art of choreography. La Jolla is his fourth work for City Ballet, following his most recent critical success, Year of the Rabbit. But La Jolla, set to Bohuslav Martinu’s Sinfonietta la Jolla, didn’t win me over. Peck’s choreography rarely conjures any sense of La Jolla as an actual place. The ballet seems to be in the service of displaying the dancers’ high level of technical ability, and Peck’s choreographic proficiency. He skillfully arranges his 18 dancers in geometric formations and patterns through an array of steps that feature the classical ballet lexicon. It’s a charming, impressive display. However the confounding part about La Jolla is what it actually evokes: the urgent, frenetic pace of New York.

Although it’s been 22 years since Martha Graham’s passing, the Buglisi Dance Theater continues to perpetuate her legacy. The company, seen February 9 at The Joyce Theater, was founded by a handful of former influential members of the Graham Company. Jacqulyn Buglisi and Donlin Foreman, its founding choreographers, seek to reflect Graham’s dramatic aesthetic in which emotions, characters, and movements are boldly etched.