DANCE REVIEW: Göteborg Ballet at Jacob's Pillow
Dance
JACOB’S PILLOW
THE GÖTEBORG BALLET
Ted Shawn Theatre
August 18-22, 2010
THE GÖTEBORG BALLET
Ted Shawn Theatre
August 18-22, 2010
Review by Seth Rogovoy
(BECKET, Mass., August 18, 2010) - First of all, don’t believe the disclaimers, including one by Jacob’s Pillow executive director Ella Baff right before the program commences, that there’s really not much Boléro to be heard in 3xBoléro, an evening of dances using or inspired by Ravel’s Top 40 classical warhorse in the program by Sweden’s Göteborg Ballet, being performed on the Ted Shawn stage through Sunday, August 22.
The fact is there is plenty of Boléro —more than anyone can fairly be expected to tolerate under any circumstances other than those here, as the joy and pleasure that the three eclectic dances impart more than make up for the two hours of overdosing on that dreadful music. Fear not that the melody—such as it is—will be stuck in your head for days. It’s the next morning, and I can’t even recall it. It helps to immediately play other music as soon as you leave Jacob’s Pillow and get in your car, and to continue doing so the morning after.
(More disturbing is this persistent image I have of Bo Derek emerging from the ocean in a beige one-piece swimsuit, along with a curious impulse to rent the movie 10 from Netflix, but that’s a whole other story.)
The insistent rhythmic pulse of Ravel’s Boléro and the composition’s overarching strategy of long, drawn-out crescendo and decrescendo—as well as the aura of kitsch surrounding the silly piece of music—are treated playfully and employed in a variety of manners, both musically (in different versions of the piece, some less loyal to the original than others) and choreographically—to make for a wonderful evening of contemporary ballet, as well as a stunning showcase for this superb company, making its American debut with this program at Jacob’s Pillow.
Göteborg artistic director Johannes Öhman found three recent pieces by three different choreographers using or relating to Boléro in some way, shape, or form, and put them together for an evening that explores the score as well as the mythology surrounding it, at the same time it also demonstrates how a piece of music can inspire totally different artistic approaches.
This could be a recipe for disaster in lesser hands, given the weakness of the source material. What unifies the effort and turns this into an evening of transcendent contemporary ballet – really a showcase for the state-of-the-art of the genre and offering a strong demonstration of just what it can be (fun included) – is the company of dancers, artists, and technicians that Öhman has put together. Although based in Sweden, Öhman’s group is a multicultural ensemble of all sizes, shapes, and colors (with some bias toward the Nordic, for sure, including some very tall women).
Equally worth applauding, however, are the production values invested in this program. Indeed, just a look at the credits offers a hint of how much work has gone into the production, which boasts a Touring Project Manager, a Technical Touring Manager, a Technical Stage Manager, as well as electricians, lighting and sound engineers, dressers, and even a physiotherapist, presumably to help the poor dancers recover from some of the rigorous moves, including ones that require them to fall from heights. Ouch.
It’s quite a production, with sets – including a long fence, platforms, and a monolith – that move and morph before your eyes; musical cues that are as precise as a ballerina’s arch; lighting angles that are as essential as any properly executed arabesque; and costumes that say nearly as much as the dancers’ expressive faces. And yes, this is the sort of contemporary take on ballet that allows for and encourages individuality of expression, and dancegoers will grow familiar with the dancers as individuals as well as the company as a whole.
The first number, Walking Mad, created by Johan Inger in 2001, employed that folding, morphing wall to great, sometimes comic, sometimes tragic, effect. A lone dancer enters the theater from the stage left door to the house, takes the stage, and goes through a series of mishaps with the wall and one of its hidden doors. He is a Chaplinesque figure, and his plight sets the tone for the dance as a whole, as well as for much if not all of the evening to come.
A series of pas de deux and other group dances proceed to play out in front of, on top of, and inside the foldable, collapsible wall, including one in which a handful of men wearing pointy red birthday hats chase a girl around the wall before transforming into dancers in a Michael Jackson video, swiveling their hips suggestively in unison, moving backwards in lockstep like something out of Thriller, before collapsing on the floor on their sides.
A bunch of women join them and revitalize them, and it all turns into a party, a festive affair that recalls Mark Morris in tone – when it isn’t suggesting the Marx Brothers, that is. The dance is for the most part very rooted in everyday life; ordinary situations, movements, and gestures, are made extraordinary through the sheer artfulness and grace of the dancers and the choreography, which plays free with classical tradition but never breaks totally from those constraints.
The second number, OreloB (that’s Boléro spelled backwards in case you are not paying close attention at this point), was created by Kenneth Kvarnström in 2008 and employs a minimalist industrial-rock score by Jukka Rintamäki that adheres rhythmically at least to Ravel. In stark contrast to the fun, lighthearted revelry of Walking Mad, this number is dark, almost gothic or cyperpunk – cold and electronic in feel, look, and sound. There are hints of violence and brutality, and the dance itself by the end is brutal, the dancers having become mere avatars for the pile-driving rhythms. Not really fun, but without darkness there is no light, one supposes.
And the evening ends with wonderfully bright light provided by Episode 17, created by Alexander Ekman in 2008 and, yes, for the most part, danced to several different versions of ... Boléro. But no matter – this huge piece employs nineteen dancers as well as spoken-word narrative, silly black wigs, and a giddy surprise ending about which I’ll say nothing other than stay until the end or you’ll miss the best part.
Among the set pieces are a hilarious number danced to a campy disco version of Boléro in a style recalling that of Monica Bill Barnes. The piece deals with questions of identity, with the narrator letting us in on what the dancers are thinking (kind of like thought bubbles in a comic strip) while the dancers embody those thoughts through their posture, walk, and expressions.
The piece includes faux-serious instructions to musicians on how to perform Boléro – “Be seductive without forcing the dynamics” – which could well stand as the epitaph for this whole dynamically seductive evening of contemporary ballet at the Pillow.
Seth Rogovoy is Berkshire Living’s award-winning cultural critic and editor-in-chief. He is the author of Bob Dylan: Prophet Mystic Poet and The Essential Klezmer: A Music Lover’s Guide to Jewish Roots and Soul Music, and a cultural commentator on WAMC Northeast Public Radio.
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