In 1958, sixty years ago, the United States military had only been integrated for 12 years and the nation was beginning to convulse under the demands of a burgeoning civil rights movement. In 1958, it would be another seven years for the voting rights act to become law. It’s also when a little black boy from Texas who grew up to be a dancer and choreographer in New York established his own dance company and introduced the world to modern dance exceptionalism achieved through the prism of the African American experience.
Now 30 years after its founder’s death and on the company’s 60th anniversary, the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater tours the globe eight months out of the year and is toasted as the “best of Americana”. And for the 50th time, the company made its annual descent on the Auditorium Theater March 6th for a five-day celebration of who they are and what they do.
Always interested in exploring the boundaries of dance to see where creative inspiration might lead, the dance company thrives on artistic infusion and is constantly performing works conceived by a wide range of choreographers. Several were featured in their recent Chicago stay in addition to two dances created by Mr. Ailey; the eternally popular Revelations and Timeless Ailey.
It was the first work on opening night, a commissioned piece intended as a tribute to Mr. Ailey that proved perplexing. Crafted by Rennie Harris, a Philadelphian who founded the acclaimed hip-hop dance theatre company, Rennie Harris PureMovement, Lazarus is a complicated two-part allegory. Dense with spoken word, heavy with the weight of despair, rife with questions about direction and race consciousness, the work’s front end seemed to be an extended examination of self and society from the vantage point of the suppressed. Then it shifts from powerlessness to promise. The change comes late in the sequence with little dance preceding it. When the transition arrives, its positive energy immediately received a warm reception and we began to see the hallmarks of Mr. Harris’s unique vision of dance.
Lathered in energetic cool, the dance on display in Lazarus is characterized as much by mood as it is movement. There’s a lot of “lean” in the dance, the kind of body language tilt that signifies confident self-possession in the black community. Loose WWII era costumes added an air of period suave that harkens back to when Ailey’s creative juices were roiling.
Lazarus’s second half might as well have rolled in on disco balls even though the dance’s aesthetics remained firmly rooted in the hip hop tradition as dancers rocked to a score laden with positive uplift. Club kids from the 80’s, 90’s and even today would feel right at home with the unbridled spirit of the music whose message to keep rising came packaged in sizzling party music with a heavy dose of theatricality. The sequence lit the audience’s fire instigating roars of approval. Bracing, jubilant and intense, it induced chills and a lingering question. Is this the new Ailey?
Saturday afternoon proved how foolish such a question is. Sixty years of success translates into adaptability and versatility. In addition to continuously searching for and developing talent, the company functions as a heat seeking missile looking for choreographic talent that celebrates its mission and its dance acuity.
Kairos, a work designed by Wayne McGregor five years ago but initially danced by the Ailey company just last year, lives in a universe leagues and leagues from kaleidoscopic Lazarus. Much more intimate and jagged, a different kind of drama rules here. There’s illusion with dancers appearing and disappearing as strobe lights flash. Against a wall of horizontal lines, dancers become musical notes dancing in improvised expression to music that’s in effect a remix of Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons.
Although a part of performance repertoire for a year now, Kairos didn’t seem completely absorbed by the dancers. At times there were brief lags that looked like uncertainty or hesitation. Rare anomalies in dance at this level. More traditionally balletic in form and mandating exact precision in order to perpetuate the dance’s continuity, Kairos appeared challenging but never lost its core beauty.
En suffered from no such distractions. Visually arresting from the beginning, the stage took on the appearance of a stark futuristic landscape with two spheres prominent in the background. One high of pure light, the other a large low back lit orb. They set an austere tone for a work that ultimately paid homage to the destiny of falling in love.
Modern dance can become so abstract that it’s difficult to read the meaning behind the dance. That’s why it’s always helpful when the choreographer sheds light on the inspiration for a particular work. With En, which means fate in Japanese, choreographer Jessica Lang explained she how she was both celebrating the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre and her husband, Kanji Segawa, a dancer in the company.
We get a sense of how time has the capacity to devour us before we ever discover love. And through dance as conceived in En, we see how satisfying love can be when it’s fulfilled. Surprisingly, the dance is as full of power as it is of intimacy; ultimately allowing us to appreciate it in the end for its strength. It also proved an ideal vehicle for portraying the company’s versatility.
But AAADT’s legacy lives in one dance, Revelations. When a woman leaned over and whispered that she had seen the solo in I Wanna Be Ready danced more skillfully, a shrug could be the only response. As the most viewed modern dance in the world, Revelations can’t be reduced to any of its individual parts.
As with dancers who perform the ballet continually, it’s those first chords that open the dance that transport both dancer and audience to Alvin Ailey’s interpretation of self and truth.
Determined to define his company as a proud reflection of himself and his heritage, it seems only natural a half century after he choreographed it that Revelations’ musical foundation would rest on spirituals. Still true today, the black church is the well you go to for strength, solace and restoration. It is the essence of community and often a core element of identity. The common struggles of humanity make an understanding of and appreciation for each of these needs universal.
Part of the genius of Revelations is how effectively it translate large ideals into the beauty of dance. As delightful as the music is in Revelations, the lyrics expose the heart of the dance; especially for the African American audience. Anticipatory rumblings grew into cheers of approval as the curtain rose on the ballet. The same “blood memories” that inspired Mr. Ailey to create Revelations begin to flood over the audience. Many Revelations veterans likely have favorite segments that resonate more deeply than others. Like the purity and elegance in Fix Me, Jesus, so exquisitely danced by Sarah Daley-Perdomo and Jermaine Terry Saturday afternoon. Or the regal procession across the river in Wade in the Water that reads so clearly as a march of triumph. The 30-minute baptism in self affirmation rushes by in what feels like seconds, whetting the appetite for another cathartic renewal next year.
Ailey 60
March 6 -10, 2019
The Auditorium Theatre
50 E. Ida B. Wells Dr.
Chicago, IL 60605