To Bring a Drop of Beauty into Unassuming Spaces

Clara Ruf Maldonado and Lucien Postlewaite in an excerpt from Jean-Christophe Maillot's Roméo et Juliette. Photo by DAN LAO

We go to the theater to find beauty, to come in contact with a kind of transcendence, to escape. We go there knowing that we’re participating in a tradition that lets us experience something and emerge, hours later, changed, even in some slight, ineffable way. But occasionally, a drop of absolute beauty lands in an unassuming space and shifts the nature of those surroundings in an instant, inviting us to pause and to watch as the marvelous invades the mundane. Such was the case on a recent, blissful August afternoon as dance filled a corner of Seattle’s bustling Occidental Square beneath sun-dappled linden trees. 

In a theater, it is the dimming lights and tuning orchestra that pull us from our daily thoughts, hush our words, and let us sink into the sight that will shortly fall before our eyes. In downtown Seattle, with an audience not expected to sit still, sit quietly, or sit at all; with passerbys lingering for a moment, curious eyes here a moment, gone the next; with distractions coming in every form from all around, I still felt that miraculous breath in the moment before something begins. 

From the first notes of Alfonso Peduto’s tender score for Aftermath, choreographed by Price Suddath and presented by the newly-formed, inaugural group of Jumpkut Contemporary Ballet dancers, that familiar spell spun its web. Before a crowd in scattered metal folding chairs and plenty more standing about, Christian Poppe settled into a transfixing peace in the midst of this busy nook. One of the blessings of an outdoor performance is that the everyday and the extraordinary visibly coexist. Here, while the ordinary lumbered by, Poppe’s focused intention emerged as a sight from some other world. A world rooted firmly in significance and purpose.

Later, as Melisa Guilliams and Sarah-Gabrielle Ryan carved through the rolling, organic tranquility of Suddarth’s deeply moving choreography, the significance of it all grew tenfold. From a block or two away, a siren blared like a sharp-edged call back to reality. Loud, boisterous music echoed, conversations came drifting by, this siren whirled, and yet, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Dance is magic in that way. Suddarth has a tremendous ability to lean into musical depth, so much so that the interrupting siren only seemed to aid the cause. It declared the necessity of dance to persist, and art’s endless capacity to uplift despite trying circumstances.

Sarah-Gabrielle Ryan and Luther DeMyer in Price Suddarth's Aftermath. Photo by DAN LAO

Alfonso Peduto’s introspective melodies carried that mood further to let Sarah-Gabrielle Ryan and Luther DeMyer sink into a meditative quality. Consuming space in roundabout ways, their wave-like, steady momentum was a captivating sight. Car horns blared, other music intruded, voices echoed, and yet, they carved out a space of their own, stepping into a plane above reality while coexisting within it. There, side by side against a background of normalcy, as they contended with the weight of the world, their introspective strength felt nearly sacred in its indulgence of meaning. I couldn't help but think how boring it would be to exist in a world without artful expression, and perhaps that has never been more clear than it was as the world passed by, oblivious. Surely those with a pause in their step left with the lingering mood of this thoughtful, resonant offering. How could you not?

As with Dawn Patrol, Suddarth’s most recent work for Pacific Northwest Ballet, Aftermath resounds with significance. The simplicity of profound gestures and the pure humanity that floods each interaction between two souls are the gifts of Suddarth’s work. There is no empty step, no vacant beauty. This alone, this endless movement steeped in meaning, shows Jumpkut as a company whose artistic vision will bring a decisive voice to Seattle’s art scene. And perhaps, some newfound perspective and doorways of entry into this art form’s vast beauty as well.

Jean-Christophe Maillot’s balcony pas de deux from Roméo et Juliette is always an excellent excerpt choice that evokes the entire story in its brief wonder. Three years ago, Lucien Postlewaite and Elizabeth Murphy took to the newly completed amphitheater in Volunteer Park to sweep us away in proper costumes and with minimal tweaks to account for the location. Here, in the gold hue of Occidental Square’s late afternoon light, Postlewaite and Clara Ruf Maldonado found their own magic.  

Amidst the city noise, a hush descended as they wove their way between bystanders, existing in our space yet undoubtedly in a world of their own, as though a veil had been drawn between the ordinary and the transcendent. Beginning with silence and birdsong, they slowly found their way to each other, letting snippets of Maillot’s choreography emerge from this casual, site-specific encounter. Unlike a more structured excerpt from Roméo et Juliette, a level of intuitiveness wove its way through these encounters, as though the choreography had flooded their bones to the extent that any variation of Maillot’s intention could be born organically through them. 

Just months after an unforgettable run of Roméo et Juliette at Pacific Northwest Ballet, Postlewaite and Maldonado danced with all the heart as if for thousands of eyes upon McCaw Hall’s grand stage. Just from the look in Postlewaite’s eyes as he found his way towards his Juliet, it was clear that he was there: firmly grounded in the role that he’s brought to life so many countless times. What a gift, to see how simply a ballet can be sparked, how easily one can slip into a story and forget the rest. 

From the first soft notes of Prokofiev’s balcony pas de deux, a spell descended upon Occidental Park and brought the essence of Roméo et Juliette into city life. Even in such a casual setting, even with sneakers and modified choreography, the swirl of emotions left us as it always does: enraptured. The last breaths of the balcony pas de deux have a tendency to draw the air from the theater, and here too, awe swelled at the sight of two parting hands.  As Postlewaite and Maldonado slowly pulled away until their soulful hands lost contact, and Prokofiev’s last soaring note lingered, they left us breathless in their wake.

Letting dance blossom where it so rarely does, and letting unspoiled eyes take in this wonder for the first time is the gift of outdoor performances. The gasp that broke forth midway through the pas de deux made that clear. To let dance flee from its pristine theaters for a moment, and land here, in unperfect conditions, is a priceless offering to all those in its presence. To hear Prokofiev’s score fill Occidental Square for (surely) the first time, and watch as a beloved duet finds its place beneath the linden trees…here, for one beautiful moment, art was truly for everyone. 

Clara Ruf Maldonado and Lucien Postlewaite in an excerpt from Jean-Christophe Maillot's Roméo et Juliette. Photo by DAN LAO