To the People it Must Return
- Louise Greer
- Mar 15
- 5 min read
Updated: Mar 26
“ I believe that the dance came from the people and that it should always be delivered back to the people.” — Alvin Ailey
Anybody who deems ballet an outdated bore has clearly never seen the Dance Theatre of Harlem soar. Seattle is a city that doesn’t often get to see top nationally-recognized ballet companies on tour (likely because Pacific Northwest Ballet is one of those top companies), but this March we were lucky enough to welcome back the artists of Dance Theatre of Harlem to the Paramount for two far-too-brief performances. With a diverse program of works spanning decades, genres, styles, and moods, one thread wove throughout: Dance Theatre of Harlem knows exactly who they are as a company: limitless.
Starting with Balanchine is always a good idea. In this program, opening with Donizetti Variations, Balanchine’s structure and form served as a foundation upon which the more contemporary works could bloom, for if you have no foundation how can you jump straight to the heights of Forthythe’s racing starkness? Although the rest of the program showed Dance Theatre of Harlem’s ability to bring cutting-edge new experiences to the stage, Donizetti Variations highlighted their classical technical excellence, which is, of course, what allows the rest to unfurl so naturally and effortlessly. Donizetti Variations, which premiered in 1960 at New York City Ballet, is a bright, folk-infused piece that seems to hold the foretelling spirit of Balanchine’s 1974 Coppélia. The crossed arms, rocking steps, and jutted hips show all the classic folk influence that Balanchine returned to again and again. It’s a nod to the past while simultaneously showing how he was able to push ballet and make each step feel brilliantly fresh. His genius for creating patterns (such as when two spiraling couples become eclipsed by the line of dancers passing through them) and his ability to “quote” himself (Donizetti Variations reuses one phrase used in “Hot Chocolate” of his 1954 The Nutcracker) are clear in this sunny work. As the lead couple, Alexandra Hutchinson and David Wright were full of carefree glee through each precise step, and Wright’s turns were such a shocking sight that they temporarily transformed the theater into a roaring stadium. As with most Balanchine works, it felt as though the delight could have gone on and on, revealing layers of depths beneath its sunny disposition.
Take Me With You's compelling rhythm emphasizes the body’s natural desire for movement, shown in two dancers who turn and twist along undiscovered paths in their entangling connections. Premiering at the Polish National Ballet in 2016, Robert Bondara's pas de deux holds a quality of the infinite within its lovely hue, like these two dancers keep weaving onwards out of sight even once the curtain falls. Its rhythm is its driving force, one which draws you into a hazy world where all that matters is never-ending rolling movement, and the beat which keeps the world turning. The percussion that the dancers create further emphasizes the human need for rhythm, a hunger that drives each reach and leap of faith. Some ballets threaten to swallow you whole, to take you from the world you inhabit and let it wash away until all that exists is this hazy blue stage, a steady, intoxicating beat, and motion that carries on like waves upon the shore.
It’s not every day that a company decides to debut a new work while on tour, but I for one am impressed and grateful that Dance Theatre of Harlem deemed Seattle worthy of being the first city to see Robert Garland’s The Cookout. Most choreographic works show artists bringing a certain vision to life, artists living within the bounds of their art, but The Cookout shows what ballet looks like within its people. How freely it lives within them, and how it glimmers here and there even in moments when its classical roots feel distant. It’s a world away from the qualities that most people associate with ballet, but my goodness, these artists know how to dance their hearts out and make it look like the most natural response to a compelling melody. Here, ballet belongs to the people, to every living heart. In work and pleasure, the joyful dignity flows as easily as a river, coming from some contained source and bursting out, unbound.
It feels less like prescribed choreography, and more like a remarkable group of dancers letting their walls down to simply enjoy the gift of movement. If theaters and studios were to disappear tomorrow, would the dance go with it? Or would it flood to the streets? To backyards and alleys, and ripple through bodies as easily as a breeze? Dancers need to move, and what this piece so beautifully portrays is that contrasting learned movement patterns live simultaneously within the body. Classical ballet technique lives right beside the contemporary, the drilled exactitude right beside the intuitively improvised. In The Cookout, the dancers of Dance Theatre of Harlem declare that ballet belongs to those who let it fill their limbs, and that ballet must not be separated from culture, but rather that it only grows more authentic and impassioned when imbued with life’s reflection. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen ballet look so genuinely human. What a beautiful sight.
In the past, I’ve often found that beautiful dance relies on beautiful music, but William Forthythe’s Blake Works IV (The Barre Project) proved me terribly wrong in that regard. Movement can exist independently of its musical accompaniment, and even sound that is nearly unnerving in its raw nature can serve as the background for movement which finds meaning and beauty far beyond the confines of rhythm and melody. The Barre Project began as a digitally streamed work during the height of the pandemic, and the roots of that concept can be seen in this live version, which ushered in an appreciation for the fact that partnering with a barre is now an artistic choice rather than a safety mandate. In the blaring dark, dancers clad in plum-hued velvet moved through the stark light with such decisive force that their limbs became a blur. Forthythe has a gift for capturing limitless urgency and hunger for movement in each far-reaching swell. At the end of this exhilarating night, it was hard to believe that just a few hours prior, the dancers of Dance Theatre of Harlem had been stepping through the complexity of Donizetti Variations, for the dark confines of Forthythe seemed a world away from where the night had begun. But, that might just be the brilliance of this company, and of this carefully-crafted program that left a tantalizing thrill of the limitless bounds of dance and its people.
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