Eiko and Koma's 1999 Snow, new to New York, travels from one side of the stage to the other. Exquisitely succinct. Timeless. Rentaro Taki's music, the lighting Jeff Fontaine created with the choreographers, and the snow that drifts down tell us it is night. The dancers are as pale as ghosts; a wind blows Eiko's white kimono. At first, the two lean together, but as they progress across the stage, Koma, in his black robe, keeps fading into the darkness like a phantom lover, only to materialize againenveloping her from behind, kneeling to touch her face. In darkness, in snow, reality sinks into mysteries.
There's nothing uncertain about Halprin in her talking solo From 5 to 110. Playful, lusty, she leads us swiftly through her childhood, her fuck-you teen rebellions, her role as a radical in dance, her cancer at 50, her fresh understanding of plants and animals. Slyly, she shows us how she hopes to dance at 110. Kicking up her heels, she looks just like the five-year-old self she showed us minutesyearsbefore.