Kimberly Bartosik, Judith Sánchez Ruíz, Souleymane Badolo, and Miro Magloire All Make Small Big

Magloire has set his new Allegretto Innocente to Haydn’s Piano Sonata No. 32 and one movement from No. 54. For this, the choreographer has made use of a piece of black cloth that any two of the dancers (Brandt, North, and LeCrone) may hold up to curtain part of a soloist’s body or wrap around themselves to suggest noble mourners. As in the earlier pieces, the interplay between stillness and lively motion and between soloist and attendants is charmingly engineered.

These women are accomplished dancers, and the close quarters have an impact—both delightful and problematic—on how we perceive them. When Toole spins a light, effortless pirouette, with one leg raised behind her in attitude, close to the front row of seats, you can almost feel a breeze. When North, posed behind a soloist in Lace, looks as if she’s thinking about her laundry (instead of, say, watching her friend dance or looking out to a distant sea), it’s unduly distracting. And when any one of them projects for even a few seconds the look of faint disdain that often taints ballet manners, the inappropriateness is especially noticeable.

Yi-Chun Wu

Like a black-and-white dream: Kimberly Bartosik and Marc Mann in Bartosik’s "The Materiality of Impermanence"

Kokyat

Victoria North, Lauren Toole (half-hidden), and Amy Brandt in Miro Magloire’s "Allegretto Innocente"

Details

Kimberly Bartosik/daela
Dance Theater Workshop
February 3 through 6

Judith Sánchez Ruíz
Souleymane Badolo
Danspace at Saint Mark’s Church
February 4 through 6

New Chamber Ballet
City Center Studio 4
February 5 through 6

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More About

• Emily SoRelle Adams
• Roderick Murray
• Luke Fasano
• Dance
• Ballet

Maybe that’s part of why I appreciated Deborah Lohse’s Two. Not only do both Carlson and Fader, fine musicians, get to play Stefan Weisman’s commissioned score; the choreography demands that Emily SoRelle Adams and LeCrone focus intently on each other and the import of their actions. The idea is as simple as the women’s black sheaths. Adams is alone, writing the face and form of a companion on the air, kissing the back of her hand and holding it out to that someone. LeCrone enters—a real friend (or a dream of one), whose face can be limned and who kisses the outstretched hand. Doubt and anger begin to deform the companionable dancing. And although the two reconcile warily, in the end, Adams is again alone. Perhaps this sounds trite, but Lohse and the performers (neither, by the way, wearing toe shoes) make it seem both touching and believable.