BWW Reviews: Juilliard Graduates Show Off Their Talent with SEVEN NEW HUES

Juilliard's 2013 graduating class captivated the audience on Sunday, May 4, at the Rosemary and Meredith Willson Theater, with seven new world premiere choreographed works by Jason Collins, Julia Headley, Garth Johnson, David Norsworthy, Raymond Pinto, Lilja Ruriksdottir and Lea Ved.

Choreographer Jason Collins kicked off the afternoon with So Close, So Far, featuring four dancers dressed in white. Strewn about the stage, they inched toward each other with slow subtle movements, reaching out as they continued to intertwine. In a repeated motif, one dancer seemed to be struggling, his head falling back as the others stood before him, before collapsing back onto the floor. The dancers then moved quickly in unison, returning to the slow-paced movement that began the work.

A contemporary jazz work, Parallel Progressions, choreographed by Raymond Pinto, introduced four dancers, their movements sharp and edgy, then fluid and smooth--a test of endurance, utilizing the entire stage, gracefully fluttering from one move to the next. They executed intricate partnering work, swift turns, moved in and out of pathways, slid down to the floor and were quick to rise up. They exuded a certain level of intentional confidence, which was apparent in their facial expressions. The music was upbeat and theatrical sounding at the beginning, becoming slower and somber at the end.

The Foozle Defenestrations, created by David Norsworthy, was a quirky interpretative dance. Five interpreters crawled out from underneath a piano placed upstage left, while another came out to the center, announcing the dance to be "about nothing." Ji-Yong Kim played Bedlam, an original score composed by Aaron Severini, as the performers scattered around, immersed in their own individual and eccentric activities. During the performance, some of the interpreters randomly yelled out and even made their way out to interact with the audience. At one point, the sole female dancer asked a man for six verbs, then wrote them on a piece of paper and stuck them on the piano. The dance then went headlong into more steps, songs, a gymnastic routine and a confrontation between two dancers that started with punching, but resolved itself in hugging. It seemed as if the dancers were in the midst of a choreographic "playtime," tapping into creative places in order to conjure up inspiration.

Julia Headley's Glimpse was visually engaging, maneuvering the dancers around the stage, while they held stretchy black cords. The dancers began nestled in a large clump, each one clutching a cord. As the piece progressed, several of the dancers released the cords and dispersed, leaving only two dancers on stage attached to the cords. Other dancers frequently came out, grabbing a cord and stretching it to its capacity until it snapped out of their hands. The visuals of the dust left swirling in the air after the cracking sound of the cord brought unique sensory elements to the dance, making it stand out from the rest of the works.

These Empty Buildings, created by Garth Johnson, featured an original score by Riley Mulherkar, utilizing four live musicians playing their instruments on the sides of the stage. The dancers, dressed in casual brightly colored clothing, moved mostly in unison in the beginning, later splitting off into smaller groups. There were various partnerings between dancers; however, when they danced as a group in unison, the movement seemed to sweep back and forth across the floor in melodic waves. The mood of the dancers progressed from slightly irritated in the beginning to lighthearted in the second half. Portraying what seemed like a tight-knit group of friends, the dancers' movements represented the type of conflict and resolution all close friends go through. In the end, the dancers sat in a group, while one dancer walked off into the distance.

Ends, choreographed by Lilja Ruriksdottir, presented four dancers displaying a different color as part of their outfits. One dancer entered from each corner of the space, all of them meeting in the middle and bending down slowly, while staring accusingly at each other. Throughout the dance, there was evidence of playful movement, such as attempting to high-five. Different pairs of dancers also repeatedly made their way to the middle of the space to sit down and take out little pieces of paper. They continue to vocalize to one another in what seems like a made-up language. There were also sections where they would all stare off into the distance in silence, and then randomly yell out or whisper different phrases. In the end, they stared at the back wall sitting on the ground.

The Cadence, which was the seventh and last piece of the show, choreographed by Lea Ved, featured six dancers, accompanied with ominous music that seemed to drive the their movement. Throughout the piece, the performers displayed fluid movement that progressed into sharp hits. The dancers seemed to radiate an intensity that was vividly palpable. In the end, the dancers were in a large cluster, and, as the lights dimmed, they posed, but never stop moving.

At the end of the production, all of the dancers came out to take a bow, and performed a short dance to We Go Together from Grease. It was a perfect ending for a splendid afternoon.

Photo credit: Gregory Costanzo

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