Review: BODYTRAFFIC'S THIS REMINDS ME OF YOU at the Kennedy Center

 Los Angeles-based contemporary dance company BODYTRAFFIC made its Kennedy Center debut Wednesday night with This Reminds Me of You, a program of three recently commissioned works by American choreographers. This eight-person company was founded in 2007 and has performed across the US and internationally, so this trip to the DMV was overdue. 

The program opened with Trey McIntyre’s homage to Buddy Holly, Mayday. Set to many of Holly’s classic songs, the piece is a meditation on death and focuses on Holly’s early death in a plane crash. The dancers took turns carrying a miniature red plane, weaving among each other, as a foreboding omen of death. Death is the great interrupter of life, but this obvious, unsubtle device also interrupted whatever flow and poetry this dance had. Still, at times the stunning dancers were able to rise above the puerile steps, in particular Chandler Davidson who attacked the steps with languor and grace, at once both rhythmic and smooth, as if oozing slime to a beat. Others fell forward or leaned dangerously into turns, stretching the limits of where one can safely balance, creating breathtaking images. 

The costumes, however - skinny black suits à la Buddy Holly but cropped to show off the dancers’ tight abs - stole attention in a bad way. Yes, the dancers have fit bodies, but why is that important to highlight? This was amplified by McIntyre’s recurring movement motif of drumming hands on the stomach. Most of the movement was in unison, adding to the precision kickline feel of it. Beautifully danced but void of meaning. 

The most successful work of the evening was the third, Incense Burning on a Saturday Morning: The Maestro choreographed by Juel D. Lane. Inspired by the paintings of Ernie Barnes, the social dance steps evoked the ecstasy that comes from losing oneself in the music during a night dancing with friends. At times it was unclear if the steps were intended for the audience or only the other dancers onstage. This vacillating intention detracted from the work’s impact, though the intimate exchanges between the dancers were poetic and entrancing. The choreography was highly percussive and, for the first time that evening, allowed the dancers to be individuals onstage with distinct steps, costumes and interpretive ownership over their movement. The original score by Munir Zakee propelled the work, and I particularly enjoyed the inventive use of video to suggest the artist Barnes was painting the dance we were watching. 

I shouldn’t knock the harmonious execution of movement in the other works. These dancers were in sync on a cellular level, far deeper than just the steps. It takes proprioception, breathing and lots of practice to achieve that level of unison. But while the dancers are clearly outstanding technicians, the choreography gave them few opportunities to demonstrate emotional or artistic range. I left the evening with the sense that they were physically tired but had so much more to give. 

Performances run through Thursday, October 30 in the Eisenhower Theater. 

Runtime: Two hours, with one intermission.