Emotional Breadth In `Breathing'. - American Dance Festival, Reynolds Industries Theater, Durham, North Carolina - Review - dance review

Dance Magazine, Nov, 2000 by Laura Kumin

EMOTIONAL BREADTH IN `BREATHING' AMERICAN DANCE FESTIVAL DOUG VARONE AND DANCERS REYNOLDS INDUSTRIES THEATER DURHAM, NORTH CAROLINA JULY 10-12, 2000

Doug Varone and his talented company of impassioned movers presented three works at their American Dance Festival engagement, including the world premiere of a festival commission, the aptly titled As Natural As Breathing.

Varone is a gifted choreographic artisan. Although his work is clearly rooted in physicality, he creates contexts and contents that imbue this movement with meaning. Possession uses Philip Glass's intense and driving score to create a microcosm of emotional encounters that subtly examine relationships and their diverse permutations. The eight dancers, dressed in loose white pants and sleeveless shirts, divide into pairs and trios. Couples lock and separate. A constant stream of entrances and exits produces confrontations and encounters, misunderstandings and moments of empathy.

As Natural As Breathing is as light as Possession is dark. Behind a red scrim covered with white spots, the company is hudled in a cluster, dressed in colorful 1960s duds. A Hammond organ kicks in and the dancers gradually spread out in a riot of moving color, making and breaking formations, flowing and changing. Their movements have a likable jazzy syncopation, a bit of relaxed jive. We hear some Motown brass; there are slow tums, hangs and falls and punctuated hip movements. There's a slow saxophone number, a fine, humorous solo for Varone himself in purple pants and a short-sleeved yellow shirt. Big scooping, sculpting arm movements in little rhythmic nips and stops gradually take the group back to their initial core clump, to the strains of "Mercy, Mercy, Mercy."

Sleeping with Giants takes on a weightier theme, that of competition, age and keeping up in a fast-paced, implacable world. Larry Hahn is the odd man out. To the driving chords of Michael Nyman's Concerto for Harpsichord and Orchestra, he is gradually ostracized, manipulated and finally abandoned by the unrelenting group. As Hahn throws himself, exhausted, into the arms of one of the women, the music stops. The red square that has been projected upstage during the piece reveals itself to be a video, which ends, leaving a screenful of black and white snow. The dancers exit. The effect is chilling, the piece disturbing, the structure impeccable.

Varone's movement is clear, fluent and dynamic. He uses space wisely and knows the value of stillness. His statements, supported by the movement itself, are intelligent. With such irreproachable elements at play, it is difficult to explain the sensation of saturation that I felt, a certain sense of choreographic sameness despite a variety of themes. Only other viewings can determine whether this is a true flaw or merely the impression of an evening.