Ballet Pacifica. - South Coast Repertory Theatre, Costa Mesa, California - dance reviews

Dance Magazine, Nov, 1995 by Pamela Hurley Diamond

SOUTH COAST REPERTORY THEATRE, COSTA MESA, CALIFORNIA JULY 29, 1995 REVIEWED BY PAMELA HURLEY DIAMOND

There were no cameras but plenty of lights and action nonetheless as Ballet Pacifica's fifth annual Choreographic Project wound to a close with an evening of premieres. The program showcased an eclectic array of works in progress created for the company by four guest choreographers during a two-week summer workshop.

A bare, curtainless stage and minimal costuming served as reminders that when movement and music meld they need no distractions. The spareness, however, added an extra degree of pressure for the dancers, who were performing choreography that often challenged them to stretch beyond the comfortable idiom of traditional ballet.

Black-and-white leotards presaged the neoclassical linearity of Trey McIntyre's Poulenc Variations. Gentle without being sentimental, emotion flowed from the music and through the dancers' bodies in spare, clean lines and patterns. Pas de deux and pas de trois offered an unusual juxtaposition of male and female roles: a lyrical, almost nurturing bond among the men was contrasted with quick, strong, and aggressively angular choreography for the women. Characterized by a certain hip elegance, Poulenc Variations most ably displayed the dancers' capabilities, with a particularly strong performance by Jewel Tweten.

In Jamboree Lucinda Hughey set the dancers in classic poses to create dramatic architecture on a backlit stage, then shattered the expected as they lit up the stage in a zest of color and wound themselves together like the mechanisms of a clock. A windmill turn amid a melee of dancers made way for sensuous, elongated balances; attention to detail focused on a scooped foot or suddenly fluid hands. The ambitious physicality of the choreography threatened to overwhelm the dancers at times, but the transitions were fast-paced and smooth while maintaining the tension and inherent drama of the work.

Todd Williams's Wake, Yet Wake stirred the senses with a poignant longing for more. Barefoot, tunic-clad dancers moved like white columns in a shaft of light, hands clasped as they wove back and forth, forming a circle, a connected line, a sculpture reminiscent of a Renaissance painting. Movement traced a path from questioning to belief, resistance to yielding, from the fluid limpness of a martyred figure to the supplication of bowed heads and palm's raised in prayer. Evocative, spiritual, and ultimately joyful, with a pleasing spontaneity and an experimental, free-form quality, Wake, Yet Wake allowed the dancers to relax into the choreography and shine through it.

The evening ended on a blues note: Saturday Night, a finger-snapping, hip-swiveling, fizzy drink of a piece choreographed by Ginger Thatcher. Songs by Keb' Mo' and Etta James told the story and propelled the movement forward as guys in slouch hats and gals in floaty, flirty summer dresses led a carefree romp across the stage. Swishy rather than sultry, limp-wristed when it could have been hot-headed, Saturday Night seemed too much sugar and not enough spice to live up to such truly great music.