In our first Screen Test, a new series about Yale’s actors, Brennan Caldwell ’12 talks about how he became an actor. Caldwell is starring in Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street at the University Theater.
Rhythmic Blue has pulled out all the stops for their latest show. Titled “thRowBack,” the hip-hop and contemporary dance performance celebrates the group’s 20th anniversary. The stated purpose of the show is to celebrate RB’s past, present and future, which the group does through a wide range of musical selections, ranging from artists like Lupe Fiasco to the K-pop band Girls’ Generation.
The show opens with a medley inspired by wild house parties and the hip-hop duo Kid ’N Play. Appropriately titled “Jam,” the number sets the stage for the high-energy and festive nature of the entire event. Audience members are encouraged to shout out, or “pound,” if they’re enjoying what they’re seeing, and this show gives the audience lots to cheer about.
A few adjectives that came to mind during the performance: “fierce,” “fly,” “sassy.” The choreography is varied so that the show stays interesting while remaining consistent. Luckily, the performers’ energy also stays consistent throughout.
Several seductive numbers interspersed throughout the show, including a solo to Lady Gaga’s “The Fame” that makes use of a rope, a female-dominated dance to Katy Perry’s “Peacock” and another to Rihanna’s “S&M” involving handcuffs, are sure to be crowd-pleasers. It can’t be easy to maneuver in stilettos, but the dancers rise to the challenge and make it look natural and even easy. Don’t be fooled, however: You probably can’t dance like the members of RB, no matter what kind of shoes you’re wearing.
The second act’s opening number, titled “(The Real) Safety Dance,” is a medley of popular ’80s songs performed by dancers decked out in corresponding attire. Although audience members cannot relive their Safety Dance experiences themselves, they can do it vicariously through these dancers — the fun is palpable. To see just how ecstatic they are, sit in the front row: They’ll get up close and personal, at times seeming like they’re about to dance right on top of you. Men with Hats’ “Safety Dance” is not actually part of this routine, but it does feature several karaoke favorites.
Although the majority of the show consists of exciting, high-energy numbers, the show is not without its more serious moments. The second number of the show, “The Mannequins,” has the dancers wearing white masks, which serve to creep out and intimidate the audience as they perform mechanically in perfect sync with the music.
The slower numbers provide a nice respite from the show’s otherwise constant intensity. They do not bore the audience, but rather give them a chance to reflect and admire the skillful choreography presented throughout the entire show. In addition to the hip-hop and contemporary dance moves expected from RB, a few other styles of dance, such as pointe, find their way into a few of the routines.
Some of the more interesting numbers in the show are those that attempt to tell a story. The number “High Times,” a tribute to getting high, is appropriate for the show’s proximity to 4/20.
For its grand finale, the entire company presents a medley featuring hip-hop artists from Kurtis Blow to OutKast. The final number spans the history of RB’s 20-year run, tying together the past, present and future with both old-school and contemporary beats.
This show promises to be exciting and entertaining for all members of the audience, from those who have never attended an RB show to those who have been fans since 1991. Rhythmic Blue’s 20th anniversary spring show is one you won’t want to miss — make sure to arrive early, and be ready to pound.
As soon as Chaka Jaliwa ’11 stepped out of his freestyle stomp during the one of many dance breaks and into a rendition of “100 Days and 100 Nights” that would make Sharon Jones stand up and shout, “YOU DO YOU,” I knew “Souled Out 2” was going to turn my soul inside out.
I had initially thought the show would be the soul version of “Glee,” with multicolored costumes and a group of multiethnic beautiful people engaging happily in song. But I was quickly brought to my senses by Alex Caron’s ’13 voice in “Mama Knew Love.” “I’ve heard this voice before,” I thought “but it was singing ‘Fistful of Tears.’” That’s right; Caron has been gifted with the panty-dropping voice of Maxwell. Together with the serenading sounds of Henry Gottfried ’13 and the rest of the cast, the voices are like warm velvet over naked skin.
Maxwell does not belong in a family-friendly performance, and neither do any of the singers of “Souled Out 2”. Their performances are provocative and spiritually grounded in a way that Yale does not see very often. Through the music, the audiences are taken through the passions felt in each song: love, betrayal, heartbreak, unbearable loneliness and inner turmoil. Unlike “Glee,” these performers need no plot to make sure their artistic spirits touch the souls of the audience members.
Hand-held microphones and the selection of soloists made damn sure that the audience knew the performance was about music, not dramatic lyrics. To the theater buff’s eye, the microphone is a foreign entity. At first they did not seem right among such expressive performances, especially when the placement of the microphone sometimes prevented some of the lyrics from being heard.
Then I realized that the entire performance is important, not just the character of the singer. In time, I became grateful for the reminder to feel what was happening and not just look for the rising drama as I felt it in a song. As far as the soloists, in the second act Caron successfully tackles Lauryn Hill’s imposing “To Zion,” which is about motherhood, while Mary Bolt ’14 performs a stirring version of Marc Broussard’s “Let Me Leave.” Each song is gender-specific, but the emotional impact that comes across in each performance is certainly not.
The thing about soul music is that it makes you have a lot of feelings, and this is what “Souled Out 2” is really about: studying the emotional power of music. The voices, the passion behind them, the magnificent band accompanying, the lights, the staging were all meticulously chosen by director Michael Blume ’12 to gift the audience with the moving ebbs and flows of each musical number’s nature.
“Souled Out 2” not only includes soul ballads, but also pop music hits covered by people with, let’s face it, more raw talent than the original performers and with a real band instead of synths. From Anna Miller’s ’14 version of “Nobody’s Perfect” (it was infinitely better than Jessie J’s) to Ker Medero’s ’12 spine-tingling rendition of Bruno Mars’ hit “Grenade,” “Souled Out 2” is a show for all people — fans of soul or not — to enjoy.
In all honesty, my mind was blown. Not since my childhood had I felt the tingle all over my body and the quick hit to my diaphragm that caused me to lose my breath from a powerful gospel chord. The voices compounded with the poignant performances literally moved me to tears. Maybe not everyone is simultaneously spiritually and physically aroused by a fantastic musical performance, but if you can relate in the minutest way, go see this show. It was a revelation.
Do you think Q-Pac girls can get it? Then you haven’t been to a Groove dance show. The members of the company dance, seduce and grind. They even do the splits.
If Yale is all about diversity, then Groove’s dance show sums that motto up in their hour-long performance, GrooveTube. The company, which was founded in 2002, aims to incorporate a vast array of dances into their shows: jazz, hip hop and modern, but mostly, any dance that the members want to perform. The company takes pride in involving every dancer’s idea in the shows. This attitude has resulted in a varied perfomance that comes at you from all sides. Literally, the audience is pulled into the show. From the Glee version of “How to Find Somebody to Love” to Eminem’s “Love the Way You Lie,” the fluid, well-choreographed performances were executed with passion and zest.
The show broke most of the conventional norms of dance by weaving “groove” into narratives, like the story of Cinderella. Later, in a number entitled “Us,” members of the troupe even incorporated a dinner party into the performance complete with wine and full splits across the dining room table. The scene was meant to depict the dancers (in the future) reminiscing about their times in Groove. Though the story line gets lost in translation, the dance itself was executed phenomenally.
But the most memorable performance was “Mirrors,” a powerful number in which four dancers depicted Vanity, Sex, Love and Control. Some dancers fornicated, others resisted, but each perfectly embodied the role he or she was playing. Distinctions were clear: Love was seen as Love, nothing else. Groove’s former president, Murad Khan ’11 played Sex and was, to say the least, unforgettable. It’s hard to imagine how the dancers moved so flexibly and with constantly painted facial expressions: smiles, anger, sorrow. You name it. They even had a very emotional and sexy portion that seemed to emulate the Moulin Rouge — dancers in seductive, black attire captivated the audience while bathed in an intense red light. The scene had a very powerful impact as the dancers glided around, jumping and twirling in stillettos.
But the show’s strengths went beyond just dance. There was a remarkable play between light and sound. Often passionate scenes started with an intense red or blue light, whereas the classical ballet scenes were depicted in a softer, more naturalistic glow. Mostly clad in black and white, the dancers contrasted well with the extreme and varied lighting. At times it was a bit distracting, but overall it gave the performances an almost surreal quality.
This student-run production is full of energy and passion and caters to a varied audience — there seems to be something for everyone. You don’t have to love a particular kind of dance to enjoy Groove. In fact, chances are you will find the dance type you love because it’s so varied. And not only will you be awed by the fabulous, capable dancers but you’ll be singing the songs when you leave. Now you don’t need to YouTube; you can “GrooveTube.”
The advertisements for Danceworks’ show at the Off-Broadway Theater are almost too sexy to handle. Members of the troupe don costumes any Village People fanboy would love and pose sensually on ladders, fences and in libraries. This is a clear contradiction of what I knew about Danceworks: the company accepts all people and lets anyone choreograph.
But maybe these notions are not in opposition. “What’s Your Fantasy,” named for one of the sexist songs Ludacris ever recorded, was a bit like a high school dance show. The dancers are not trained, but they are enthusiastic and into the music. There were a lot of thrusts, humping the floor and some trippy flashing lights, but you know what? It was great.
Call it the layman’s dance show if you must, but Danceworks’ pieces have nothing to do with those stuffy lyrical dances choreographed to some esoteric song with no beat that are so grossly popular amongst serious-yet-not-professional dancers. Though amateurs at best, the dancers were great performers. Their smiles and obvious love of dancing made the show engaging. They lost themselves in the music and made me want to scream, “You go girls! You work that Beyonce.”
The music made it exceedingly easy to enjoy the performance. The dancers shook their thangs to lyricists like Gaga, Cyndi Lauper, Katy Perry and Britney, an array of songs that make you want to stand up and get down with them. The choreography was interesting, but not too advanced. It seemed as though the choreographers were conscious of the skill levels of the individual dancers so that they would not look foolish, yet capitalized on the individual strengths of the company members; some members could do flips, others splits and yet others could booty pop.
Each and every dance was short, featuring punchy, to the point choreography. There was never a song that was not rhythmically uninteresting or sleep-inducing. They were all obviously crowd-pleasers, leaving the audience wanting more.
The best display of skill in the show was the ballroom styling of Viktorija Aleksejeva ’14 and her partner Christopher Logan ’14. They moved together seamlessly and Alekseiva looked as if she could be a professional on “Dancing With the Stars.” They were mesmerizing together yet maintained the celebratory tone of the rest of the show.
The second act was even more dynamic than the first. The songs were better and featured sexier, “Kings and Queens of Toads” choreography. The numbers spanned a variety of decades beginning with a lap dance/communist Beatles tribute, and finishing off with a rendition of “She-Wolf” that would put Shakira’s music video to shame.
The last, and perhaps best, part of the show was the finale where every member of Danceworks danced on stage to the oh-so tingly Luda song. I had not noticed before, but Danceworks is gigantic. Each and every one of its members is performing just for fun, despite a lack of training that made me want to be friends with them, go up on stage and dance.
The show is a good time. There are a lot of opportunities to see some intriguing dance moves to try at Toads, hear some pump-up music and experience some very interesting light production. With a few friends, and a handle … on popular music, this show is a good way to start the weekend.
This is most definitely not the kind of peacock your mom pointed out to you at the zoo. But the colors are just as lustrous, the grace as palpable and the pulsating, essential life as evident.
“Peacock,” going up this weekend, is the latest show by The Bad Romantics — an organization known to dazzle, shock and inspire, but rarely disappoint. Also, they borrowed the title from Katy Perry.
Needless to say, this reviewer went in with high expectations.
Eleven group members feature in the production, directed by Kiki Fehling ’11 and produced by Alejandro Bustillos ’11. The essential concept is simple: lip-syncing to a (relatively) well-known song, while channeling the performer’s perception of its meaning.
But then comes the drama.
And the cross-dressing.
And the sequins.
At least, unlike that frat boy handing you a cup as brightly colored as his polo shirt, the show is honest about its intentions. It, like him, wants to seduce you. That much is made obvious by the opening act, an arresting performance to Doris Day’s “Dream a Little Dream of Me” by Luca (Mariana Arjona Soberón ’13). Soberón’s talent might lie in her convincing acting or her ability to make a knee-length dress the right amount of provocative, but in the words of my French teacher (hi, Catharine!), she just has a certain “je ne sais quoi.”
Next up is “Lady Marmalade.” Christina Aguilera never stood a chance — Azure Ice (Bustillos) and the delightfully manic Franca Lingua (Julio Perez-Torres ’12) own the number. The Chicago medley is brilliant as well. Alana (Fehling) and Gypsy Pearl (Kate Parker ’11) channel Roxy Hart and Velma Kelly to the point where you feels a tad nervous about an impending murder.
Later in the show, LMNT’s “Hey Juliet” evinces the fact that genitalia do not a boy band make. Many a bad case of Bieber-fever may well turn into Yoshi-mania come this weekend, for Adam Swagger (Yoshi Shapiro ’11) is true heartthrob material.
But depth always underlies the Romantics’ fun. Consider a Disney medley where dildos take the place of Ariel’s “gadgets and gizmos galore,” an act featuring a gardener whose life anthem is Madonna’s “Material Girl,” and a desperate woman’s emotional breakdown to Whitney Houston’s “Look to You.” The show is entertaining, yes, but it makes you think as much as it makes you tap your foot.
Fun education is what college is about, amirite?
Nowhere is this maxim more clear than in the show’s pièce de résistance, Parker and Shapiro’s take on Meaghan Smith’s “Here Comes Your Man.” A cute couple walks on stage and proceeds to (almost) strip, each move more elegant than the last. The end result: They switch clothes, genders, identities. It’s all as fluid as a love song, and as irresistible, too.
The uniting thread between the performances is the show’s energy. Everyone on stage is having the time of their lives, it seems, as they communicate an infectious enthusiasm to an audience ready to perform high-kicks in the aisles. Trey Songz’s “Say Ahh” is the pinnacle of the show’s achievement in this sense — dancing almost becomes a physical necessity.
So, when the show lets you down, it lets you down hard. Occasional drops in energy frustrate viewers; the performers would be wise to keep their intensity high, even when delving into deeper material than the Madonna kind.
Another potential field for improvement is choreography. Enthralling as the performances are, a slight move towards more precision might push them into truly epic status.
Only at Yale would you see a group so daring perform in a theater that’s hosted operas and student-penned emodramas, classics and new sensations. Only at Yale could this group be as popular and mainstream as they are, and only at Yale could you have the opportunity to watch a show that is sexual liberation. It’s Toad’s and sociology rolled into one.
If TAPS Dance Company’s annual show, “Tappy Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stomp,” were a flavor of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, it would be coffee. The show provides an energizing kick, (not to mention literal kicks, probably thousands over the course of the hour), and satisfies a craving — a craving for our favorite adolescent wizard, that is.
The variety of the numbers, the assortment of wacky costumes, and the technical precision sustained throughout the show would cause any lowly Muggle in the audience not endowed with magical tapping powers to exclaim, “Merlin’s beard!” (just in case your Potter slang’s a little rusty, this is an exclamation of surprise or awe.)
Do you find yourself, however, looking into the future and imagining that all the TAPS numbers would feel the same? Some flying feet, mellow jazz music, maybe even some jilted Gene-Kelly-inspired chapeaux? How crazy can tap really get? Divine again. “Tappy Potter’s” main strength lies in its mix of choreographic odes to the past, present and future.
There’s an old school number for the classic-tap-at-heart danced to Oscar Peterson’s “Days of Wine and Roses,” that feels like a scene from Singin’ in the Rain. There’s another more fast-paced throwback piece danced to “42nd Street,” complete with cancan lines, jazz hands and gold-sequined suits.
In a more contemporary wavelength, the show opens with a rousing dance-off in which four beastly tappers duel to T-Pain’s “Church.” No wands needed; spells are cast in the form of nasty tap and hip-hop skills. TAPS members also have ballet and lyrical tricks up their sleeves, which they reveal in two pieces danced to Maroon 5’s “Little More of Your Time” and Sara Bareilles’s “King of Anything” in the second half of the show.
And this is where it gets stupefying, if the level of technique wasn’t mystifying enough already.
A piece entitled “Distortion” concludes the first act, in which part of the ensemble wears silver spandex and demonstrates angular, robotic movements for a metalloid tap twist. “Glow Tap” — in which a backlit stage gives the illusion the tappers have donned invisibility cloaks save their “glowing” shoes and hats — provides an innovative conclusion to a second act marked by the same energy level as the first.
And, of course, there’s the timeless Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone to tie this multi-dimensional performance together. Although tappers abandon their brooms and capes for some of the numbers, Hogwarts-themed “interludes” act as an over-arching, comical thread to the show.
The most conducive to tap, and by extension the most amusing, is a parody of the popular “Harry Potter Puppet Pals” YouTube video. A TAPS dancer masquerading as the infamous Severus Snape begins the well-known chant: “Snape, Snape, Sev-er-us Snape … ” and another dancer, costumed in full-on wizard apparel (white beard and all), leaps from stage right and shouts, “Dumbledore!” The well-loved Ron Weasley and Hermione also make their cameo appearances and continue the enchanted tap jam session.
The finale of “Tappy Potter” brings together all of its best elements. The entire company, in black and white outfits, grooves with synchronized precision to Michael Jackson’s (of course) “Black and White” in a group number that for some reason departs from The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. After the final pose, a spin-off of Far East Movement’s “Like a G6” blasts through the theater for the curtain call, but these dancing Hogwarts students fly “like it’s Quidditch!”
You can apparate on over to the Off-Broadway Theater at 8:00 p.m. this weekend through Saturday to catch a glimpse of these charmed students’ unique take on tap. By the end, you won’t need to be cast with the Tarantallegra spell; you‘ll just want to get up there and dance with TAPS, too.
Picture a theatre performance. The essentials: stage, actors and audience, each a separate entity serving its own purpose. But through their most recent project, “Streamline Integration Celebration,” SIC InC and Control Group strive to destroy any pre-conceived ideas of what defines a production through their self-described “avant-garde, experimental” work. Avant-garde, indeed. The performance takes place in several, elegant rooms in the clubhouse of St. Anthony’s Hall, a semi-secret three-year society. The performance — which is composed of a series of strange interactive scenes — is shrouded in a type of mystery that at once entertains and baffles the audience.
The audience is integrated into the show from the start. Upon entering St. Anthony’s Hall, audience members take part in an off-kilter dinner party put on by an eccentric, cult-like posse, played by the members of Control Group, Yale’s only experimental theatre ensemble. The show begins the moment the viewers/participants step through to the “reception room” where they must partake in the kooky ritualistic dances planned by the ensemble. Then, audience members are led down into a banquet hall, descending into the basement and further levels of strangeness. The members of SIC InC provided the soundtrack for the evening, alternating between providing background music and commanding the attention of the room.
The strange pausings in the music and the random tappings of the players on their instruments contribute to an overall sense of disorderliness in the performance, as though half of the group had missed a beat.
But Naomi Woo ’12, co-music director of SiC INC, explained that the chaos is intentional. One song, “Les Moutons de Panurge” by Frederic Rzewski, is a piece about “the absurdity of group mentality.” The score is intentionally hard to follow, and the instructions at the top of the score read, “If you get lost, stay lost. Continue to follow the rules strictly.” Taken in this light, the musical selections add to the creepy ambiance of the performance, creating the sense that one of the performers could lose his mind at any moment.
Will Turner ’11 — a member of Control Group who co-directed the performance alongside Avery Faller ’11 — said experimental theatre is “nebulous,” an appropriate way to describe not only the unconventional approach of the ensemble, but also the purpose of the performance. With its “mad-scientist”-esque costumes and eerie flashing lights, the show is certainly fascinating. But its fault is that it is fascinating only for the sake of being fascinating. The quirky goings-on that surround the audience formulate some sort of narrative: an evening dinner with eccentric “Addams family” types. But what is lacking from that narrative is a clear message that ties the whole show together.
If the purpose of the co-directors was to showcase a different type of theatre performance, they succeeded. And if performance is defined as strictly entertainment, SIC InC and Control Group have sufficiently completed their task. Audience members will enjoy the various progressions of the performance that both excite and alarm. But upon exiting they will ask themselves not only, “What just happened?,” but also, “So what?” The mystery that characterizes the whole performance permeates through the actions of the ensemble cast and to the show’s message. The show is worth seeing for its entertainment value but, ultimately, its random quirks serve little purpose than to bewilder the audience.
They glide across the stage, balanced on the very tips of their toes, their lovely, lean bodies creating an impossibly straight yet fluid vision. At times, they leap in stark lighting, at others, they pirouette across a vibrant background. In one number, they writhe in all black, and in another, they flirt in sequined jackets. The contrasting elements of the Yaledancers’ fall show create a smorgasbord for the eyes, an aesthetically satisfying meal that finds harmony in the balance of contrasting elements of dance and design.
Yaledancers, the oldest dance group on campus, hosts its fall show this weekend through Saturday at the Educational Center for the Arts theatre (corner of Orange and Audubon streets). The inconvenient location is immediately forgotten upon entering the performance space. Reminiscent of a black box theatre, the space creates an intimate yet expansive environment — a contradiction similarly expressed in the Yaledancers’ performance. Pieces range from large group dance numbers comprising enough jumps and leaps to make your own calves ache, to solos and duos as vulnerable and private as a teenage girl’s diary.
While the balance of these qualities creates an enticing show, it is the intimate expression achieved by certain dancers that truly satiates the audience. Natalie Drucker ’14 gracefully and tragically creates the tale of “The Dying Swan” with remarkable emotional and physical honesty. Kelvin Vu’s ’11 presence is particularly captivating on stage; his complete surrender to the performance surges through every inch of his acrobatic body.
The synchronized balance created between duo partners keeps the show cohesive. While there are some synchronal rough spots — both emotional and physical — elsewhere in the show, there are none for Nick Murphy ’12 and Nate Freeman LAW ’11 in “Little Bit of Love,” where the emotional and physical unity is as rich as dark chocolate. Elena Light ’13 and Henry Gottfried ’13 time their comedic French foibles par excellence.
That being said, the expansive elements of the performance too deserve a nod. There are a record-breaking number of undergraduate and graduate dancers in Yaledancers this year — 28. Yaledancers typically selects only two new dancers per year; this year the talent pool was so phenomenal that they selected eight. Yaledancers set another record this year with five male dancers, which enabled them to “create more exciting stories,” said Yaledancers Co-President Gabrielle Karol ’11.
That is quite true. The male dancers prove an integral part in relating a range of stories — from war to homosexuality. The entire group tells stories that run the gamut: the comical theatricality of the grad student throw-down is matched by esoteric modern dance pieces. A new facet of Yaledancers this year is the inclusion of guest choreographers in the fall show. Most notable is Owen Davis, a choreographer who has worked in New York City and with the Harvard Ballet Company (but we won’t hold that against him).
Lighting and costume design were not mere embellishments in this production, but necessary elements developed with specificity and detail. Beautiful stage pictures were created with the help of some seriously well-orchestrated spotlights and background color effects. The range of costuming complimented the flavor of each dance piece.
While balance was abundant in the show as a whole, the lack of variety in dance genres was a bit surprising. The program consists of ballet, pointe, jazz and modern. There was much variety between different numbers within the same genre, but a tap piece would have been a welcome break from an otherwise modern-dance-heavy show.
Still, if you are hungry for a well-balanced artistic meal, the Yaledancers fall show will satisfy.
Four-leaf clovers, broken mirrors, Friday the 13th, and knocking on wood inspired A Different Drum’s fall dance show, aptly titled “Supersition.” At times overly-silly but otherwise sincere, the show entertains with its off-the-wall interpretations, but is rarely subtle.
The show, artistically directed by Elizabeth Eddy ’11 and overseen by company president Sarai Itagaki ’11, is framed by superstitions, with four interludes, each of which portrays a different wife’s tale, separating the dance numbers. The performance opens with a dancer who reads aloud from a poem as two other dancers act out the narrative. This introduction describes two dancers extinguishing a fire — ultimately hinting at the fire safety rules in the Off Broadway Theater where the show is held. The mood appears lighthearted, yet as the show progresses moments of seriousness and even melancholy punctuate the jesting.
From the very beginning of the first act, A Different Drum’s eccentric style is evident. The dances combine elements of technical skill and movement with playful, dramatic — at times, too dramatic — reenactments of the lyrics of the songs accomapnying each dance.
In a dance entitled “Big Bad,” choreographed by Kat Zukaitis DIV ’11, Laurel Hunt ’11 plays Little Red Riding Hood. Four other dancers don fake fur and chase Hunt around stage. She fluidly and gracefully leaps and rolls around stage to avoid the wolves. The concept, costumes and music successfully turn the narrative into movement. To the uninitiated audience member, this piece seems to be an unexpected nod to the avant-garde.
But there are times when the interpretations get a little too literal. Rather than taking the elements of a song as inspiration, the dances sometimes focus too closely on reenacting the themes in the music. In “My Zombina,” the dancers perform a piece during which they hold their arms out as though they are all zombies and stumble around. This dance seems almost too theatrical, as if the dancers have suddenly become actors in a bad horror film.
A Different Drum straddles the line between dancing and acting. One of the most striking pieces, “I Can’t,” is choreographed by Laure Flapan ’12 and tells the story of two lovers, depicted by Derek DiMartini ’13 and Itagaki.
DiMartini stands stoic and rigid in the center of the stage as Itagaki circles around him, with agitated motion and anguish in her eyes. As Ingrid Michaelson softly sings her cover of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” in the background, Itagaki reaches out for DiMartini, who fends off her advances. She extends her arm towards him one last time and her shaking hand stops just a few inches from his cheek. As she gives up — eyes closed, breathing heavily — and slowly steps away from him, DiMartini finally grabs her wrist. She turns back around, and they share a long gaze as the stage fades to black.
Genuine moments like this keep the show from becoming overly campy — particularly in the closing number set to the tune of Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition.” Choreographed by Itagaki, Eddy, Flapan, and Cathy Chamberlin ’12, the performance features all 23 dancers in the company dancing in lively unison. At times it appears that the dancers will collide with one another on the Off Broadway Theater’s small stage, but their close proximity, yet uninhibited movements, only adds to the spirit and energy.
Although corny at times, perhaps A Different Drum’s aesthetic is simply too forward-thinking for those seeking a more traditional dance experience.
“Superstition” will run at the Off Broadway Theater until Saturday.
SIC InC, normally known for shows featuring extravagant lights and intricate background videos, decided to take things back to basics for its first show of the year, MotionSIC. Without flashy lights or strange background props to enhance the show, SIC InC turned to the Yaledancers to make things interesting.
While SIC InC has incorporated dancers into shows in past years, MotionSIC is the first official collaboration with a Yale dance group. SIC InC Co-President Stephen Feigenbaum ’12, explained the new simplicity of the show by saying they no longer felt the need to use excessiveness to make their show appealing.
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“We don’t need to be doing a million different things to make the show interesting,” he said.
If simplicity was the focus, then the show accomplished its goal. Instead of a visual blitz, the show was driven by the raw emotions of those dancing and playing instruments. The dancers all wore some form of traditional black dance clothing, either spandex or leotards. There were no stage props: it was clean. Lights were used mostly to emphasize the facial expressions of dancers during crucial moments or to highlight a specific person meant to be the focal point of the current act. The venue itself, the Off-Broadway Theatre, also added to the shows’ nitty-gritty, personal vibe. Anyone sitting in the front row will feel incorporated into the show itself, as the dancers at times performing less than a foot away from the front row seats.
The theme of the show in one word? Passion.
During one dance that seemed to depict the story of a troubled, intense love-triangle, the dancers’ rash movements were complimented by emotion-filled panting. With each step closer to one another, the dancers would exhale a sigh of deep feeling, as if their movements alone could not fully express their desires.
During another dance, which seemed to depict obsession, one of the dancers focused her attention singularly on one of the cello players. The cello player sent his message clearly: a shake of his head sent the dancer backstage. Her departure signaled a switch in music tone. The beats became eerie. There was a flash of movement near the cellist’s feet. Goosebumps crawled along my arms as I saw the dancer’s hand creeping slowly towards him, her fingers curling and extending desperately in her effort to reach him. The show’s best moments were those that demonstrated surges of emotion such as this — the moments where the message was overwhelmingly clear and all the audience had to do was sit back and revel in it.
Interaction between the dancers and the musicians occurred frequently throughout the show. If the instrumentalists were not directly involved in the choreography, they would match their facial expressions with the mood of the piece, by looking grieved at a dancer expressing pain or worried at a dancer’s uncontrolled rage. The interaction between both groups helped to give the performance unity. It did not feel like solely a dance show or solely a concert.
The musicians had their own moments to shine apart from the dancers as well. There was one act that featured only instrumentalists, one of whom, the bassist, ran from his usual post on the side of the stage and did a quick dance in the middle of the floor. His moment in the spotlight ended with a pirouette that can only be described as endearing.
But the musician who stole the show was pianist Naomi Woo ’12, whose intense facial expressions and fierce movements as she played reminded me of the incomprehensible feeling of being immersed in something you love doing. She wasn’t playing; she was performing.
The show’s final piece was a testament to the adage, “save the best for last.” As soon as the music began to play, I had the uncontrollable desire to just dance. (A very dangerous feeling when it’s a Wednesday night and you’re within walking distance of Toad’s.) The toe-tapping, head-bobbing beats were the perfect example of SIC InC’s mission to reinvent classical music. It was the kind of music that would make even the shyest of wall-flowers do a little shimmy. The final piece represented what the show was about: the music, the dancing. No flashy gimmicks: just raw performing.