Ballet Hispánico Brings a New Norm

Línea Recta. Photo: Paula Lobo

A number of mid-sized ballet companies exist in the US, and even in New York alone, but Ballet Hispánico stands out for its dedicated focus on the work of Hispanic artists and themes. The program at the Joyce through this weekend is also remarkable as all three choreographers are women, a refreshing change. Each of the three works that comprise the evening are quite distinct in form and content.

Annabelle Lopez Ochoa, who created Línea Recta, was in the news last fall for her intriguing commission for New York City Ballet, Unframed. The dance for Ballet Hispánico takes as a foundation the style and attitude of flamenco. A barefoot Melissa Fernandez wears a red dress with lace bodice and a long, narrow, flounced train that whips and winds around her limbs; four men, bare-chested, wear high-waisted red pants and red socks. Without the heeled, leather soled shoes typical of the genre, the stamping is more attitude than striking force, but there are plenty of gravity-bound deep pliés to convey an earthbound feel. Fernandez dances a duet in which she chafes and strains against the embrace of her partner. She's joined by three women; they all wear shorter versions of the original dress. Eric Vaarzon Morel wrote the original guitar compositions, which move through an array of emotions. The dance captures the general flavor of flamenco in a modern vehicle. 

Con Brazos Abiertos. Photo: Paula Lobo

Michelle Manzanales' Con Brazos Abiertos ("With Open Arms," made with artistic collaboration by Ray Doñes) is a high-spirited take on growing up as a Mexican in Texas. Manzales is the director of BH's school of dance. The costumes, by Diana Ruettiger, feature flattering white halter tops to which were added high-waisted lurex pants, and finally flouncy circle skirts for both the women and men. The score is a playlist of charming ballads in Spanish, spoken word (including a joke about Mexicans taking Spanish and getting Bs), and even a cover of Radiohead's "Creep." In one section, everyone wears large sombreros which hide their faces from the audience, raising the idea of group identity, or the lack of an individual one. It pays homage to Mexican tropes with tongue firmly planted, refreshingly, in cheek. 

3. Catorce Dieciséis. Photo: Paula Lobo

The program ended with 3. Catorce Dieciséis, Spanish for the numerical equivalent of pi. Choreographed by Tania Pérez-Salas, it is a study of kinetic patterns and shapes, danced to a medley, with an emphasis on early music. The style feels similar to a number of post-classical choreographers working today, if perhaps a bit less fluid syntactically. Tossed leg extensions and hyper-extended torsos and arms are used frequently. One hallmark was to creative passages of movement that move perpendicular to the audience, rather than the typical, dramatically effective diagonal or lateral crossing. But it was a taste of global contemporary ballet to cap an all-female creator program remarkable for being, in a sense, all in due course. 

Ballet Hispanico—Casting a Wide Net

Rodney Hamilton, Vanessa Valecillos, Mario Ismael Espinoza in Espiritu Vivo. Photo: Rosalie O'Connor

Ballet Hispanico is a work in constant process—less about defining what comprises Hispanic dance than stretching its definition and possibilities. The company of 16 is made up of seemingly ever fewer dancers of latino descent (standouts are Min-Tzu Li and new member Jamal Rashann Callender), but one or more major elements in the works in repertory relate to artists of Spanish-speaking countries. Performances continue at the Joyce through April 29.

Brooklynite Ronald K. Brown choreographed one of the season's premieres, and the hook seems to be that he uses music by Susana Baca, the dusky-voiced Peruvian singer (who I sadly missed performing live the first week). Brown's movement for Espiritu Vivo significantly tempers the propulsive, gravity-bound African vocabulary he so skillfully deploys on his own company. He has adapted some of the motifs—the pulled-back elbows, spearing leaps, and floating attitude turns—but they're softened and somewhat drained of the feverish energy so contagious in his dances. It's pleasant enough, but it came off as among the most basic of the choreographer's compositions. Still, give Ballet Hispanico credit for pursuing a highly successful contemporary dancemaker outside the geographical/linguistic parameters, even if the connection is but filament-thin.

I reviewed Mad'moiselle (by Annabelle Lopez Ochoa) two years ago, and this year I wasn't as distracted by some of the production elements (like the pink trannie wigs) and could appreciate more the snappy pace of the varied and numerous scenes and musical selections, the shapely and muscular movement, and the high level of skill by the dancers. Again, Li danced the lead role, engrossing in her convincing state of detachment and with her refined, bold lines.

In contrast, the program led off with Pedro Ruiz's Guajira (1999). With its traditional feel and narrative tracing the lives of peasants, it evoked an earlier era in the repertory, concentrating more on folkloric-oriented dances rather than following the more recent free-form conceptual connection to being Hispanic (under Artistic Director Eduardo Vilaro).

What Ballet Hispanico is doing is not easy or safe, but in a way, having a loose, yet defined, premise has allowed the company to expand in many ways while (without getting too literal) retaining a constant voice. This admittedly wooly identity isn't a bad thing amid a world-wide klatch of like-sized ballet companies.

Ballet Hispanico 2.0, 12/3/09

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Ballet Hispanico at the Joyce.

http://www.thirteen.org/sundayarts/blog/ballet/ballet-hispanico-20/775/

Ballet Hispanico recently crossed a milestone this summer when Tina Ramirez, who founded the company in 1970, stepped down as artistic director. The current season at the Joyce Theater (through Dec 13) was put together by Eduardo Vilaro, who took over as AD, and the early signs are promising. The company’s repertory is surprisingly well-rounded in terms of the number of choreographers whose works are included—more than 50. This can mean a lack of artistic focus, but then again, the company isn’t tied down to one voice. It has, in any case, hewed to its mission to be the foremost Hispanic-American dance company around.

The first of three programs this season included four choreographers. An interesting choice was Andrea Miller, a young choreographer with Hispanic lineage, perhaps best known for the time she spent dancing with Ohad Naharin’s Batsheva Company. She now has a company in New York, which presented a strong season last year at the Joyce Soho, and which will make its Joyce Theater debut this spring. Her style includes a thread of Naharin’s “gaga,” plus strands of more standard modern lyricism. The result is an effective, muscular vocabulary that is visually riveting, although Naharin’s influence never strays far from the mind. Miller’s Nací made its world premiere. The women wear flowered dresses, lending an innocence and gaiety; the men in loose earth-toned shirts and pants. Miller emphasizes gravity’s effect on us in folk-like phrases of shuffling and stamping feet; a woman held upside-down lip synchs bravely.