I once had a friend who was a big modern dance fan. I mentioned a few names, and while she adored Merce Cunningham and Martha Graham, she practically wrinkled her nose at Twyla Tharp, “That’s not modern dance, that’s pop dance!”
Maybe, but the fact is, Twyla Tharp has been drawing in audiences for over 50 years. Her pieces that often mix modern dance with classical ballet are catnip to dance aficionados. And so it was with her two week residency at the Joyce Theater. I went to the first night and it was packed.
The opening piece immediately told you why. Ocean’s Motion is a 1975 piece set to the timeless, catchy songs of Chuck Berry. Five dancers look like high school jocks and cheerleaders, and they dance to the rock-n-roll with steps that remind one of the 50s dance crazes. The twist, the bop, the bunny hop, the stroll. These vintage dances are all based on a few basic moves. Hips swivel, feet shuffle, arms swing. It was cheerful and nostalgic, a bit like the movie American Graffiti in a modern dance package.
Ocean’s Motion is not as impactful as the other Tharp pop-tributes like Deuce Coupe or Nine Sinatra Songs. There’s very little contrast between the different songs. But it’s fun, light and happy.
The mood took a turn with Brel, set to songs of French singer Jacques Brel. This was a world premiere. Herman Cornejo was dressed in black pants and shirt, and danced a long solo that veered between contemplative and swaggering. Sometimes he “listened” to applause, other times he seemed to say, “Hey, I’m Herman Cornejo, so I’m going to jump a manège of coupé jetés.”
The audience loved it. I loved it. However, there was a nagging feeling/wondering. Would a dancer less obscenely charismatic than Cornejo make this solo work? Were we cheering because it’s Herman, or because of the steps? Cornejo is alternating this solo with NYCB principal Daniel Ulbricht. I might go back just to catch another interpretation.
The evening ended with The Ballet Master, another world premiere. The premise of the dance was simple. A ballet master (John Selya) and his assistant (Daniel Ulbricht) are frustrated at their crew of cantankerous dancers. The arguments and discord is represented in the first part of the dance by having the dancers argue to the cacophonous vocals of Simeon ten Holt. “Bi Ba Bo” sounded like the “blah blah blah” of the Peanuts cartoon adults.
Suddenly the music and mood changes. Ballet Master and Assistant are all of a sudden Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, and the music is now Vivaldi. A veiled ballerina (Cassandra Trenary) bourrées onstage. It’s a clever parody of the “dream sequences” of so many classical ballets.
Trenary doesn’t stay the aloof ballerina. Slowly, she and the other dancers transform themselves from ballerina dream visions to, well, a Tharp dancer. Punchy, energetic, athletic. Pointe shoes get switched out for sneakers, tutus for gold shorts. “Sancho” (Daniel Ulbricht) abandons “Don Quixote” and starts to dance with Trenary. Trenary and Ulbricht are two dancers who are extraordinarily well-matched physically, and had amazing chemistry. They are the pairing I didn’t know we needed until they danced together.
The whole dance was so joyous and fun. It mixed all of Tharp’s favorite themes (ballet vs. modern, classical music vs. pop, sneakers vs. pointe shoes) in a clever, original package. Tharp herself came onstage to raucous applause. She might be “pop dance”, but audiences love it.
