www.annemoore.net

 

 

 

 

 

Dance: Baryshnikov and Laguna

The last warm, sun-filled Sunday in September and I was heading to the underground Harris Theater to see Baryshnikov dance. When I mentioned my indoor plans for the afternoon, my neighbor snickered. I worried, too: would the great male dancer embarrass himself?

2009_09_baryshnikov_laguna1Pas de tout.

I’d seen Baryshnikov dance many times, in the mid-to-late 1970s, in New York. Even then people said he was past his prime, but I remember his astonishing athleticism and grace. It was like watching Michael Jordan play basketball: these were the exemplars of their art, and it was my great good fortune to see them perform, live.

In the first piece, Baryshnikov stepped onto a black stage, dressed in white. He pulled on a deep blue sport coat, then fussed in an imaginary mirror. A recorded voice-over informed the audience that Baryshnikov’s character was preparing to see a woman he’d once loved; he no longer felt anything for her. Not sure the voice-over was needed, but it made the audience laugh.

And then Baryshnikov broke into dance. He didn’t soar, like he once had. But he moved so fluidly, with grace and skill, wit and humor. A master at his craft. If Fred Astaire had danced the ballet, this would be it. “Valse-Fantasie” is simple beauty: a black stage, lively music, a world-class dancer.

“Years Later” paired Baryshnikov with video images of him dancing as a young man, and sometime later, perhaps in his 40’s. (Baryshnikov is 61.) What a charming piece of dance! On stage, he catches sight of his younger self on screen. He dances with earlier versions of himself (!) and keeps up — until the youngest version of him, in grainy black and white, spins at warp speed. With Philip Glass’s Saxophones Nos. 10, 2, 13, 12. Daring, fun, and deeply satisfying.

Not so the two pieces that paired Baryshnikov with Ana Laguna, 54, the Spanish ballerina with whom he is touring.

Choreographed by Mats Ek, “Solo for Two” and “Place” were slapstick and herky-jerky; neither called for their great talents. In both, Laguna was sometimes squatting, seemingly rubbing her ass against the floor. My dog does that.

“Three Solos and a Duet” closed Sunday in Chicago. The dancers continue on to other U.S. venues. Don’t miss them — even for a sunny day.

Also in the blog

“I use Grammarly’s plagiarism detector because no one likes a capy cot!” I don’t especially like reading on a Kindle — click…click…click — but I’d pressed the Amazon wireless “buy” for Meg Wolitzer’s The Interestings: A Novel so that’s how I read it. Click…click…click…all weekend, flying to and from Ottawa, Canada, where I was visiting

(...)

I love uniquely American novels. Yates’ “Revolutionary Road,” Kesey’s “Sometimes a Great Notion,” Franzen’s “Freedom.”  Firmly grounded in time and place, its characters define the time as they’re shaped by the place. Newly published, Chad Harbach’s “The Art of Fielding” could only take place in America. Baseball, a small town, a private college and its

(...)

At our summer place in Quebec, I can read for hours without interruption. Recently there, I inhaled A Laodicean by Thomas Hardy, an author I read repeatedly. This one is not like his others because its heroine is not undone by men (i.e., Tess of the d’Urbervilles.) Paula Power, the only daughter of a railroad magnate,

(...)