Although the theatre was packed, and the show sold out, our Friday night excursion to the ICA for the Alonzo King Lines Ballet was an energizing and evocative experience. The strikingly unique and surreal performance was the perfect remedy for the monotony of college parties. The welcoming spirit from the much older attendees was refreshing, who seemed impressed that we’d made the effort to try something different. We felt proud to take our seats among the seasoned crowd.
We were immediately mesmerized when the glowing figures took over the empty stage and moved their chiseled, statuesque bodies with incredible vigor. The focus was just movement and light. In a variety of groups, the ten dancers in the company thrust into unexpected poses, even climbing over one another and rolling on the floor.
As their muscles twist and distorted in the dramatic lighting, the dancers transcended traditional notions of grace and beauty. The cast exhibited a sense of total commitment to their craft, fused through their linked arms and flowing out into the audience. It seemed as though Henri Matisse’s painting The Dance had come to life when the dancers pulled and dragged each other across the stage.
In the first act, the heavy African drum beats and shamanistic chanting that accompanied the precise choreography created a chaotic, ritualistic mood. The following act contained similar gestures and moves, however the audio, reminiscent of gothic hymns, serenely transformed the performance. This spiritual presence unified the performance and ignited conversation about the nature of religious ceremonies.
Occasionally, the music would stop short and the dancers’ heavy breath was the only sound that filled the auditorium. This effect reminded viewers that despite the supernatural appearance of the dancers, they are still human.
The intense concentration of the audience was only interrupted once, when two male dancers walked on stage in shimmering silver tutus, eliciting laughter from several audience members. Gender stereotypes were challenged further when two male dancers were paired in a sensuous routine.
Although the location of the ballet—a contemporary art museum was initially surprising, after the performance it became clear that the experimental institution was a more appropriate venue than the Boston Opera House. This contemporary dance company from San Francisco challenged our preconceived ideas about ballet, the limitations of the human body, and definitely made us more aware of the many different, worthwhile ways to spend a Friday night in Boston.
After witnessing the human body be pushed to it physical boundaries, it felt a little pathetic that the only way to show appreciation for the performance was by slapping two hands together.
(Credits: Written with my companion to the ballet, Amanda James)
