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Smuin Ballet
Joyce Theater
New York, NY
August 15, 2006

by Susan Reiter
copyright ©2006 by Susan Reiter

For a moment, it seemed that there was some mistake and it must be Eliot Feld’s company, not Michael Smuin’s, that was performing at the Joyce. For the opening work, “Bluegrass/Slyde,” the curtain rose on a red set that looked like an invitation for dancers to clamber, climb and otherwise perform task-oriented physical feats: anchored at both sides, it featured a wide horizontal segment from which hung three poles, suspended just above the floor. At the bottom of each was a disc-shaped little platform.
 
Before anyone danced, we were treated to a mini-documentary about musicians Edgar Meyer (bass) and Bela Fleck (banjo) — showing them on the road, playing at an outdoor performance, talking about what they do. We were informed that their contemporary spin on a traditional style sounds “as if bluegrass had gone to Juilliard.” It felt odd and unnecessary, and went on so long that it began to feel like an infomercial.

The duo’s music clearly inspired Smuin and is the springboard for the animated, if over-extended, piece. Their sound is lively, drawing on the bluegrass tradition, although much of the time we seem to be hearing a violin rather than a banjo. The dancers, in black jumpsuits and jazz shoes, performed with a casual, sporty air as Smuin’s eight sections sent through bits of gymnastics, lots of well-timed spinning, with bodies cantilevered out horizontally, around the poles. He seemed to have gotten fascinated with the possibilities, such as two people spinning at different levels. At times, when the women were doing the spinning and men stood back to watch, this activity took on suggestions of a  slightly (and certainly unintendedly) lurid tone.
 
But clearly that was not intended. Everything was good-natured and playful, and Smuin certainly knows how to keep the stage space active and interesting, as up to thirteen dancers assembled in some sections. He threw in a tap sextet for no apparent reason. The ladies got their turn to shine, and then the men took over in a number that brought out Smuin’s Broadway side. The inevitable penultimate duet section featured twinkling stars on a inky-dark cyclorama, but even with Celia Fushille-Burke’ hair loosened, there was not much heat in this generic romantic encounter. Everyone returned for the big finale, efficient and cheery — if a bit overdue.
 
In “Symphony of Psalms,” to the Stravinsky score, earnestness was awkwardly imposed on movement that often included bits recognizable from the first dance. This was the obligatory serious, more introspective piece, with allusions to spirituality and concerns beyond the more mundane. The very pale blue, filmy costumes were attractive, and some of the luminously sculptural movement and fluid patterns made a more lasting impact, but a truly vital connection to the music did not come across.
 
Closing the program was “Fly Me to the Moon,” the only work of the three that Smuin’s troupe (which has become an annual August fixture at the Joyce) had presented previously in New York. It could have been called “Nine Other Sinatra Songs,” but its intentions, and impact, were nothing like Twyla Tharp’s 1982 exploration of Sinatra. She led us deep inside the personality quirks and dynamics of seven individual couples. Smuin offers character sketches, good-natured charm, and a dash of Broadway razzmatazz.
 
Mentioning Broadway in connection with Smuin is not to denigrate. The best work of his I’ve seen was his choreography for the exceptional 1987 Broadway revival of Cole Porter’s “Anything Goes,” and his temperament and talent clearly fit well with a certain mode of Broadway musical entertainment.  “Fly Me to the Moon” radiates a sense of a choreographer being himself, doing what he’s comfortable doing, rather than trying to fill a certain program slot or push himself outside his comfort zone.
 
The song  choices veer toward popular standards, evoking the 30s and 40s — “The Way You Look Tonight” (Jerome Kern), ‘The Lady is a Tramp” (Richard Rodgers), “Moonlight Serenade” (Glenn Miller). The women are in pastel prom dresses, the men dapper in grey pants, matching pastel vests a boaters with pastel trim. They perform with pleasing naturalness, without any forced let-us-entertain-you effort. A highlight was the title number, a showcase for the buoyant ease and winning persona of Ikolo Griffin, a classical stylist who made an impact while with Dance Theater of Harlem. Smuin found a winningly humorous approach to “I Won’t Dance;" Aaron Thayer remained immobile as frisky Robin Cornwell danced herself into a tizzy, then allowed himself to cut loose during the final moments.
 
The dancers were brimming with charm, if short on individuality. But as an ensemble, they made this nine-part suite feel coherent and sincere, and certainly it accomplished the mission of sending the audience home quite happy.

Photos (from top):
Ethan White, Easton Smith & James Strong in "Bluegrass/Slyde." Photo: Tom Hauck.
Easton Smith & Robin Cornwell in "Symphony of Psalms." Photo: Tom Hauck.

Volume 4, No. 32
September 11, 2006
copyright ©2006 Susan Reiter
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