Flying Colors
Alonzo King's LINES Ballet, Long River High Sky
Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco CA
April 16, 2007
By
ALLAN ULRICH
allanu815@aol.com
VoiceofDance.com 2007
LINES Ballet and the Shaolin Monks of China. Photo by Marty Sohl.
After all his trans-cultural collaborations in the past, it doesn't come as too much of a surprise that Alonzo King has turned to the Chinese Shaolin Monks as partners in his newest full-evening production. Long River High Sky launched LINES Ballet's two-week spring season Friday (Apr. 13) at the sold-out Yerba Buena Center Arts Theater to the kind of ovations that customarily greet the latest rock divo. If this evening-length project, which comes on the eve of LINES25th anniversary, doesn't ultimately reveal any overriding structural unity, it will assuredly prove company founder King's most popular work.
How could it not? The excitement is often irresistible. To the miracles of skewed and internalized classicism that the nine LINES dancers conjure every time they infiltrate the stage, add the pulse-pounding traditional martial arts practices of the monks, a complement of whom have been resident in a Bay Area temple for the past three years.
Add, also, an impressive physical production, the elements of which include the neutral, but alluring costumes by Robert Rosenwasser and Colleen Quen and Axel Morgenthaler's marvelously subtle lighting and video design, which, frankly, is far too integrated to win one of those awards handed out annually by the self-appointed experts. The music, which combines pre-contemporary elements by King, Miguel Frasconi and Hong Wang, with live, traditional segments, performed in the pit by Melody of China, is both lyrical and stirring.
King is not out for mere sensationalism here. Throughout its two parts and 29 brief episodes, Long River High Sky (a title that seems to have been appended at the 11th hour) poses one crucial question: where does structured movement end and dance begin? Can we really distinguish between them? But, then King finds a provocative parallel between the Shaolin self-defense training regimen and his own searching modus operandi in the rehearsal room. The monks pass much of their day practicing Buddhist meditation, in addition to perfecting their kung fu skills. And one has always sensed that much thought and introspection on the part of the LINES dancers precede their public outings. The mere perfection of technique has never been what King is all about.
Long River High Sky recruits Shi ChiangQiang and Shi ChangJun, two traditionally garbed monks in their 20s; Shi YongYao, a Shaolin master in his 70s; and Shi LongHu and Shi HuHu, two of three triplet brothers (the third sibling was injured in rehearsals). The boys are only 10, but they flip across the stage and melt into splits like veteran performers.
So, if the appeal of the piece is shamelessly entertaining, the artistry of King's dancers calls for much commendation. At the beginning, the piece seems to tell us that reflection should precede action. Brett Conway twists around Shi ChangQiang, who remains seated, motionless on the stage. Then, master Shi YongYao leads on the company and his presence seems to propose an almost moral basis to the work. Limbs are isolated, extremities are scrutinized in the King manner. But, under the gaze of the monks, these stylistic traits acquire almost philosophical gravity.
At moments, the dancers and the monks seem to display elements of their individual movement style for our pleasure. The dancers revel in their precarious balances, the monks, feet first and without any apparent preparation, soar through the air. At other junctures, the performers adopt each other's characteristic gestures with varying and often diverting results. And, occasionally, the monks assume their teaching role, leading the dancers in unisons; a boxing ensemble with gyrating fists, is particularly potent.
King is more sparing than usual of ensembles in Long River High Sky, but, when they do develop, they seem to exert an almost moral force. Every small encounter seems to enfold an unspoken message. When John Michael Schert, Laurel Keen and Aesha Ash meld into the trio, the latter constantly finds herself the odd person out and simply forms another trio of her own. In the strength and expressivity of its dancers, LINES has never seemed stronger. If newcomers Ashley Jackson, Keelan Whitmore and Ricardo Zayas, all fine, sleek dancers, don't always call attention to themselves, that's all to their credit.
Still, one feels that King's delight in working with the Shaolin monks has occasionally overwhelmed him; he may be too good a host to his visitors. The rationale for the work's extended structure is elusive. Once in a while, you can have too much of a good thing. Friday's audience would probably have begged to differ.
LINES Ballet will repeat Long River High Sky Wednesday through Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m. at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts Theater, 700 Howard St., San Francisco. (415) 978-2787. www.ybca.org.
