~ Author: Oberon
Sunday December 14th, 2025 matinee – Luckily, I ran into my long-time dance-friend Takehiro Ueyama at a Paul Taylor performance earlier this season; he told me he was crafting a new piece for the Juilliard Dance Division’s New Dances series, so the next day I picked up a ticket and this afternoon I watched four distinctive danceworks, set to a wide range of musical scores. All four pieces were having their world premieres in this series of shows.
During my first years of living in New York City, I went to performances at Juilliard countless times. I’d made friends with several young singers in the voice division; many of them went on to very successful careers.
But I hadn’t been to a Juilliard event in a long time, and I’m very glad I was there today. I’d forgotten what a pleasant venue the Peter Jay Sharp Theatre is; I should go there more often….though it has one drawback for review writing: like The Joyce, the deep darkness during shows makes note-taking an unpleasant chore.
Gianna Reisen, a choreographer and movement director who has choreographed for New York City Ballet, Los Angeles Dance Project, School of American Ballet, and Carolina Ballet, today offered Passenger, for which she drew upon music from Einstein on the Beach by Philip Glass. Two dozen dancers from the class of 2029 took the stage, whilst a chorus of young singers appeared in the pit, along with violinist Benjamin Seah, and organist Matthew Schultheis.
Sounds of the organ set a mood: the dancers are seated in a circle on the floor, with one lone man standing. The ‘counting chorus’ from the pit gives a curiously appealing rhythmic undercurrent. The dance has a ritualistic feel – which I love – and stylized moves and gestures, given in-sync, create a sense of community. The hypnotic music gives the dancers a basis for their moves, with the large ensemble moments mixed in with break-away solos, duos, and trios.
In a mood shift. Mr. Seah’s violin slithers up and down scale passages; the movement becomes more agitated, and various dancers hold our attention in fleeting solos. A leaping and bouncing ensemble gives way to stillness. Throughout the afternoon, the large audience was wonderfully attentive; after each dancework, students in the crowd shouted approval for their classmates who were either dancing or making music…such a congenial atmosphere.
Takehiro Ueyama, a Juilliard alum, former Paul Taylor dancer, and founder of TAKE Dance, has created a dreamlike dancework – The wind, the sea, and the sky – to the adagio assai from Maurice Ravel’s piano concerto in G-major, performed today in a transcription for two pianos by Lucien Garban. The excellent pianists were Dovie Lepore-Currin and Isaac Parlin, and the twelve dancers were from the Class of 2028. With his characteristic thoughtfulness, Take dedicated the piece to the memory of his mentor, Kazuko Hirabayashi, a Juilliard alumna (1962) and faculty member from 1968-2011. Read about this fascinating woman here.
The opening section of Take’s work is performed to the heavy ticking rhythm of an invisible clock. A young man is seated at a table, spotlit in a stageful of fog. He seems to be pondering some plan. He is joined by a female accomplice; their duet takes place on, around, or under the table. The corps of dancers now come forward in silence, the light turns briefly hellish as they sway and fall.
The piano music commences, and the table seems cage-like. The principal couple and the corps seem to be unfolding some mystical drama as blinding lights pierce the heavy fog. The music, now pensive, finds couples joining in movement patterns; as things intensify, the dancers rush about in a circle. At last, a dreamy mood is established, over which darkness finally falls.
Following an over-long intermission. My’Kal Stromile, a 2018 Juilliard graduate who has choreographed for Opera National de Paris and Boston Ballet, presented dancers from the Class of 2027 in kit-of-parts with the Dolphins Quartet playing Paganini’s Variations on 24 Caprices for Solo Violin in their own arrangement.
The musicians were upstage, silhouetted behind a scrim, and their delightful playing was a big hit with the crowd. A quartet of red-clad dancers dance up a storm – beautiful movers all – and, to the unlikely sound of a cowbell playing a funky beat, more dancers join. Fantastic fiddling leads into a dreamier passage, in which the violin alternates between plucking and sighing. A stylized men’s trio features some slo-mo posing; the music accelerates, then slows for a pas de deux to a caressive theme which morphs into a cello solo. As the lights begin to fade, the cellist’s face is illuminated…a perfect touch. The dancers were vociferously applauded, and screams were unleashed as the musicians came forward. Such a joy-filled atmosphere.
The closing work, Augmented: MAM 1 from Studio Wayne McGregor, was finely choreographed by Jessica Wright, and excitingly danced by members of the Class of 2026. The music (mostly just noise) was tedious – I thought this type of dancework went out years ago, but apparently not. One passage, a duet to electronic music, was genuinely captivating. The audience gave the piece a tumultuous ovation.
Deserving of a special bravo this afternoon was lighting designer Clifton Taylor. And I was ever-so-glad to see Linda Gelinas – who I saw dancing many times at The Metropolitan Opera – listed as Faculty Rehearsal Director for Take’s piece. His rehearsal assistant was my longtime friend Kristen Bell, one of Take Dance’s stellar movers and shapers.
~ Oberon
Oberon's Glade 