Above: Gierre Godley and Kristin Licata in SWAN LAKE FANTASY; photo by Dylan Baker
Friday March 28, 2014 – Matthew Westerby’s SWAN LAKE FANTASY was premiered tonight at the Hudson Guild Theater. In addition, two recent works choreographed by Matthew Westerby were performed.
LIFELINE is an ensemble work danced to music of Lusine ICL and Jonsi & Alex. An air of mystery pervades the space: moveable spotlights surround the dance floor and are variously pushed about by the dancers to illuminate their colleagues. A solo commencing in silence is danced by Kayla Farrish; as the music seeps into our consciousness, she is joined by Dylan Baker and Gierre Godley. This evolves to a duet for Kayla and Gierre; Gierre’s fluent movement and emotional investment made a hypnotic impression all evening. The other women – Dina-Verley Christophe, Nicole Kadar, Alessandra Larson and Kristin Licata – appear in quiet rites: their blue frocks have a somewhat Isadora Duncan/Grecian tunic look. There’s a lyrical duet passage for Alessandra and Gierre – two dancers I particularly admire – and the community join together as a hymn-like theme rises up. The piece ends as it began, with Kayla alone in the fading light.
DUET X, with music by Ben Frost and Daniel Bjarnason, is handsomely danced by Dylan Baker and Matthew Westerby. These two slender boys are onstage as the spotlights – now focused on high – begin to glow and a gentle fog fills the air. To a misterioso opening theme, they advance towards us, moving in sync with stylized, winged gestures but without physical contact. They dance in tandem or echo one another’s moves. Repeating the opening synchronized phrase, they again advance but now Matthew places his hand on Dylan’s shoulder. A sense of intimacy and trust develops as they fall back onto one another, but this becomes something of a conflict as Matthew tends to manipulate Dylan. They back off in a state of seeming rejection, but the duet ends tenderly with Matthew cradling Dylan in his arms.
During the intermission, pianist Matei Vargas warmed up onstage for the SWAN LAKE FANTASY. Composer Matt Van Brink had this to say about his vision of the Tchaikovsky score: “Making an arrangement of a great piece of music means breaking it apart, inspecting the pieces and from them creating something new again…in the piano world, there is already a unique genre of “arrangement”: the transcription, a flexible term ranging from faithful adaptations to fantastic interpolations. I enjoy solving musical puzzles, so when Matei Varga approached me to create this work for him, I liked the idea of not only making the arrangement, but doing it in such a way that it fits into the canon of piano transcriptions…by presenting the themes and dances in a new, perhaps surprising order, an entirely new story emerges out of the old one.”
Matthew Westerby’s SWAN LAKE FANTASY is just that: a fantasy. There’s no literal re-telling of the story, nor are the roles specifically assigned to individual dancers. In his opening solo – beautifully expressed to the music of the White Swan adagio – the black-clad Matthew might be Odette or he might be the Prince. Dina-Verley Christophe, dancing in a pre-maternal state of grace, assumes the classic floor pose of the Swan Queen as Dylan Baker hovers about her, re-arranging her limbs, shoulders and neck into variations on an iconic theme. The four cygnets – all in black – appear but contrary to expectations they do not dance in linked formations but rather they move freely about the space. We hear themes from the Russian and Hungarian dances as Gierre Godley gives us some expansive moves. The swans and the would-be-brides meet in a confuson of music and movement; a male pas de trois celebrates while the swans kneel en reverence to the pianist.
Suddenly a jazz-inflected passage interferes; the dancers then pair off for a promenade as the music turns grandiose. Alessandra and Gierre dance together and then the Rothbart theme is heard for a pas de six transporting us at last to the final lakeside setting where Alessandra Larson evokes Odette’s despair in a lyrical solo. The ensemble rush in and go thru a series of big lifts before turning upstage to greet the dawn with a final ecstatic salute.
This rush of music and movement may sound a bit random as I’ve described it, but thanks to the persuasive dancing and to Mr. Varga’s effortless dexterity at the keyboard, this fantasy took on a dreamlike quality. And in dreams, anything can happen.
Oberon's Glade 