Exploring Alvin Ailey’s Countercultural Dance Theater
I wanted to be celebrating Pi Day. With a pepperoni pizza on my couch in the quiet of my apartment.
I wanted to be celebrating Pi Day, but instead I’m strolling into Zellerbach Hall for my second Cal Performances event, Alvin Ailey’s American Dance Theater. While the first was confusing and musically way over my head, this one proved to be stimulating and entertaining. To be clear, I mean no disrespect to Steve Reich, but his music was more complex than the untrained ear (mine) could understand upon first listen.
While I very much enjoyed the performance, I didn’t walk in thinking that I would. So, as I am wont to do, I took notes of my experience so that I could turn it into something entertaining for myself later (shameless plug: see Voir Dire for previous examples).
But as I came to find out, Alvin Ailey’s American Dance Theater was actually a really powerful performance of counterculture.
Through and through, every element seemed to push back at the classical ballet.
Upon arriving at this realization, and still being in possession of my observation notes, I am instead pleased to present a live review of Alvin Ailey’s American Dance Theater. Time stamps are sporadic because I only checked at intermissions and/or when I remembered.
Anyway, here it goes:
7:34 p.m.
Arrival. With time to spare too! Wow, student of the year.
My seat is on the balcony level, which is a nicer name for the nosebleeds. Hey, I don’t mind. I didn’t pay for this ticket, so I’ll sit wherever they put me.
My seat is pretty high up, but it offers a killer view of the entire stage. I’m squarely in the middle of the auditorium with an unobstructed view. Can’t complain.
8:00 p.m.
Almost showtime. Looks pretty close to a full house and the audience is buzzing as it does when there’s a bar on the mezzanine level and the patrons arrived early enough to take full advantage.
Classic theater warning light dim.
It’s. About. To go. Down. (Kevin Hart voice)
8:38 p.m.
First intermission. As in, there are multiple, apparently. But I’m not itching to leave, which is a bit of an interesting twist.
This is not the stuffy affair that I expected. The music is powerful with a strong beat, which makes a huge difference.
It’s interesting how this first piece, Deep, acted as a countercultural foil to the classical ballet while also maintaining some familiar elements.
Familiar: There is something so satisfying about a group of people moving in perfect concert. Every kick of the leg, flourish of the hand and toss of the head is perfectly orchestrated and precisely choreographed. My Type-A perfectionist side takes a sick amount of satisfaction in this.
Countercultural: Most obviously, the music. Heavy, beat-driven and paired with powerful lyrics, this was not the stringed instrumental that I was expecting. The next thing I noticed was the dancers themselves. In addition to being almost entirely people of color — not something you see in classical ballet — they were clad in loose black tops and moved freely and fluidly — a far cry from the leotards and tense exactitude of ballet recitals.
The biggest indicator that I’m enjoying the performance is that when the curtain came down and the dancers bowed to the audience, 1. I did not immediately leave, and 2. I felt disappointed that the performance might be over already.
9:37 p.m.
Second intermission.
This one, Walking Mad, was interesting. It started with an undeniably fun number that engaged most of the cast. Where the first act was ethereal and somber, this one was bursting with color and the hectic nature of dance numbers in musicals and stage productions.
While vastly different from the first, this piece again counters the expectation of a well-behaved, typical dance production.
The music was upbeat with horn instruments and an infectiously catchy beat, matched with looser (and at times, comedic) choreography and flowy costuming. As important as the music was, the silence was even more so. At one point the jovial music cut off abruptly, causing the audience to think there was a technical issue when in fact it was simply part of the show. Even this, resisting the typical flow of a performance, proved to be a countercultural act.
Again, the illumination of the stage and dancers is very telling in the mood and tone of the piece. The golden-orange is for more somber pieces, while the blues and pinks are more light-hearted.
Walking Mad’s use of physical props, most notably the wall unit, changed the composition of the stage and allowed dancers to change clothes and enter/exit from different places. It also skewed the vertical and horizontal axes and facilitated shadow play.
All of these elements were a reaction against the “classical”, the “conventional”, the “expected” that has come to characterize the classical ballet.
10:06 p.m.
This isn’t an intermission, but a “pause” per the playbill.
Ella was a touching nod to Ella Fitzgerald. Again, the lighting plays a huge part in evoking certain emotions and setting the scene and mood.
The tribute was backed by Fitzgerald’s distinctive “scat singing”, which made it at times uncomfortable to listen to and unpleasing to the ear. This willingness to play unconventional, dissonant music again harkened to the performance’s roots in counterculture.
The oft-discordant sounds were matched by the dancing duo’s kinetic, percussive performance. I’m not sure if it’s because those two did more cardio in that brief performance than I have in the last nine months, or because of the sheer power and conviction with which they moved, but Ella took my breath away.
10:29 p.m.
After eight bows from the dancers (and a wholly unsurprising ~spontaneous~, but nevertheless enjoyable, encore performance), the curtain finally drops and the house lights come up.
Parting Thoughts:
Alvin Ailey’s American Dance Theater was much more entertaining than I expected.
Far from the stuffy affair I dreaded, this performance challenged convention at every place imaginable, from the bodies shown, to the music played, to the choreography danced and the audience targeted.
But at the same time, as with all countercultural movements, it also maintained the conventional structure of a classical, stage dance performance. It followed enough that the audience could recognize it as an art form requiring high levels of precision and expertise, while also rebelling against those very notions.
The dancers have wholly divorced themselves of the stiff, white, conventional narrative of traditional ballet, while managing to distill all the essential parts of such performances into a stage production that is completely their own.
Capturing this dichotomy, dwelling in this space that’s very clearly not one nor the other, is an art form in itself and one that Alvin Ailey’s American Dance Theater has perfected.
Fin.
