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There are few reasons to watch a professional ballet class. Say you're 8 years old and dying to find a dance class, or you're 18 years old and stalking an aspiring ballerina or writing a paper on the physics of rotating on the tip of one toe. But there is no reason to begin a performance with a simulated dance class, as Oregon Ballet Theater's current five-part show, Moving Signatures, does. The remarkably lame beginning hobbles on with a faux rehearsal of the pas de deux from the company's Degas. Even more vapid than the classroom session are the deliberately vague looks on the dancer's faces as they pretend to rehearse. It almost seems like they're going to fake a horrible fall as a grotesquely cartoonish reality check. Now, clear your mind and try to erase the preceding paragraph from your consciousness. In a stunning moment of extreme juxtaposition, the choking blandness of Act I is redeemed in just five minutes with Speak, an awesome showdown choreographed by the Houston Ballet's Trey McIntyre. Set to a rap song by the Bloodhound Gang, Speak combines classical dance and hip-hop in a manner that glorifies both and condescends to neither. Unlike many other artists attempting hip-hop, McIntyre exploits the fluidity and extension of his dancers, getting them to perform tougher, not prettier, moves. Last month's version of the show, at Portland Community College, starred tiny teen Vanessa Thiessen; she bounced around like a slinky dipped in Crisco, showing enough midriff to prove she's a ballerina and enough sass to prove she could beat the shit out of James Canfield. After Speak, the show again diverges wildly with two blatantly emotive pieces. Precise, masterfully technical dancing allows Duke University's Tyler Walters to pull off an obsessive ménage à trois. Set to Erkki-Sven Tuur's "Insula Deserta" and based on Sartre's No Exit, Walters' untitled piece could turn soap-operatic with lesser dancers. Quiet Stories also courts melodrama. Three women wearing gorgeous Donna Karan-esque frocks quietly roam the stage, dancing their personal musings. Sparse movement and old-world music briefly remind one of an Oil of Olay commercial (generations of beautiful women weathering life with grace). Once you begin to absorb the intuitive movements, Quiet Stories transforms itself into a butterfly; it's Moving Signatures' most resonant segment. Sanctuary, a microcosm of the entire evening, appropriately closes the show. Melissa St. Clair's first work for OBT, Sanctuary gets off to a groggy start, receives a startling Duke Ellington injection and ends up showgirl snazzy; top hats and canes would not be inappropriate. The unexpected but joyful choreography follows Keith Jarrett's symphonic jazz score "Arbour Zena" like an exuberant home movie. St. Clair, who teaches at Jefferson High School, incorporates her yoga expertise into the theme of "seeking personal sanctuary in a modern world." Don't worry about getting to Moving Signatures a few minutes late, but definitely get there. OBT's well-conceived plan--forgoing props and taking a skeleton cast (about 10 dancers) on the road to a variety of intimate venues--allows even a novice audience the chance to be dazzled by a wide variety of straight dancing close up. Gorgeous, classy costumes (think Michelle Kwan, not Tara Lipinski) and a few mood lights provide ample embellishment. |
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