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BY CATHERINE THOMAS
Apollo
and Hyacinth
The artistry of dancers Daniel Kirk and Eric Skinner is reminiscent of time-lapse films of plant growth, in which shoots twist into eruptions of tendrils and leaves, finally bursting into bloom. The two have deep roots in classical ballet but are moved by that irresistible organic impulse that knows it has to stretch in order to thrive. Cross-fertilizing their talents, they have brought to fruition a conceptually and kinesthetically original work that liberates traditional ballet through the mythic love story of the sun god Apollo and a dancing young Spartan prince, Hyacinth. Apollo and Hyacinth combines the explosive energy of both dancers in a powerful original work. No strangers to boundary-breaking performance, Kirk and Skinner, both former members of Oregon Ballet Theater and the Los Angeles Chamber Ballet, cite as their latest influences the contemporary choreography of Gregg Bielemeyer and the group BodyVox. Kirk has also recently performed with the Joffrey Ballet. Even in the pose of recline that begins his solo, Kirk reveals years of dedication and training. He gives his Apollo a majestic, commanding presence befitting a god, stretching peak movements with his full attention. The strength of his movements is fluid and focused, like the languid burn of Apollo's elegantly rendered sun. Like a rubber band, Kirk harnesses slow, powerful motion, holding his poses taut and releasing them in vigorous bursts of kinetic energy. The excitement on his face leads his audience into the myth. Enter Skinner, who erupts into his solo with exuberance and an angel's smile, his movements vigorous and unrestrained. Skinner flirts with his dance in saucy twists incorporated into his mid-air movements; he's an effervescent Hyacinth whose energy is as spontaneous as it is vivid. The combined presence of Kirk and Skinner onstage is dramatic from the outset. Apollo's magnetic gaze and strong, commanding motion build the expectation of their encounter, while Skinner's Hyacinth continues his dance, oblivious to the seduction he is weaving. As Kirk closes the gap, the pair's awareness of each other transcends space; the two touch intimately without body contact. Their interaction is a subtle, seductive play of strength and wit. The originality of the choreography is most obvious in their new steps for a nontraditional pas de deux for two males; the movements are exquisitely timed to build dramatic anticipation of their physical connection. From a slow, luxurious lift, Kirk dangles Skinner from the crook of one arm. Skinner unfolds his force next in a trade of strength, lifting and holding the larger Kirk with a seemingly effortless economy. Their sense of dramatic timing is impressive; the subtle eroticism of their movements teases full anticipation of their heart-stopping kiss. The pas de deux ends in gut-wrenching tenderness as Apollo leaves for the night, and the ballet follows the myth to its tragic conclusion. Kirk and Skinner have collaborated in this enterprise with conductor David York, who composed the original score for string orchestra and harp. Kirk describes the project as "one of the most well-made collaborations I've been part of." York's intuitive music mirrors the energy and emotion of the choreography; it plays to the dancers' strengths and the singular personalities of their characters, creating a rich landscape of classic, romantic and dramatic moods. In Greek mythology, the gods make sport of mortals, but Kirk and Skinner have transcended mere play and eroticism to make their version an intimate love story, fitting for two dancers with an eight-year creative and personal partnership. In Kirk's words, their interpretation of the classic myth "is a relationship of trading strengths, depicted with no literal passage of time. It's a relationship that evolved beyond the first night."
originally published August 19, 1998 |
