Presumptions

"Bach: Multiplicity. Forms of Silence and Emptiness"
Compania Nacional de Danza
Eisenhower Theater
The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts
Washington, DC
May 14, 2010

by George Jackson
copyright 2010 by George Jackson

Spain is the nation referred to in the company's name and Johann Sebastian is the Bach of the work's title. It is petty of me to be annoyed by these omissions and by one other: no front curtain covered the stage. The audience on entering encountered a seemingly empty expanse. I took this third omission to be a sin of commission, a signal for the type of dance we were about to see: contemporary. At least no one was warming up or practicing on stage; it was just the stagescape dimly lit - which prompted some anticipation. Two figures appeared for the first scene or Prologue. Both were male and they were immersed in an iconic Glenn Gould recording of "The Goldberg Variations". The  first on stage was dressed in simple black dance wear and acted somewhat wild. The one who followed was an apparition in baroque attire, and seemed initially austere. In their juxtaposition lurked the suggestion of Hamlet's encounter with his father's ghost, even as it became clear that what we had was a dancer-choreographer being haunted by his composer. Nacho Duato, this program's choreographer, was performing the wild or mad or inspired dancer i.e., he was playing himself against a company member standing in for the spirit of J.S. Bach. Anguish, perplexity, and the need to act out were expressed by the dancer. His postures angled, bent and almost broke. His propulsion was tenacious even though spastic. The composer had come to the dancer's rescue as his partner and teacher. He tempered outbursts, lent balance and gently but firmly imposed form on what had been flailings. Had I left the theater after this scene I would have carried away with me the best of Duato.

During the remaining hour or so of Duato's "Bach" there were echoes of the opening. Not many, though, and not enough. One of the strongest aftershocks occurs in the work's second half, as an example of "Silence and Emptiness", when from out of a long file of men, one individual breaks rank and goes mad with no partner or teacher to minister to him.

I didn't count how many of the 21 scenes in "Bach" are short but don't seem so because Duato doesn't develop his movement themes sufficiently. Instead he cartoons them by exaggerating speed, overstating stance and amplifying phrasing. Nor does he avoid cliche notions such as playing on a dancer's body as if it were a string instrument.  Production values, though, are top notch with Brad Fields' lighting, sets by Jaffar Chalabi and Duato, and costumes by Duato and Ismael Aznar.  The company, which numbers just under 30 men and women, does seem very consistently trained to deliver a compromise between ballet and modern dance, a blend of movement  with perhaps a little  yoga added. Smooth as this mix  is and adaptable, it limits virtuosity and nuance. The women suffer from restrictions more than the men. The low center of gravity at which Duato keeps them and the submissive suspensions they proffer come close to being demeaning. The men have strength of posture and force in thrustwork but lack the rapier sharpness needed to make a scene such as the one with swordplay hit its mark. Last and not least on my list of objections is that a musical smorgasbord of so many excerpts does little to illumine Bach.

When Duato's choreography dealt directly with the wonder and pain of creation, I didn't wish for full ballet or real modern movement. His resources sufficed. Moreover, although he's in his 5th decade now, he remains an amazing dancer.