"First Fanfare," "Preludes and Fugues,
"Second Fanfare," "Yowzie"
Twyla Tharp 50th Anniversary Tour
Cal Performances, Zellerbach Hall
Berkeley, CA
October 16, 2015
by Rita Felciano
copyright © Rita Felciano 2015
It's been twelve years since the Bay Area has seen any Twyla Tharp dances. And that was a one-night stand in Marin County. So the prospect of seeing two new Tharp works created considerable excitement. Why that wasn't enough to pack Zellerbach Hall on the first of a three-day engagement remains a mystery, particularly after seeing the evening's major presentation, "Preludes and Fugues" and "Yowzie" which reminded us just why Tharp remains the extraordinary artist that she is. In these works she distilled what she has perfected over her long career: the co-existence of the formal with the casual, the dazzling with the pedestrian, rigor with ease and the classical with the popular. She herself called the first piece a look at "the world as it should be. 'Yowzie' as it is".
Twyla Tharp dancers in Preludes and Fugues"
Photo © Ruven Afanador
The two fanfares, one of them to ear-splitting brass by John Zorn, disrupted expectations for what they led up to. The first one was hilarious and fast-paced, the second's shadow figures rolled by like an old black and white movie. We may be used to Tharp surprising us. But, clearly, she has no intention to stop doing so even in something as "modest" as a fanfare.
Tharp's vaunted musicality was put to good use in the serene, but hiccupping "Preludes" to parts of Bach's magisterial "Well-Tempered Klavier." Often she went against a particular selection; sometimes she anticipated a rhythmic pattern but she also followed it literally, as if to make sure that we heard it. A quasi-lyrical duet could quickly split and evolve into hopping polka steps only to end with a bird lift. A wildly leaping trio of male dancers who tried partnering ended with them jumping at each other. Next up was trio for women which looked like a ballet class until the hips and the heels took over. Rika Okamoto -- the ensemble's superb comedienne -- couldn't get together with her partner (Daniel Baker) because, it looked to me, that she danced one line of the music, he other. Towards the end "Preludes" seemed to shift its tone towards a more formal elegance. A couple turning center stage was joined by whirling individuals who revolved around them like planets. Two upstage couples froze in unison, almost becoming scenery for the momentary protagonists. For the finale a simple circle dance -- performed to the opening prelude -- brought the dancers together into the community we always knew they were.
Santo Loquasto's beige outfits for the men and single color dance skirts for the women could not have been better. Of course, the piece suffered from the lack of live music. I understand the practicality -- in every way -- of taped music. Still, what a shame. Maybe we'll have to wait for Mark Morris to fall in love with this music.
I suspect that Loquasto might have designed "Yowzie's" riotously colored costumes, in addition to suggesting Hans Hofman gone haywire, to confuse audiences about exactly which body part belonged to which dancers in this fast-paced, hi jinks romp through a splendid collection of ragtime and jazz. Tharp didn't take the bait. There were moments when color-blur took over but even here wit and elegance existed side by side. You can be a straphanger, roll off a partner's arm or demand space in a headstand; you could also be dragged along the floor, hoisted like a beam or be carried in an upside down split. With Tharp the trajectories, the accents, the transitions are always crystal clear. Eva Trapp and Eric Otto had their own entanglements upstage, but you couldn't miss them. If for most of the dance you strutted by in floppy black hats and a red floor-length gown, we weren't really taken aback by the legs underneath finally displaying candy-colored tights. Queen of this helter-skelter world was Okamoto who could stare anyone down but also seemed more than a little lost.
Still, some of the humor seemed too slap-stick or Groucho Marx-style for me to want to re-encounter "Yowzie". But the audience adored it, and so did the dancers. Or, at least, they pretended brilliantly.