Night of Hunter

Photo: Emily Hunter in Bruce Wood's Surrender

Texas Dance Theatre's third season begins on a pensive note, thanks to Emily Hunter.
by Margaret Putnam
published Tuesday, November 16, 2010

The nippy air must have brought a thoughtful mood to Texas Dance Theatre at the Scott Theatre on Saturday night. Pensive and subdued works dominated in the "Fall Mixed Rep" program, sandwiched in by the neo-classic New World and an exuberant Let’s Fall in Love.

Wil McKnight’s New World was neatly structured in the Balanchine mode, with the much of the emotional power provided by Philip Glass’ throbbing, pulsating score, which threatened at times to overpower the dance. But the corps fairly flew by, zipping in and out from the wings like four winged zephyrs. The lead coupl,e Caradee Cline and Jacob Sebastian, stretched out moments of calm with elegantly angled arabesques and lifts, interspersed by Cline flinging herself into her partner’s arms. For someone only 16, Sebastian danced with polish and poise, as well as being an attentive partner.

But Saturday was dancer and choreographer Emily Hunter’s night to shine. She created two new works—the solemn Haven and introspective Self/Imposed—and got a great solo in Bruce Wood’s new Surrender.

Set to the music of Samuel Barber, Haven features three women who seem embarked on a journey of unknown destination. A safe haven is likely the goal. In slow, measured steps and long pauses, they crisscross the stage, always tender and attentive to one another. t the end, they part ways, walking calmly out of sight.

More intense and inventive, Self/Imposed begins with Josie Baldree in a simple patterned dress and dark tights, stretched out on the floor. Once up, she starts and stops, leaning down, tilting her head in a look of curiosity while balanced on pointe. That folding and unfolding continues until she returns to her initial destination.

Wood must have been inspired by the great solo artist Margie Gillis—whom he featured in his own show some 10 years ago and who performed for TITAS in 1997—when he created Surrender. It was pure Margie, from the autumn leaves strewn on the ground, the slumped-over figure enveloped in long black dress, the hair tossing, the slamming of her body to the ground and finally, the forceful downward yank on one arm as her eyes glower. Simple and effective, it made the point that this is a woman distraught yet fearless. The only thing missing was the mane of Gillis’s waist-lengthen red hair to toss about.

Much the best work on the program, Surrender captured your attention in a short but powerful drama.

It is impossible not to think of Balanchine’s Who Cares? when the songs include wonderful tunes from the 1920s and ’30s. But instead of drawing on Gershwin, as did Balanchine, McKnight uses the music of Cole Porter and lesser figures in Let’s Fall in Love. But except for the daring Natalie Bracken, there is little of the cheeky, daredevil freedom of Who Cares? and the result is a pleasant but unremarkable piece.

◊ Margaret Putnam has been writing about dance since 1980, with works published by D Magazine, The Dallas Observer, The Dallas Times Herald, The Dallas Morning News, The New York Times, Playbill, Stagebill and Dance Magazine.