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Last night Ballet West opened it’s fifth installment of “Innovations,” a program where Ballet West dancers present new choreography alongside one established artist. Principal Artist Michael Bearden, Artist Aiden DeYoung, Soloist Easton Smith and Demi-Soloist Emily Adams showcased their choreographic work alongside a revival of Susan Shields’ “Grand Synthesis.” As a whole I agree with Director Adam Sklute’s assessment that the evening was diverse and creative. “Innovations” expressed a range of artistic interests from traditional narrative ballet to the cool of more contemporary choreographers; at it’s best the show was innovative, as the title promised and all pieces offered an exploration of the effort it takes to craft a ballet.

Michael Bearden’s “Descent” handled a tragic, historical romance which wound its own path around recognizable narrative ballet traditions. It was freeing to follow a story without expected full length features of a Grand Pas or large Corps but the path was not without difficulty. The use of props was sometimes distracting and certain plot elements, namely the Russian revolution, were dealt with too briefly and in ways too comical or melodramatic for the overall tone. Bearden should be applauded for continuing to work on the project since 2010; when you imagine that many ballet stories have been performed endlessly it’s clear that with more growth Bearden’s concluding dance of the dead could become beloved and fixed as other wicked ballet fixtures like the Willies.

Easton Smith dealt with narrative more abstractly in his premiere of “With You”.  The opening scene was evocative with dramatic lights warning of looming tragedy. The dancing that followed might have been linked in the eyes of the choreographer — emotions spilling out of a tragedy resulting in lush partnering — but the resonance of the dancing didn’t match the strength of the opening imagery. In dancing what we feel matters, but in choreography it’s creating the realm for the audience that matters, not just what the dancers are sensing. Much like Bearden’s work the kudos are for diving right into the process and taking risks. I’ll be interested to his how his aesthetic evolves with new projects.

If Michael and Easton posed choreographic problems for which they strive, as young artists, to find solutions, Aiden DeYoung and Emily Adams demonstrated the importance of new voices in the more codified forms of ballet. Aiden’s work “Eenvoudig,” and Emily’s “Forces at Play” were remarkably fresh and complex. “Forces at Play,” benefited from being the only piece to feature live music. Many of the dancers, specifically Tom Mattingly, were able to dance from within the score and highlight the quick, light sections that mark the dance. While it seems there is more to address within the staging, the choreography had come a long way from its preview in the fall and I found the duets among the men were truly unique.

While Aiden’s preview of “Eenvoudig” last fall seemed too derivative of William Forsythe, this revised version moved beyond the shock of ballerinas in black socks and into new territory. Using a choppy selection of music and approaching movement directly and succinctly the choreography offered a sampler of non-narrative vignettes. Aiden seemed apt at choosing dancers for each section, particularly a solo in which Katie Critchlow walked past the wings smacking each one with an open palm. To think of how many dances I’ve watched, or how many times I myself have tried not to touch a wing, and then to see her hand purposefully erase what I thought I knew was important or what I should expect was  magical. This was just one taste in which Aiden explored unconventional choices. Some were obvious (exposing a back wall and lights) and others less so, like the subtle incorporation of alternative movement styles.

The magic continued to the last piece of the evening with “Grand Synthesis” as a reminder that longevity is what makes any choreographic career worthwhile. Susan Shields’ ability to move bodies through space with ease created complicated and surprising patterning from which joyful dancing emerged at every turn. While she could have used a more contemporary look at costuming from her younger counterparts it was a great way to end the evening.

“Innovations” continues at the Rose today at 7:30 and next week (Weds-Sat).

Ashley Anderson runs loveDANCEmore community events as part of her 501c3 “ashley anderson dances” she regularly choreographs and teaches in SLC.

As much as I ever have been, I was wowed by the six dancers who currently comprise Ririe Woodbury during the opening night of Iridescence (running through Saturday at the Rose). That’s saying something, given that I’ve been watching this group on and off since I was a little kid. Throughout, I found myself thinking a lot about how the company has shifted over the years and what has remained the same.
Iridescence opened with Duet by Bill T. Jones. It’s clearly a dance made not by the Tony award-winner we’re used to seeing on PBS, but a younger man, with different questions on his mind. Jones here is not dealing with anything overtly political as in much of his other work. At first the exploration seems very formal, the space is cut by masking tape that divides the floor into a grid. Jo Blake moves with a clear coolness I’ve never seem him employ. He’s isolating different body parts. But not with the fake, blank sense of “neutrality” some of us might associate with (a parody of) postmodern dance. Instead there’s a true sense of play, like he’s trying all the ways he knows to move each piece and as if for the first time. Tara McArthur walks in on the middle of all of this with a casualness that seems at once to complicate and explain everything Jo has done. There is a kind of accord with what at first glance might seem an arbitrary score. It set to “folk” songs from Madagascar, Iran and the Ivory Coast. This is coexistence, but not in the Cage/Cunningham sense. There’s an awareness of the otherness in this music within an American Modern Dance setting. In general, there’s a sense of felt space, real and metaphorical. There’s play between the steps and subtle humor as this man and woman feel each other while the choreography repeats itself, seeming to be rewritten on the spot to be more clever with each try. (Brad Beakes and Bashaun Williams will dance Duet on Friday. Elizabeth Kelly-Wilberg and Alex Bradshaw dance it Saturday.)
   Duet was unique within the evening in that it showcased individuality in the performers. All of the dances that followed (with the exception of one) included the entire company. West and Those in the Desert by Artistic Director Charlotte Boye-Christensen, sought to evoke places: the American West and the Middle East respectively. Both works featured her trademark use of balletic lines breaking and remaking themselves in rapid succession, pulling the dancers through long limbed partnering that seems directed by some unseen masochistic order. Those in the Desert was set to instrumental music by Ibrahim Maalouf which allowed the formalities and rigor of the choreography to dominate, albeit flavored with Arabic harmonies. In West however, these taut machinations were performed to (among others) Johnny Cash, Tom Waits and Cat Power. The choreography re-postured itself slightly against the backdrop of each new song, relating to the emotional bravura of Power and Cash and the fast paced word-play in Waits. Sadly for me, this train never really slowed down enough in any of these places for me to see where we were going. What I really wanted was to stop off to look around at the landscape.
 It’s Gonna Get Loud, by Karole Armitage, was ironically one of the quieter pieces of the evening, both in actual volume and in scope. It was similar to West in pace, but in a straight-forward, playful way. This dance, set to a triple electric guitar score by seventies composer Rhys Chatham, was trying to be fun and sexy, but it didn’t try too hard, and I think that’s why it succeeded to the extent it did. I was reminded of popular NY choreographers of the nineties and early eighties like Doug Varone and David Dorfman, men who move big across the floor and enjoy themselves immensely. The company enjoyed themselves too and didn’t take it too seriously.
Perhaps the most ambitious piece of the evening was by Keith Johnson, a Californian with strong Utah ties. Secret Dark World was full of dance-theatre tropes looking for a home. Throughout, there was an expectation set up that we would view violence. Muted aggression was performed, but never explained or developed. The tone of the work seemed to want to be abrasive and European in the way we might like to imagine European dance as being cutting-edge, but it wasn’t. Deep down it was a very American piece and even a pretty Western piece, more so than Boye-Christensen’s West. Men and women dance together in couples and then in their respective groups of three. There are chairs in which everyone sits and then slumps as though shot by imaginary bullets. Some of these images seem to find themselves and others don’t. I didn’t feel any catharsis with what I think might have been the central images of the piece. At times this really bothered me. Why was Bashaun Williams crawling, then walking, at the behest of a taunting voice that spoke to him like a dog? And why did the same crawl-walk get re-enacted by Brad Beakes, just one more time, while wearing a dog collar held by Tara McArthur. At other times I didn’t care about the why, though I still wondered. Why did Elizabeth Kelly-Wilberg do that gorgeous, precarious solo while the chairs closed in on her? Perhaps it was just a beautiful goodbye, she’s leaving the company after this season and will certainly be missed.

Sam Hanson choreographs and makes dance film in SLC. You can see his newest project on dancesmadetoorder.com