Ballet West: Choreographic Festival

The future of ballet may very well look like the third annual Choreographic Festival presented by Ballet West, only more so. The performance itself was breathtaking. The sheer range and breadth of artistic perspectives, institutional development and support, and scaffolding of public engagement made it an unforgettable experience.

A night of mixed repertoire is expected to be stylistically diverse. The Festival’s choreographic works were diverse not only in style but also across vital metrics that may be consistently problematic in the culture and institutions of ballet.

Three of the five choreographers presented on the program were women, a noteworthy majority in a field in which women are radically underrepresented, or tokenized, in the commission and presentation of new works. A United States premiere performed by the Scottish Ballet and a premiere by the artistic director of another major American ballet company, BalletMet, were presented alongside three creations from Ballet West company artists. The Ballet West choreographers represented different ranks from within the company’s internal structure, as did the dancers each choreographer featured - ranging from the corps de ballet to principal artists.

In addition to the Festival’s performances, a screening of the documentary film Danseur on a previous night, with a post-film discussion led by professor and journalist Kate Mattingly; a visual art installation showcasing local artists; and a pre-performance lecture/Q & A with the program’s choreographers deftly mediated by Ballet West artistic director Adam Sklute all worked together to enliven the intimate Rose Wagner Performing Arts Center with a sense of community and critical viewership.

Sophie Laplane’s Sibilo opened the program with a joyful provocation superbly executed by the Scottish Ballet, for whom Laplane is choreographer-in-residence and a former dancer. As mentioned in the program notes and elaborated in the pre-performance lecture, Sibilo began as a silent duet articulating the two dancers’ personalities. The conceptual framework was drawn from pairing the duet with a whistled song, which then led to the commision of the original score and expansion of the ensemble piece.

The whistling theme threaded through an electronic pulse and drone, pacing the shifting vignettes. It began with four pairs of men in suits and women in dresses dancing in stunning unison. Fluid transitions through angular and iconic postures set the tone. A woman shed her outer layer to actively reveal a (fantastically costumed) nude-colored top and bottoms and began a quirky and intricate duet. Many iterations of duet, trio, and ensemble followed, with different facings, pacing, and affective quality, including a gorgeous dance that twined two men together and apart through the arms of one suit jacket. Other clothing articles were whisked into the wings by wire; the donning and shedding felt like an integrated allegory for personal revelation but never a gimmick. The end was familiar but fitting, the dancers in a line downstage facing out. They fully committed to individual signature movements, which the audience was by now conditioned to recognize, and then together executed the signature motif of a full-body shimmy that really must be seen to be believed.

The three works by Ballet West choreographers followed an intermission. First, principal artist Emily Adams interpreted archetypes with the high-flying, and thoughtfully cast and costumed, But A Dream. Though occasionally overwhelmed by the music and widely spaced freneticisms, the piece was an effective exploration of interacting and contrasting qualities, and reminded me of early Ballets Russes collaborations with the Surrealists. Assembling a trio of Tyler Gum, Arolyn Williams, and Jordan Veit as The Seekers, all clad in modish gender-neutral garb, was a pitch-perfect decision. Corps artist Olivia Gusti completely inhabited Adams’ mode of graceful strength as The Racer.

Ballet West first soloist Katlyn Addison’s Hidden Voices established a beautiful dynamic with its selection of an Antonín Dvořák string quartet, inspired by African American spiritual music, and the recurrent theme of hummed hymns. This musical choice, and in fact every choice in Addison’s work, indicated a commitment to the marrying of aesthetic beauty and meaningful context - a hallmark of consummate artistry and craft. The primarily classical/neoclassical vernacular was refreshing and evocative. Particularly moving for me was the stunning Gabrielle Salvatto in the Humming Section as well as the return to the stage of new mother Allison DeBona.

Demi-soloist Trevor Naumann’s disquiet was unsettling, as its title forewarns, but quite crowd-pleasing. My initial reaction was to note the strikingly vampiric quality of the undulating, scantily-clad Victorian-Gothic cluster. The cluster jerked and contorted, then emerged into controlled chaos, a surprisingly mature expression of themes that could have been less tasteful in hands other than Naumann’s. Hair whipping, lightning quick piqué turns, and group undulations in canon, the combination of which could have easily bordered on too much, were integrated here into something darker and sharper.

Edwaard Liang is both a sought-after choreographer and the artistic director of the Columbus, Ohio-based company BalletMet, following a career dancing with many internationally renowned companies. He is therefore in a prime position to encapsulate what he, Adam Sklute, and Scottish Ballet artistic director and CEO Christopher Hampson espoused in the pre-performance lecture: the creation and production of new work in collaboration with company dancers, in support of their company dancers’ artistic growth.

It was clear that Liang has a strong stylistic vision, and as readily apparent that he recognized and valued the strengths and qualities of the Ballet West dancers on whom he set his new work, Constant Light. The piece began with dancers moving in full silhouette. Warm lighting came up on a large ensemble in ombré unitards, with white on the top that transitioned to red down through the flat shoes and pointe shoes, accentuating full lines.

Constant Light was aptly named, evoking an unremitting beauty that the piece achieved both technically and expressively. Innovative partnering and interesting formations and spatial densities enlivened the abstract interpretation of string and piano concertos. An ensemble of men performed some truly lovely fouettés, a step usually reserved for women. Principal artist Adrian Fry looked at home in the style of the piece, especially during a brisk petite allegro. Soloist Chelsea Keefer caught the eye with the best onstage breakaway run I’ve seen - a surprisingly difficult task - and held that attention throughout the remainder of her section. The sparing use of silhouette was reprised only once, with a single dancer, who was discernible as the inimitably poised Emily Adams, well before the lights came up. Constant Light was a great opportunity to appreciate the individual artists familiar to Ballet West’s audience through different eyes.

Ballet companies face the challenge of continuing to broaden their horizons, while fostering the creative growth of their own artists, if they wish to remain vital. There can, and will be, documentation that addresses gender inequities in ballet through a lens even more inclusive than that of the film Danseur. The same goes for more accessible or immersive venues than the Rose Wagner Center, and for more, and wider-reaching, educational outreach than the pre-performance lectures. There will be more interdisciplinary intersections, beyond those of figurative and portrait paintings and photography that depict dance. There will also be greater institutional support for the continuing artistic development of company dancers and choreographers, especially women, especially women of color (and the list goes on). Having seen the third annual Choreographic Festival, hosted by Ballet West, I am more hopeful than I have been for quite some time that these things will happen - because they have more than begun to happen, here and now.

The Scottish Ballet in Sibilo by Sophie Laplane. Photo by Jane Hobson.

Nora Price is a Milwaukee native living and working in Salt Lake City. She can be seen performing with Durian Durian, an art band that combines post-punk music and contemporary dance.

Ballet West: The Nutcracker

Ballet West’s The Nutcracker is the first and longest-running full-length version of the ballet in the United States, created by company founder Willam Christensen in 1944 for the San Francisco Ballet. Legacy still features heavily in decisions made regarding the production and how it is marketed, and the continuity of the popular holiday classic is a point of pride for Ballet West (yet also somewhat of a sticking point). A costly overhaul of the production’s sets and costumes premiered last season with the firm reassurance that the choreography would go unchanged, and the resulting renovation has been well-received.

Tradition and historical precedent are often inescapable factors in the presentation of classical art forms. However, while familiarity and tradition may draw crowds to The Nutcracker whose sizes far surpass those at other productions, changes may be necessary to support the ballet’s continuation. In Ballet West’s production, a dramatic and deeply necessary alteration of the Chinese divertissement was made in 2013, although it was more cagily framed at the time and lacked clarity as to the nature of the need for change. Through the lens of 2018, however, the new Chinese dance is now just one on a wonderful and growing list of alterations made explicitly to end racial stereotypes in ballet. The Nutcracker, a major source of revenue for Ballet West and most ballet (and other) companies, provides the greatest visibility and exposure for an art form that struggles to be current and accessible. This means that the manner in which The Nutcracker represents ballet is even more critical.

The overture to Tchaikovsky’s suite creates an immediate wave of nostalgia the moment it begins. After a pleasant duration, lighting effects new to the 2017 version tastefully transitioned the audience into the theater experience by slowly and perfectly illuminating each of three ornaments depicting dancers that adorned the curtain. The matinee I attended was full of families with young children, who were audibly delighted by this display. Following the curtain’s rise, three successive orders of scale (the snowy town outside Dr. Drosselmeyer’s shop, the street outside the Stahlbaums’ manor, and the Stahlbaums’ front hall) were cleared before Act I began in earnest within the Stahlbaums’ home. As might be said of the entire first act, this felt somewhat tedious, but elements of traditional stagecraft helped relieve the protracted score. Additionally, a great degree of the charm throughout the first act’s party scene was imparted by the impressively well-rehearsed cast of children.

The endless social dances and toy-laden whirling were punctuated throughout the party scene by the convincingly precise and thoughtfully costumed Doll, danced by Kimberly Ballard, and the bombastic presence of Dr. Drosselmeyer. Drosselmeyer, portrayed by Trevor Naumann, was all sweeping iconic pantomime, sight gags, and emotive displays and his presence is critical to the enlivenment of Act I. Rather than the mysterious creepy uncle found in almost every other Nutcracker, Christensen’s flamboyant Drosselmeyer reminds me of the classic trope of the Eccentric Mentor. However, no amount of actorly interpretation could make his cape-swirling, clock-inhabiting presence less than sinister as a sleeping Clara begins to dream the battle scene. The Christmas tree grew in a very effective swirl of light, the battle ended after many alternations between cowering and saber-rattling, and Clara and the now life-size Nutcracker Prince were whisked off to take in the snow scene. The corps de ballet of Snowflakes was sharp, though anyone seated anywhere off center would have missed much of the clarity in their formations. The pas de deux was the first refreshing moment in the ballet to watch less than a full cast’s worth of dancers on stage and was a nice bit of classical partnering in its own right.

Following intermission, through some charming old-school puppetry, Clara and her escort arrived in the land of the Sugar Plum Fairy. The backdrop included an array of iconic world architectures, a kind of visual esperanto that brands universal goodwill. The intention was sweet but naively relativistic, the result troubling as ever given how these cultures are represented later in the second act. The welcoming Pages, danced by students of the Ballet West Academy, were amazing; they executed sequential double pirouettes and grand allegro jumps with confidence and skill. Their counterparts in the Ladies-in-Waiting were disappointingly mere stage-dressing, and overdressed at that, bearing cumbersome decorative staves and overwrought headdresses. All of which was very Old-World European in aspect… until the arrival of the costumed monkeys, dressed in fezzes and vests, who were cast-listed as “Servants” and whose mode of movement was a too-familiar servile, half-bowing trot. Act II had just begun and already I found myself questioning this young German girl’s grasp of the nuances of the Global Village and its neocolonial entanglements, herself and her worldly reverie poised on the cusp of the Second Industrial Revolution.

The entrance of the Sugar Plum Fairy was dramatic, a vision of beauty, strength, and composure. I could have done without the butterfly wings affixed temporarily to her back, but I could also see how the kids in the audience might have enjoyed them. Emily Adams was completely stunning in her Sugar Plum variation, articulating every inch of the iconic solo and the final pas de deux. The series of divertissements that preceded her were largely enjoyable. The Spanish divertissement was a fun and lively trio, the Mirlitons found ease in a technical ensemble, and the Russian dance was both crowd-pleasing and reflective of a folk dance tradition. The Waltz of the Flowers was busy yet lovely, and I would gladly watch Katherine Lawrence as the lead flower do beautiful battement battu down the diagonal at the expense of the many pressed high lifts, which were less exciting than her incredible execution.

Mother Buffoon was a delightfully overblown archetype of the “pantomime dame,” in the music hall mimesis drag tradition. I think more could be done with the role to honor that tradition, as was achieved so well in last season’s production of Sir Frederick Ashton’s Cinderella. Mother Buffoon’s divergent torso and borrowed pair of legs make for fantastic vaudeville and are great technical costuming at that. The tiny bumblebees’ costumes looked rather cheap in comparison, and it is anyone’s guess as to why they are in and out of her skirts, but there exists both historical and local precedent: the 1892 premiere of Petipa and Ivanov’s Nutcracker ended with a hive of dancing bees, and Christensen’s production now lives on in the Beehive State. The bees are also super cute.

The Chinese and Arabian dances were more troublesome than enjoyable for me. The Chinese dance formerly exemplified racist caricature and now, following its 2013 reworking, is a skillful display with an element of cultural celebration. The alteration was deeply necessary and I am appreciative of Artistic Director Adam Sklute’s initiative in making the change. I also appreciate his commentary on it, which appears in the Final Bow For Yellowface, an initiative spearheaded by the incredible New York City Ballet soloist and “rogue ballerina” Georgina Pazcoguin. The new Chinese Warrior dance was imported from an old San Francisco Ballet version, choreographed by Willam Christensen’s brother Lew, and thus historically tied to Ballet West’s production. However, despite this retroactive commitment to end yellowface, we saw quite a bit of it still in Ballet West’s performance of Stanton Welch’s Madame Butterfly in 2016.

I am concerned that, without a similar such alternative, the Arabian Dance will not get the reworking that it too absolutely needs. The admission that many of the divertissements are caricature and stereotype, but to varying degrees of insult, is worrisome. The Arabian dance includes the same sexist servility found in the former Chinese dance, with the Arabian female lead also utterly sexualized and exoticized, flailing her arms and gyrating in a way that is needlessly outside of keeping with the rest of the dance and utterly divergent from any national or ethnic folk dance tradition. Ballet West has recently exemplified commitment to representing diversity in ballet, supporting female choreographers, and engaging in cultural ambassadorship as a touring company. I am grateful to support a company that actively progresses ballet in the twenty-first century. I hope I can count on Ballet West to do no less than excise the remaining blithe racism in their historical production of The Nutcracker.

Nora Price is a Milwaukee native living and working in Salt Lake City. She can be seen performing with Municipal Ballet Co. and with Durian Durian, an art band that combines post-punk music and contemporary dance.

Municipal Ballet + Conquer Monster: Metatransit

METATRANSIT was a joint production by the musical duo Conquer Monster and Municipal Ballet Co. Being a sci-fi buff myself, I was excited to learn that the premise of the show was an abstract dance narrative inspired by the comic series, “Purge Worlds” written by Joshua Oman and illustrated by Chris Black. Conquer Monster originally crafted a custom soundtrack, METATRANSIT,  which was designed to be played while reading the comic series. To my delight, the soundtrack was played live for the show. Video-glitch artist Tanner Hawkins was also involved in the mix by providing video content.

The event was held at Urban Lounge. To be honest, this worried me. I had only ever seen music concerts there complete with beer sticky on the floor, and sweaty millennials bouncing only slightly to the music. My worry proved unwarranted as the space was transformed for the show. Company director Sarah Longoria took to the stage and introduced the evening. She mentioned that her company does “experimental ballet” and that this show was a little more than that, being their first time performing to electronic dance music. I settled into my seat as the fog machines hissed, spurting out smoke that set the atmosphere.

DYSTOPIAN UNDERWORLD by Sarah Longoria was the first piece in the show. It opened with dancer Hannah Bowcutt seated mid-stage with her back to the audience. The movement for this work contained the most classically recognizable ballet moves. There were long and beautiful lines in the choreography which fit Hannah perfectly. My favorite moment was when she took her socks off and tossed them to the side. This action somehow signaled to me that Hannah was preparing to dive in a little deeper for when she returned to dancing she had a new and visible determination with each movement. Extensions appeared as a motif throughout the work. While Hannah was captivating to watch as she held her legs impossibly high, I couldn’t help but notice that the graceful movements did not match the title of the piece.  

Hannah was joined by Amy Falls and Nora Price for the second work, FLUX PERIPHERAL by Erica Womack. The ladies were wearing white and gray and each had a different Ziggy Stardust-esque facepaint. This trio had moments of scrambled video bits projected on their bodies as well as onto the backdrop. The ladies moved with a lovely sense of timing during all of the unison phrases. The choreography highlighted the music with dynamic accents. The motif for this piece seemed to be a deep second position plié while in unison, and it was very satisfying to watch. The dancers all had stoic facial expressions and seemed to represent some disciplined yet graceful ideology through their movements.  

GALAXY SURFER was the first video work by Tanner. My favorite images were of the the killer scorpion robot. I didn’t recognize any other images used from different sci-fi movies or shows, but the futuristic theme was apparent in showing images of explosions, robots, fancy switchboards and distorted bodies.  

WAVEFORM DISTORTION by Kaya Wolsey was the next work presented. The music definitely added a new tone for the show. It was driving and lightning fast. I noticed myself and others tapping along in time with the beat, caught in the energy that Conquer Monster was creating. The choreography mirrored the pace of the song with moves executed on every count.  Cynthia Phillips was so precise yet fierce with every phrase. She was vibrant and moved with a determined force. The lights were dramatic, dark and colorful, making this setting very different from the light, ethereal moods of earlier on. Cynthia wore all black and was smirking a little wickedly throughout her solo. While I was very impressed with the athleticism of the piece, I also found myself wishing there had been more moments of dynamic time changes like the one repeated variation Cynthia did in the middle of the dance.  

The energy from the previous piece carried us into a duet with Cynthia and Kaya Wolsey.  TRANSMITTING DNA AT 299 MM/S was a fitting name as the movements continued to  a crescendo. Choreographer Jessica Liu used partnerwork and lifting with the duo to create moments of suspension. Cynthia and Kaya locked eyes with each-other, becoming the first dancers to visibly see and acknowledge their shared presence. The lighting continued with dark washes of solid color changing with the pulsing beats. Both dancers were emotionally invested, and proud. Both clad in black, I immediately concluded that this group of dancers was meant to be in opposition to the white/gray group. This second group had smaller numbers, but seemed very powerful in their movements which set them apart from the aloof aesthetic of the other dances.  

The second video, POSTHUMAN, showed much if not all of the same images from GALAXY SURFER but in different sequencing. This time around I noticed smaller details such as the repeating sign “Oasis” despite other images of war, high tech robots, explosions and distorted people. I found myself having little moments of nostalgia whenever I could see “Play” flashing on the top of the screen like an old VHS player.  

In SELF-SIMILAR FREQUENCY DOMAIN by Chase Wise we saw the two groups join forces and share the stage. While the girls danced in unison during the work, I could still see the emphasis on the differing styles of movement. The two dancers in black had a little more attack and sharpness to their movements while the gray/white group ebbed and flowed. Chase used lots of directional changes which were extremely refreshing on the intimate stage. Detailed gestures were woven into the work and punctuated by the dancers framing their heads with their hands. This move seemed to demonstrate some sort of personal obstacles or a mental block. I couldn't help but to try and find a narrative that I could follow within the movement. I caught my breath when for a moment all of the dancers were on the floor with their feet up and hands in a  “stop” position. Fast floorwork made the piece exciting and lent a contemporary edge to the show. While this piece was strong choreographically, I felt that the unison sections seemed a little under-rehearsed and the girls weren’t completely in sync.  

During ANAGLYPHIC VISION(S) by Trevor Naumann, the white/gray group returned with more dancers. I could see the group making amorphous shapes in positive and negative space. There was minimal contact during these shapes, which was something I longed to see a more of.  Naumann added little snippet solos that broke away from the group. The solos were titillating, leaving me wanting more of those highlights to break up the unison.  

After reading the program, I was intrigued that NOISE DECAY by Nora Price and Emily Snow contained an improvisational framework that the dancers could work within. At first all of the dancers were huddled on the floor in a clump. They held this position as Emily slowly and deliberately padded towards them. As she got closer to the group, they began to peel away one by one. Emily seemed to be breaking up the group, changing their paths and altering their destinations which allowed for happy accidents of interaction. Perhaps the most vivid moment of the piece was when two dancers were left downstage and center. With a slight pause the girls reached out and touched the other’s sternum with their hands right over the heartspace. The detailed moments of contact were so few and far between in the show that this moment stuck with me throughout the evening. It added a touch of humanity to the sensory overload of loud music and static-filled imagery in much of the concert.  

While STARPORT DESTRUCTION SEQUENCE had a few new images thrown into this video interlude, I wanted to see more variety the third time around. Since the dances in the show lacked a clearly outlined narrative to follow, I assumed that the videos were meant define the adventure. While I could tell that there was a story of chaos and war being told, I wished that the videos were able to provide the context that the dances were missing. I wanted to know more about the inspiration of the comics behind the dances. Perhaps in the future, more collaboration could happen between the choreographers and video artist to help further the story for the audience.  

The last piece of the evening was a composite of all that came before. SPECTRAL DRIFT started with Amy. She commanded the audience’s attention as she progressed through a repeated movement phrase from FLUX PERIPHERAL. Each dancer joined her one by one. It was extremely gratifying to see everyone in complete unison with the return of the deep, second position plié. At one point the stage was split into two parallel lines with the dancers facing the other side in a showdown. Some of the dancers would move to the middle and repeat solos they had executed from previous pieces. At the end of the piece I saw a reimagining of the opening image of Hannah, but with all of the dancers. The girls were seated at the end of the stage with their backs to the audience. Every other dancer had their elbows up and out, creating a triangular silhouette that was juxtaposed by the curled-up position of the remaining dancers. The end of the dance was choreographed to coincide perfectly with the winding-down of the music and made for a striking final image.  

This was my first time seeing work by all of the artists involved in the show. I was not disappointed. The concert was an excellent length with seamless transitions from piece to piece thanks to brilliant playing by Conquer Monster. The dancers wore the same costumes throughout, which gave a sense of continuity. The live music provided the ever-beating heart behind the movement. The videos were interesting despite being a little disconnected from the dancing. I was confused about what was supposed to be happening in the story which made me want to read the comic book and then see the show again. Overall, it is refreshing to see ballet being taken in new directions by Municipal Ballet Co. After speaking with some of the creators involved, they seemed open to working on more projects like this one in the future. This mixed media approach featuring local artists seems to echo a change of times in the performance world, by blending the lines between art forms and fostering collaboration.

Ashley Creek holds a BFA from the University of Utah. She is currently the Co-Director of Brine and a member of Myriad Dance Company. Ashley teaches with Ballet West and performs in different projects around the valley.  

Ballet West: Works from Within at Eccles in PC

Formerly known as Innovations, Ballet West has moved the newly titled Works from Within to the Eccles Center in Park City. Works from Within shares choreography from company ranks and 2017’s presented world premieres by Oliver Oguma, Trevor Naumann, Kazlyn Nielsen, and Adrian Fry. While the Eccles Center primarily presents touring groups who may stop in Park City during larger tours of the West (think Jessica Lang), it’s this Salt Lake based company who had the best turnout of any dance that I’ve seen in the space.

One choreographer, Kazlyn Nielsen, was new to the Works from Within platform and her work, “Rendering Stillness,” was perhaps the most conventional offering of the evening. But, inarguably, Nielsen achieved her goal of offering a breath in a fast-paced world with her presentation of delicate partnering to Satie. Also traditional in concept and execution was Adrian Fry’s second work for the platform, “Kinesis.” Much like his 2015 work, “Pulse,” the work relies on the propulsion of music to move large groups through the space in a neo-classical tradition. “Kinesis,” featured more than just the company dancers in performance, as principal dancer Emily Adams costumed the work.

Two former Works from Within participants offered more specific aesthetic perspectives. Last year, Trevor Naumann premiered a dance about the philosophical views of Homer and I wrote in a review that the work was reminiscent of certain moments in Martha Clarke’s “Garden of Earthly Delights” because of styling but also its content. With another score by Boaz Roberts (deliberately driving and equally grating) the dancers in Naumann’s new work, “Grief and Integration,” explore something similar and reminiscent of different portions of the same dance by Clarke. This comparison is not just because of the return of nude unitards but because of the physical explorations of confusion and pain which are outside the norm of Ballet West’s typical fare.

Some of Naumann’s metaphors in “Grief and Integration” are clear (death comes for you in a black hood and mask) but others are less so (some dancers have human adornment like suspenders and jackets while the rest are clearly dressed for dance). In this mixed bag there is nevertheless an ongoing exploration of the way contemporary ballet might interact with the contemporary moment and its address of pain and pleasure. Further, it suggests that Naumann’s ongoing investigations may take place both in and outside of ballet’s own idioms. While this dance won’t remain my favorite piece, it will always be in the trajectory of where Naumann ultimately takes these ideas which seems to be the purpose of Works from Within.

Oliver Oguma similarly fulfills this purpose as he connects threads from last year’s “Fragments of Simplicity” to the premiere of “Tremor.” In both works, the movement for men is stunning and subtle. Also in both, it appears that women are added because that’s what usually happens in this situation. Clad in androgynous tanks and leotards, I can see the case that the dance includes traditional partnering as a way to break down the common gender stereotypes held within dancing bodies and theatrical structures. But having been at more than one modern dance rodeo I can attest that an androgynous dancing body usually ends up being a male dancing body (see: Nikolais repertory with women binding their breasts and men existing ‘androgynously’ in their same dance belts and unitards).

My desire for Oguma to explore a ballet for the male movers he is so adept at carving space for ironically competes with my ongoing desire for the inclusion of more female choreographers both in Works from Within and in the Ballet West season. Last year after consulting a professor specializing in political statistics, I came up with the figure that in a randomized selection of Ballet West company members there is less than an 8% probability that only one woman would be selected for this platform given the company makeup. That this systemic bias continues to be inadvertently reflected in the programming but corrected in the choreography is an interesting counterpart to the concert itself.

In an ongoing commitment to presenting contemporary ballets, Ballet West will soon be at another Eccles venue: Eccles Theater, in downtown Salt Lake, with the new National Choreographic Festival. Tickets and information about the program can be found here.

Ashley Anderson is the director of loveDANCEmore community events as part of her non-profit, ashley anderson dances. See more of her work on ashleyandersondances.com