I have heard nothing but praise for Malpaso Dance Company over the years and on April 24, I finally had the opportunity to see the Havana, Cuba-based company perform live. The dancers’ sheer physicality and honest commitment to their performance pulled me in and kept my attention through all three works presented.
The evening opened with Ephrat Asherie’s Floor…y Ando, a trio of male dancers. I first noticed the dancers wearing everyday sneakers–a choice that made the performance feel grounded and relatable. The choreography and production elements invited a sense of personal connection, dissolving the distance the proscenium stage can sometimes create between performer and audience. The dancers’ contemporary attire–a button-up shirt and pants–further emphasized the piece’s focus on humanity and relationships. The specificity of the lighting captured the poignancy of time and moments, underscoring the seamless transitions in partner work. Flow and ease were beautifully juxtaposed with staccato footwork, reflecting Asherie’s research and expertise in street dance. The abstract nature of the work allowed for open interpretation, encouraging personal connection rooted in shared human experience. I did find myself missing the internal drive in the dancers’ performance. Compared to their connection to the inner fire and depth of connection displayed in the works that followed, their presence in Floor…y Ando felt somewhat restrained.
I often find that when I have a lot to say, it means I am intrigued and hungry for more. Osnel Delgado’s A Dancing Island inspired many thoughts. Delgado, a co-founder of Malpaso, also serves as Artistic Director and company dancer. One of Malpaso’s greatest strengths as a company is their commitment to elevating Cuban choreographers in their repertoire. While I do not know much about Cuba or its culture, A Dancing Island made me feel welcomed into its community. The work featured all eleven company dancers and leaned more toward narrative structure compared to Asherie’s abstract piece. Clear relationships emerged through playful tableaus and interactions between male and female dancers. At one point, a dancer begins to sing, sparking a shift in energy that awakened the individuality of those around her and initiated a joyful journey of celebration. The music’s layered rhythms prompted the dancers to explore polyrhythms within their bodies, playing with pulses and accents simultaneously. From my perspective, the dancers’ performance felt second nature–vital and deeply rooted in their identities. The cast was exceptionally well-rehearsed. Movements were crisp, with precise slicing of limbs through space and a strong sense of connection between dancers. I was surprised when the house lights rose to reveal a dancer seated among the audience, who was beckoned to return to the stage. This gesture emphasized the idea that dance extends beyond the proscenium-more than performance, it is a way of life, deeply woven into Cuban culture.
While the dancers exhibited impeccable timing in their movement—knowing exactly how long to hold a shape or let a ripple travel from head to toe–I felt the timing in the overall choreographic progression could have been stronger. Transitions between musical scores and sections felt abrupt, and some images or ideas left the stage too quickly. I wanted to linger longer in those moments. Compared to the natural rise and fall of the music, the choreographic movement was very even and never fully embraced urgency. I also wished the female dancers had been given more opportunities to demonstrate their technical prowess; the more athletic and physical feats were performed exclusively by men.
The final work of the evening, Why You Follow, was choreographed by Ronald K. Brown, whose extensive résumé includes commissions for Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, Philadanco, and Ballet Hispánico. The collective of nine dancers wore casual black, grey, and red costumes–I craved a more distinctive wardrobe to match the energy and intricacy of Brown’s choreography. This work echoed Delgado’s work in its use of polyrhythm and the dancers’ full-bodied commitment to the movement. However, I was puzzled by the bow at the end: the four female dancers bowed together, while the men came forward individually. Though one male dancer had a featured role, the structure of the bow didn’t seem to reflect the overall ensemble contributions of the piece.
I left Malpaso’s concert wondering why the men appeared to be featured more prominently than the women, but would still see Malpaso Dance Company perform again if given the chance. I eagerly anticipated this evening and would like to thank Utah Presents for bringing them to Salt Lake City. Throughout this season, Utah Presents has curated a stunning lineup of performances, and I leave each concert feeling energized and inspired–especially when the audience rises to its feet in celebration with the final bow of the evening. I’m proud to be a part of a community that shows such love and support for dance.
Kara Robertson is a Choreographer, Director, and Educator based in Salt Lake City, Utah working towards her MFA in Modern Dance at the University of Utah. She founded and served as Artistic Director of Karar Dance Company, a 501(c)3 nonprofit professional contemporary dance company, for seven years. She is a 2024 Virginia Commission for the Arts Choreographic Fellow. Her work has been performed throughout the country including at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts and at the Ailey Citigroup Theater and Gibney Dance. Kara holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Dance and Choreography from Virginia Commonwealth University. Find her at kararchoreo.com and on Instagram @kararchoreo.