In this piece, Peter DiMuro asks a vital question: how has history informed the ways we look at queerness today?
The horrors portrayed in See You Yesterday are facts, but this show does not yet address the meaning a new generation can make of those facts.
Here was another (all-too) typical example of ballet companies reinforcing a patriarchy that hardly reflects the number of women in their ranks.
Two autobiographies by women who had some experience in legitimate theater, but they each gave their strongest allegiance to dance, specifically one choreographer.
Via Ray Bolger’s trajectory we traverse the boards of Broadway and the silver screen of Hollywood — as well as the smaller, but equally thrilling, milieux of nightclubs and television studios.
This mysterious dance may have no meaning at all beyond its cryptic theatricality and movement. Or it may mean a lot.
Although hailing from different backgrounds, Tony Williams and Duggan Hill share important commonalities, most notably their engagement with urban youth.
Monica Bill Barnes, a dancer-choreographer, mime, storyteller and soft satirist, has riffed in the past on the pitfalls of dancing, the vanity of performers, the absurdities of adolescence. Now she’s looking at gender displacements and assertions.
William Forsythe asks dancers to go beyond their mastery of technique — in order to have the music move audiences to a higher level of emotional involvement.
Mark Morris and Ethan Iverson chose songs from the famous album for reflection and extrapolation. What they made is an entertainment, a romp for the company’s terrific dancers.