Displaying items by tag: Batsheva Dance Company

The renowned Israeli choreographer and director of Batsheva Dance Company, Ohad Naharin, is the spotlight of this year’s Hubbard’s Summer Series, 40th Season at the Harris Theater for Music and Dance. The program features DecaDance, a reimagining of Naharin’s most celebrated pieces and recreated every 10 years. Deca Dance/ Chicago was created specifically for Hubbard Street’s current company.

DecaDance/Chicago features excerpts from Minus 16 (1999), KYR (1990), Mabul (1992), Anaphase (1993), Zachacha (1998), Naharin’s Virus (2001), Three (2005), George and Zalman (2006), Max (2007), Seder (2007) and Sadeh21 (2011).

Most pieces of the show, in both music and choreography, are very Avant-guard: decidedly not particularly pretty, occasionally disturbing, frequently puzzling. The program has a certain bi-polar quality; even playful pieces have some sadness, even despair woven throughout. Naharin’s analysis of modern society is evident in one of the First Act pieces: it features several female dancers dressed in black elegant dresses, moving with some redundancy; the soundtrack being somewhat more important than the dance itself. It starts layering verses, from the top: “Ignore all possible concepts and possibilities.” And again: “Ignore all possible concepts and possibilities, pay your taxes” …copulate”, etc. It goes on and on, ever so slightly past the point of being amusing.

But the show does get much better in the Second Act. The most entertaining piece, involving audience participation, has a group of dancers (both males and females) dressed in black suits and black hats (costume designer Rakefet Levy) leave the stage and venture out into the audience, looking for dance partners. It’s a fun, light-hearted piece, and a very well received one.

The evening’s most intense work is an excerpt from Minus 16. It premiered in 1999 in Israel, then made its US debut the following year. Set to Passover song “Echad Mi Yodea”, it has a super cool tribal drum beat and drama to spare. And again, though “Echad Mi Yodea” is a juvenile Hebrew song recited around Passover table and designed to teach children some foundations of Hebrew religion, the dance is turned into a display of anguish and despair. Dancers, dressed in black suits and hats, are seated in chairs arranged in a semi-circle. They stand up and bend backwards one by one; the last dancer to stand up violently falls forward from his chair, as if being shot. As the verses accumulate and build up, the dance is repeated over and over. The dancers eventually shed their clothes and throw them into the center of the circle. A pile of clothes and shoes in the center looks vaguely like the grim reminder of history’s events of the past. It’s theatrical and hypnotizing. Much like the rest of the show, it clearly has a message.