by Hilary Crampton
The program and style of Buglisi/Foreman Dance are so far from Melbourne's current idea of contemporary dance that we almost did not know how to react. In place of young, athletic dancers throwing themselves around fearlessly in semi-violent acrobatics, we had mature elegant artists engaging in luscious, dramatic dance. Instead of costumes resurrected from the local op-shop or designed according to Chapel Street chic, we saw exquisitely designed gowns.
The dancers are products of the legacy of Martha Graham. They perform with generous heroic gestures and innate sense of innate sense of drama. While the Graham heritage is evident in their movement vocabulary, there are, nevertheless, significant differences. The percussive angularity of Graham has been softened into a lyrical flow.
The music was, almost without exception, in the Romantic realm, performed life by the Broyhill Chamber Ensemble. Some of the works are supported by text that underpins the emotional tone of the dance.
In such a packed program two works stood out out, both choreographed by Jacqulyn Buglisi. Red Hills draws upon the paintings of Georgia O'Keefe. Her work was often considered controversial, provoking debates on female sexuality. Certainly this extended solo, performed stunningly by Jennifer DePalo, was an essay in desire, as she arched, coiled and finally exploded into a whirling frenzy with extended gestures that seemed to arise from deep within her torso.
Frida draws upon the life of Frida Kahlo, a Mexican artist whose vivid paintings reflected her love of Mexico and her husband Diego Rivera, and the interminable suffering she endured as a result of an accident early in her life. Again there is evidence of Graham's influence in the way Buglisi constructed the work by using three different performers to display aspects of Kahlo's psyche. We were spared the incessant urgent motion that colors most of the other items by contrasting one dancer's action against sculptural poses of the others, coiled tensely, or expanding in yearning gestures.
Goat Song, choreographed by Donlin, used the entire company. It was a spoofy frolic, using images of creatures from Greek mythology - satyrs, nymphs and maenads, with the three men acting like the Three Stooges in Syracuse, in mock-clumsy parody, seduced by nymphs and pursued by maenads failing into poses reminiscent of Greek sculpture and friezes.
It took the audience awhile to warm to the obvious jokiness that seemed somehow out of place in relation to the other works.
The dancers are stunning. They can move with extraordinary fleetness, skimming the surface of the stage, dropping to the ground and recovering with lightning speed, and deliver each gesture with crystal clarity.
