With movement expressing joy, conflict, desire and discovery, the choreography of Alan Danielson provided the audience at the Joyce Soho on Sunday, February 13 with powerful drama as well as free and exuberant dancing.  This program entitled Salt on Our Skin was brilliantly structured, interweaving themes and movement vocabulary through eight works to create a coherent, unified program.

The opening piece, encantacion, served as a clear introduction to the concert in both its themes and movement.  Here is revealed the ability of one woman to persevere and reach her goal despite obstacles and conflict.  We are presented with the idea that in spite of this struggle, there remains a basic connection and unity between all human beings.  Three dancers, Jennifer Chin, Debra Noble, and Nina Wallon, appear in red dresses which reappear later in the concert.  The women begin by kneeling and looking at each other.  Then, reaches are added, partly to Heaven and partly toward one another.  This reaching evolves into shapes created by the trio as they wrap their arms around, and lean on, one another.  The connection between these women is emphasized further as they rise to their feet, touching each other tenderly.  Leaning is reintroduced which evolves into Chin and Wallon pulling and pushing Noble back from her apparent goal beyond our range of vision to our right.  Noble struggles across the stage as the other two women hinder her progress.  Still she, and as a result the group, travels gradually across the stage.  The drama of her struggle is clear in her off-balance movement, and her focus and use of facial expression display a sense of determination.  The piece ends once Noble has managed to travel across the back of the stage.  Her face is radiant as she focuses upward into the light, displaying the joy of having attained her heart’s desire. 

Edge, the second work on the program, explores the nature of desire.  Danielson begins alone, studying the piece of red velvet on the floor with curiosity, then touching it.  The power contained within this piece of fabric has sexual implications as revealed in the way the dancers relate to it, and in the sensual symbolism of red velvet.  Each time Danielson touches it, we see a trembling ecstasy on his face and in his body.  Each time, he is nearly trapped by its intensity, his body filled with tension, his face, and his hair.  When he manages to pull himself away from the fabric, he utilizes markedly pedestrian movement, walking around the piece of fabric with curiosity, amazement, and shock.  The extreme contrast between the impassioned movement on the fabric with the pedestrian movement off the fabric heightens our sense of the power contained in this piece of red velvet.  As the music changes, Nina Wallon joins Alan Danielson on stage.  He looks curious about her presence, while he simultaneously longs to return to the fabric.  He blocks her progress toward the fabric, as though he would shield her from it, thereby keeping the secrets of passion for himself.  As Nina dances, her face and movement communicate increasing desire to reach the fabric and frustration at her path toward it being blocked.  A poignant moment occurs when Nina’s leg dangles over the fabric as Alan pulls her away; we experience that suspended moment before the fulfillment of physical desire.  Then, both dancers suddenly end up on the fabric together, joined in the powerful euphoria it brings, as revealed by their slow, tension-filled movement.  Danielson pulls himself away again, but Wallon continues experiencing the fabric’s intensity, falling on top of it and wrapping herself up in it.  He watches, fascinated, and the piece reaches its resolution with Danielson reaching for the fabric wrapped around Wallon’s body.  Throughout, Danielson’s focus and use of facial expressions are clear and intense, adding to the power of the drama.  Nina’s focus is likewise strong when she is interacting with Alan or on the fabric, but can become a bit distant at other points in the choreography.

While the movement in Harold and Agnes seems rather absurd, it conveys a realistic sense of how different personalities handle a lack of control.  Here, Alan Danielson has created movement which brings to life two distinct characters.  Alan Danielson and Jennifer Chin alternate periods of movement and stillness while they sit on stools on different parts of the stage.  Danielson’s use of movement and facial expressions portray a character who is rather dazed and amazed at everything.   It appears that he has little control over his movements, and each time his body moves he is awed at both these involuntary movements and at his discovery of his environment.  Chin repeats Danielson’s movement phrases but with an entirely different quality.  She shakes frantically.  The shock at her complete lack of control over her body is evident on her face.  In fact, we come to see something of an amazed terror at her own body as she struggles against it.  The music by Georges Aperghis reflects the movement quality of each character.  For Danielson’s, the music is softer and gentler, and for Jennifer it is much more frenzied.  As the piece continues, more frantic moments are interspersed with Danielson’s dazed explorations of his environment and his wonder at his movement, thus tying his experience to hers and providing an excellent dynamic contrast.  Meanwhile, Chin seems to become even more frantic and frustrated and fails in most of her attempts to maintain control, though a few moments of regaining control find their way.  As the dancers begin to move at the same time, each dancer’s perspective on her lack of control is cleverly juxtaposed.  It becomes even more apparent that he is having fun with the things that so frustrate her.  With the change in lighting, Danielson becomes aware of and curious about Chin’s presence for the first time.  This is an excellent choreographic choice, as Danielson develops the ideas he established at the beginning of the piece.  He reaches for her inquisitively and stretches his foot out to her stool.  Chin, on the other hand, is annoyed by his invasion of her space.  Frustrated and frantic, she crawls across his body which bridges the two stools which are now side by side.  True to form, Alan lies there amused and amazed until they trade stools.  They trade back as Danielson falls back to his stool in awe of what has happened, while Chin remains annoyed and stunned by his behavior and her lack of control over it.  The piece as a whole works brilliantly because of the dynamic contrast in Danielson’s use of similar movement phrases and because the dancers’ facial expressions are genuine reactions to their bodies’ movements.  Moreover, Georges Aperghis’s music serves as a welcome contrast to the Mediterranean-based music used in many of the company’s other works. 

Tear, performed by Alan Danielson and Debra Noble, is a duet which contrasts love and tenderness with conflict and a desire for freedom.  As the piece begins, Danielson seems to be standing alone on stage, dressed in white.  However, his slow arm extension which sets the piece in motion reveals that Noble is standing directly behind him, giving us the sense that she may feel blocked by his presence in her life.  As the couple moves together, tenderness and love are revealed in the reaches, embraces and gentle lifts which flow smoothly in and out of one another.  This sensitivity stresses the powerful bond between the couple, but the conflict about to emerge is foreshadowed in longing gazes on the diagonal.  Noble begins these gazes, but soon both dancers reveal their desire for something beyond our field of vision.  As the dancers continue their tender partnering, they move along the diagonal toward the object of their interest.  This develops into an increasingly desperate struggle during which the couple pushes and pulls one another to hinder each other’s progress.  Still, moments of tenderness provide a visual contrast to the developing problems and also serve to emphasize the connection between them.  Both dancers effectively use focus and facial expression— hers revealing desire and frustration and his exhibiting increasing anger.  It seems to be these things which are tearing them apart.  The piece ends in silence as the couple walks around each other.  This lends the ending a feeling of looming dread for the future, which a simple conclusion to the conflict would never have been able to evoke. 

The three solos interspersed throughout the program are performed in the red dresses first seen in the opening piece, and explore different personalities.  The first of these is Wake, performed by Debra Noble.  This piece reveals an individual’s struggle to rise from limitations and move freely.  Noble begins face down on the floor as she moves her legs and head and eventually begins to crawl across the floor.  Gradually, reaching movements are added as her focus begins to lift.  Once she has noticed the world above the confines of her struggle on the floor, she begins to crawl more frantically, adding rolling, and she eventually manages to rise to her feet.  From this point there is a fitting change in the mood of the piece.  Debra reaches upward and outward with her arms and stretches her leg into a beautiful high extension.  She executes a sequence of footwork with sensitivity, demonstrating that she has not only accomplished her goal of rising to her feet, but that she has also found freedom in the experience.  The choice to end the piece in a high arch with her chest in the light further emphasizes the great progress she has made and creates a strong contrast to her downward focus at the beginning of the piece.  Pulse, the second of the solos, is a joyous exploration of space.  The performance by Nina Wallon gives us a sense of this joy through her focus and facial expressions.  This delight is heightened by the outward and upward extensions of her arms and legs and the way she suspends certain movements before allowing them to end.  She reaches out, exploring and experiencing space like a child leaping through a field of flowers, reaching for the sun and birds and trees.  The piece concludes as she faces upward, the rapture of her experience still apparent on her face.  The third solo on the program, Blink, is performed by Jennifer Chin.  This piece is simultaneously a flirtation with the audience and a seamless transition into the final piece of the evening.  This solo is joyous and fun to watch as Jennifer beckons the audience toward her, her face and eyes filled with enticement.  Her upward-reaching jumps contribute a celebratory effect to the piece and her rhythmic footwork lends it a Spanish feel.