Crystal Pite’s Buzzy Work Has a Welcome Re-Emergence
A quadruple-bill of modern works, including a world premiere and a returning favorite, comes to Pacific Northwest Ballet. Emergence opens Friday and runs through March 23.
Dress rehearsal and conversation held on March 13 (tickets by donation, here).
For digital subscribers, the streaming version is available March 27-31.
The dance of empathy can change the trajectory of conversations. Dance can enable audiences to vicariously experience an identity they might otherwise never even consider — whether it’s the Christmas morning thrill of a little girl whose Nutcracker comes to life, a swan queen whose true love marries another, or a bee queen harnessing the collective power of her loyal subjects. Some of these opportunities are more subtle than others, and Pacific Northwest Ballet’s newest rep, Emergence, grants us the chance to really dig into some points of view we don’t usually see on classical ballet stages.
The four-part rep begins with world premiere Dawn Patrol by company dancer Price Suddarth. Suddarth has choreographed projects for the stage and dance film festivals for years now, in addition to raising two small children with his partner, former PNB dancer Emma Love Suddarth, who also served as choreographic assistant on the piece. In the program notes, Love Suddarth cites the origins of Dawn Patrol as a merging of concepts of heroism, ranging from the experiences of World War II pilots to the sacrifices parents make as they journey through the sometimes shattering experiences of child-rearing. Further, she observes, heroism is a broad concept. “Heroism does not always have to be medals, accolades, and honors. It’s not always big. Oftentimes it is small, even at times ‘mundane’.”
Afternoon of a Faun, by famous American choreographer Jerome Robbins, made its debut in 1953 at New York City Ballet. Not to be confused with Vaslav Nijinsky’s early 20th century ballet of the same name, Robbins’ two-dancer piece was inspired by his chance encounter with a sleeping seventeen-year-old Edward Villella, a rising star at NYCB, laying in a patch of sun on a dance studio floor. As described by PNB Artistic Director Peter Boal, Robbins watched young Villella start to rise, stretch, and explore the space around him, unaware he was not alone. “[He] was a sort of new embodiment of rugged masculinity in ballet,” says Boal. Juxtaposed with Claude Debussy’s calming, thoughtful score, that tangible ruggedness in the choreography of Afternoon of a Faun does not overpower or hide the feminine aspects in the movements of the female role. It does not merely carry her across the stage or highlight her turns, either. Rather, Robbins’ choreography showcases a natural coexistence of strength and softness in a masculine figure.
Mopey — a solo work set to the music of C.P.E. Bach (the less famous of the Bachs) and the influential rock band The Cramps — premiered in 2004 with Peter Boal and Company, before Boal joined PNB as Artistic Director. It is another work that both examines the male psyche and feels a bit voyeuristic to watch. Boal writes, “[Choreographer] Marco Goecke was inspired by an angry teenager in his room. I’ve often thought ‘angry’ wasn’t the right word to describe the protagonist of Marco’s solo. Petulant? Stir crazy? Hormonal?”
From an audience perspective, Mopey can grip our hearts, especially if we’ve experienced any stage of loving, raising, or being a young male-identifying person. As Boal explained, “Both works are daring in their portrayal of youth. Each pushes the envelope.”
On both pieces, Boal speaks from experience. “I never danced either, but I watched Robbins rehearse Faun and sat in the studio while Goecke created Mopey. Each piece holds autobiographical moments for its creator. I like the idea of them sharing a spot in the program because of their extreme intimacy. These two works draw the viewer in, not just because the stage space is reduced, but because our curiosity is piqued by the characters.”
Despite its social and artistic contributions, Mopey comes to us with a relevant dark mark if we’re going to discuss the role of masculinity in performing art. In 2023, Goecke responded to a scathing review of his latest work (not Mopey) by physically attacking the critic at an opera house and smearing dog excrement in her face. As with this one, not every choreographer and art-maker comes to us unscathed by personal defects. Do we have to cancel their art in order to make a stand against the harm they cause? I don’t think so, not always. Do we have to acknowledge this harm in order to repair and move forward? Heck yeah.
The final, titular piece of the rep is Canadian choreographer Crystal Pite’s famous, ground-shaking Emergence. A combination of fascinating science, sociological theory, big and mind-blowing dancing, and the obvious joy of the dancers performing it, it is one of my favorite ballets of all time.
Inspired in part by Stephen Johnson’s 2001 book Emergence: The Connected Lives of Ants, Brains, Cities, and Software, Pite’s work weaves together the lifestyles of bees, intricate pointe work, and Owen Belton’s loud, reverberating score to draw her audience into the world of the hive mind. Pas de deux, sextets, a creepy “Bee Man,” and a finale cast of 38 company members dance, skitter, stomp, and crawl their way through this ingenious ballet.
Considering how the hive mind and our increasing interdependence on each others’ lifestyles are presently creating a new age of Americanism, Pite’s ballet offers audiences a chance to reimagine how we could come together to weave new futures. Or perhaps, if it comes to that, just eat the Bee Man and move on with our days.
Emergence opens on 3/14 and runs through 3/23 at Pacific Northwest Ballet (in McCaw Hall, Seattle Center/Mercer side). Tickets here. Tickets prices vary by seat and show time. Accessibility notes: main restrooms are gendered and multi-stall, with gender-neutral, single-stall restrooms available by most of them. Theatre and common areas are wheelchair accessible.
Estimated run time: 2 hours 12 minutes, including 2 intermissions
Melody Datz Hansen is a freelance dance writer in Seattle. Her work is published in The Seattle Times, The Stranger, City Arts, and on her blog at melodydatz.com.