Pilobolus, a modern dance troupe founded at Dartmouth 20 years ago, came home this Friday to amaze a new audience.
Formed in 1973 by three Dartmouth students and a dance teacher -- now artistic directors to the group -- Pilobolus has achieved international recognition as an innovative modern dance group. The choreographic leaders pride themselves on their refusal to conform to the techniques of modern dance and emphasize the "Pilobolus technique" of opening up people to their own natural sense of movement as expression.
Translating their theory of movement into dance, the group began their performance in Center Theater with "The Particle Zoo," a movement piece for the four male dancers in the group, which was primarily a display of the dancers' spectacular acrobatic skills. Leaps and lifts left the audience gasping, at both the sheer strength needed to execute the complex movements and the beauty of the four bodies working together, combining into one organic form and then breaking apart into a wave of motion.
The first dance also revealed a touch of the humor that Pilobolus is known for. When the curtain rose, three shirtless men stood on stage. A fourth man, fully clothed, leapt out to join them. After a moment he tore of his shirt, and the dance began while the audience laughed. The hilarious exploration of conformity continued throughout the piece, as the three dancers repeatedly accept and repel the fourth. The entire piece, enhanced by a collage of rhythmic instrumentals by modern musicians including Brian Eno and Jean-Luc Ponty, was imbued with a fantastic energy level.
The second piece, "Duet," performed by the two women of the group, was a much slower work. Set to a haunting interpretation of medieval Norwegian songs, the dance focused on the dynamic relationship between the two women. The first segment of the piece was a series of painstakingly slow and sensual twining movements with the two women alternately supporting and clinging to each other.
In the second movement of the duet, the dancers were posed as opposites rather than a unit, bouncing off each other like fighters. Then, in a short, final segment, the two women returned to their original setup, twisting together until they become one static organism.
Like "The Particle Zoo," "Duet" showcased the amazing athletic prowess of the dancers. However, for a number of reasons -- less dramatic music, a smaller range of motion, more physical tension -- the display did not match the drama of the opening piece. It often seemed almost too slow, and those in the front rows could see the women's legs trembling under the strain. Although the motions of the dancers were certainly beautiful, the confined movements held back some of the energy and tenderness that the work deserved.
The third dance, a solo from the 1980 "Empty Suitor," was anything but reserved. This vaudevillian sketch, danced marvelously by Adam Battlestein, (who also played the "fourth man" in "Particle Zoo"), brought back the whimsy introduced in the first piece. Dancing across a series of rolling tubes on the floor, Battlestein kept the audience's attention as he stumbled his way through a brief entanglement with a mysterious woman and a longer one with a park bench. His hilarious collapse brought down the curtain on the first act.
The second act presented "Rejoyce," a dance created this year after the group's reading of "Finnegan's Wake." Although the story was unclear the emotions expressed in each scene of this narrative piece were unmistakable.
The score, composed for Pilobolus by Paul Sullivan, neatly included snatches of Irish songs, a rainstorm, a calliope, animal sounds and a baby's cry, all of which defined the changing scenes of the dance.
Utilizing the entire stage, plus an array of flying cables, the quintet presented two beautiful love scenes, a spectacular aerial boxing match, a circus and a race.
The dance culminated with a very moving scene, in which a combined use of the flight lines and white balloons, which grew progressively larger, made the dancers appear weightless. The five moved together, passing the balloons so gracefully that the entire scene -- lit by star-shaped spotlights -- might have almost been set on the moon.
Pilobolus was, indeed, out of this world.
