Pilobolus (crystallinus): a phototrophic zygomycete; a sun-loving fungus that grows in barnyards and pastures.
Naming your dance troupe after a fungus might not seem like a harbinger of success, but the dance group Pilobolusmay have pulled it off. Actually, that's an understatement.
Since its inception in 1971 Pilobolus has grown (no pun intended) to become a worldwide phenomenon, featured on 60 Minutes in 2004 and performing at the 2007 Academy Awards. This is Pilobolus's 37th year at the American Dance Festival, and it has become the must-see attraction, with an audience that comes back year after year for breathtaking lifts and acrobatic artistry.
The night began with a demonstration of the troupe's physical agility and creativity . With the Beatles' "Birthday" playing in the background, dancers spelled out "ADF 75th" in a human alphabet shadowed onto a white screen. The curtain then rose to reveal a mystical darkness lit up fireflies. The piece, Lantern Magica, evoked images of A Midsummer Night's Dream with fairy- and nymph-like creatures in a playful and everlasting game of search and pursuit. My favorite of the night,
Magica brought out the child in me. The piece came alive with innumerable lifts that carried the dancers from one fairytale scene to another. Pilobolus showed an almost inhuman ability to create the illusion of weightlessness. Characters floated through the air, undulating and flowing in time to classical music.
But beneath the beauty was the group's undeniable physical strength. The first piece alone included a human boat, a human plane and two-person somersaults (two dancers in a crab-like embrace flipping over one another).
The second piece, Symbiosis, a duet in which the two dancers, one man and one woman almost never lost physical contact, showcased the acrobatics in a primeval light. Here the dancers wore the least in terms of their outfits, but their sculpted bodies magnified the motions and poses.
The highlight after intermission was the poignant solo, Nocturne, where an emotive, masked woman explored youth and age. In one of the most powerful uses of costume all night, the ribbon holding the mask to the woman's face was unraveled and transformed into a walking cane. In near silence, a now-aged woman walked off with a quiet but resilient dignity.
Then came the experiment, the step into the future: Darkness and Light. As during the introduction, the Pilobolus dancers now performed without the audience seeing them. Besides an intentional two-second pause in the beginning before the screen dropped down, viewers could only see lights held by dancers or the silhouettes of their bodies. On this new canvas, the audience saw sights reminiscent of microorganisms under a microscope, men and aliens, and-for lack of a better expression-jelly-like blobs engulfing one another.
For some, this display was made all the more incredible because one could only guess at how the dancers created the subtle spastic vibrations of the amoeba-shaped objects. But the performance undeniably suffered from the audience's inability to physically see the dancers.
In any case, the piece is indicative of what the future of dance performance may hold.
Throughout the evening, the troupe's range was Impressive, as they moved from fairy tale to primeval man while still showcasing their signature style. Although Darkness and Light was not on par with the dancing exhibited in the rest of the performance, Nocturne is not to be missed. The images were unworldly and amazing, but it changes the definition of dance to put a screen between the dancers and the audience.
This reviewer may not be ready for the revolution-dancing without the dancers-but until that day comes, I'll still be holding my own.
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