Limón Dance Company Review
November 8, 2024 | The Joyce Theater – New York, NY, USA
Words are powerful, but even they have their limits. Thankfully, we have dance.
The vanguard Limón Dance Company, under the artistic direction of Dante Puleio, kicked off its 78th season with a rousing five-part program that wrestled with the ineffable struggle “of being on the outside looking in.” The program, performed at The Joyce Theater in New York City, featured a thoughtful mix of pieces derived from the Limón-Humphrey canon.
Limón Dance Company Review
The program opened strong with the all too timely The Traitor. One of Limón’s more notable works, The Traitor was created in 1954 around the early days of the McCarthy hearings and the climate of suspicion and distrust that surrounded them.
Brilliantly evoking the sentiment of the era, the piece taps into the well-known story of Judas Iscariot’s role in betraying Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. This is done not forcibly, but still noticeably through clever allusive imagery, such as the carrying of the cross, the Last Supper, Jesus’s arrest, and the crowning with thorns.
The strong narrative action plays out between The Leader (MJ Edwards), The Traitor (Nicholas Ruscica), and a band of six Followers. The cast is notably made up of both men and women, marking the first time this piece has been performed with a mixed gender cast.
Technical command aside, what truly elevated the piece was the genuine earnestness each dancer brought to the stage.
Nowhere was this more apparent, however, than in Edwards’ portrayal of The Leader. A dancer of presence and composure, they executed each step with layered intention, giving both the role and overall piece serious gravitas.
Next up was Scherzo.
Following a brief musical interlude by percussionist Douglas Perkins, the company launched into what one could only describe as an unabashedly lighthearted, high-energy quartet that seemed to embody the unbridled curiosity of children discovering the thrill of the sometimes messy, often beautiful, interplay between rhythm and movement.
Scherzo, which was brought back for this program after nearly 45 years in the archives, elevates Limón’s distinctive choreographic voice to its fullest. Leaning into Limón’s tendency toward movements that do more to capture the human experience than showcase a dancer’s athleticism or technical prowess, the piece seemed – in the best way possible – to lack choreographic structure.
The seemingly organic movement patterns gave the impression the dancers were free to respond to the music, each other, and the space in an open-ended, exploratory way.
Of the perfectly cast ensemble, Eric Parra was especially enjoyable to watch. He drew the audience in with his infectious smile, but it was the authentic quality of his movement that truly held them captive. Each step felt charged with a kind of impulsive vitality, as if he were harnessing energy from the rhythm of the drum.
The third work on the program, The Quake that Held Them All, brought about a tonal shift.
The Quake that Held Them All was a brand-new work by Bessie award-winning choreographer Kayla Farrish that, according to Puleio, explores the circuitous process of a community coming together in search of common ground.
This work was inspired by Limón’s lost works Redes (1951) and El Grito (1952).
While core elements of Limón’s distinctive style (such as the emphasis on weight, breath, and planes) are unmistakable in the piece, Farrish affirms her aptitude as a choreographer by not just replicating common movements but absorbing the essence of Limón’s choreographic vision and playing it to a contemporary audience on her own terms.t
With a robust movement vocabulary and a keen understanding of the cumulative power of bodies on stage, she draws on Limón’s legacy to craft something that both preserves tradition and speaks to the present moment.
The next piece, Two Ecstatic Themes, is a short two-part solo created in 1931 by Doris Humphrey that explores contrasting states of being – surrender and striving.
The first part, designed to convey a feeling of acquiescence, is marked by a gentle, lyrical quality. It features repetitive circular and spiral movements that, performed fixed at center stage, give the impression of a jewelry box dancer, as if hinting at some sort of existential entrapment.
In contrast, the second part is marked by a heightened physicality and a clearer sense of purpose. Intended to convey a feeling of aggressive achievement, the movements in this section are more angular and forceful.
While this piece, flawlessly performed by Jessica Sgambelluri, was visually striking, I couldn’t help but feel it’s more abstract, less narrative-driven style undermined its emotional punch. I couldn’t say exactly what, but it just left me wanting more.
The fifth and final piece on the program was Limón’s 1958 masterwork Missa Brevis. Less about a narrative arc than impact, Missa Brevis is a six-part, 30-minute exploration into the search for hope and meaning in the wake of devastation.
The piece unfolds like a slow burn, building in emotional charge and drawing the audience in further with each passing section. While watching, I was pulled into a sort of meditative trance where by the end even the smallest gestures seemed monumental.
A dance transcending verbal expression, indeed.
Featured Photo of Limón Dance Company in José Limón’s Missa Brevis. Photo by Hisae Aihara.
