That boisterousovation followed the stylish and heartfelt fireworks of 24-year-old TimothyO'Donnell's Bolero, Let There Be Light. The dancers began bycovering their mouths with one hand as we listened to recorded text, notablyGeorge Carlin riffing that institutional religion, to maintain power, haspersuaded billions that an invisible old man keeps lists of every move theymake. The dance that followed was exhilarating. Bare-chested males began asnaïve tabula rasa; one fell from light; the sign of the cross and flutteringhands became dance vocabulary; couples defiantly executed treacherouspartnering. O'Donnell, an Australian, will always be welcome here.
Happily, Luc Vanier,a Canadian, already lives here. The town should embrace his painstakingexperiments in the connectedness of bodies and computers, of life and video games.His Sur_Rendered ranks among the mostserious and forward-looking artworks I've seen. For his refusal to allow hisgorgeous projected animations to overshadow the dancers; for giving themcontrol, making them collaborators, and celebrating their individuality; forthe fragility and courage projected by the solo dancer in the rocking shoe; andfor his taste in music: Hallelujah!
Salvatore Aiello's Clowns and Others is a gleaming,Fellini-like carnival of human follies by a bighearted showman, set to a Prokofievpiano score that was beautifully played by Steven Ayers, with great lightingand costumes and laugh-out-loud jokes.
