Dance World

Paul Taylor Premieres 'Le Grand Puppetier'

Photo: AP Click to enlarge

Paul Taylor's range and clarity of movement were on full display Tuesday night, as the celebrated choreographer presented almost 50 years worth of dance at City Center.

There was, of course, a premiere: "Le Grand Puppetier," danced to Stravinsky in a pianola version of the "Petrushka" ballet, about a puppet who comes to life. Taylor's narrative revolves around a power-hungry emperor, danced Tuesday by Richard Chen See.

Under the emperor's black scepter, all people become puppets, from his hapless subjects to his courtier, made effeminate and ridiculous by Robert Kleinendorst. Respite comes when the puppet, danced by Patrick Corbin, wrests the scepter from the emperor's grasp, and the emperor is made to do his people's bidding.

Soon enough, the puppet finds power too heavy a burden, discarding the staff to investigate his newfound humanity. The disgraced emperor slinks back on stage. As the curtain falls, Jennifer Tipton's lighting flashes and darkens dramatically, and the emperor thrusts his scepter skyward as his subjects cower in fear.

The dancing, as expected from Taylor, was exceptional. The company shifted through fluid patterns, disrupted both physically and aesthetically by Chen See, his black, militaristic outfit in contrast to the rest of Santo Loquasto's shiny satin costumes.

This darkness, however, never penetrated below the surface, leeching "Le Grand Puppetier" of the impact it might have had if given a more sinister core.

The aptly titled "Aureole," on the other hand, was entirely and perfectly luminous. Lisa Viola, Michael Trusnovec, Amy Young, Michelle Fleet and Chen See were both grounded and buoyant as they made their way through five Handel movements. A testament to both Taylor and his dancers, the 1962 work looked as though it had been created for these five bodies.

In the second early work of the night, 1956's "3 Epitaphs," Robert Rauschenberg's head-to-toe gray leotards covered an anonymous quintet. In place of facial expressions, the dancers sported small mirrors, attached to their heads, hands and feet. As they shimmied and slumped (mostly slumped) to early New Orleans jazz, the mirrors created a disco pattern across the stage, occasionally stabbing the audience with white light.

Taylor wisely kept the dance short, before the joke could wear itself thin.

The evening ended with the widely hailed 2002 work, "Promethean Fire," danced by the full, 16-member company. Taylor's intricate patterns form a dizzying complex of human architecture, worthy of the Bach to which it is set. The work has often been seen as Taylor's response to the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, but this interpretation is too limiting and pat for the sweeping dance.

In one of the most powerful moments, Taylor's patterns break down, and the dancers evacuate a large V formation to pile one on top of another at the center of the stage. From this mass of flesh, Viola and Trusnovec rise, triumphantly bathed in Tipton's lighting. As the other dancers crawl off in shadow, they create a universe of two, both formal and intimate.

Paul Taylor Dance Company presents three separate programs at City Center through March 12.

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On the Net:

Paul Taylor Dance Company: www.paultaylor.org

City Center: www.citycenter.org