Circles of light spun around the Landmark Theatre, illuminating the ornate walls and faces of audience members, as if a disco ball had descended from the ceiling.

But the light was instead coming from a number of mirrors affixed to dancers’ heads, as members of the acclaimed Paul Taylor Dance Company took the stage Wednesday for a night of modern dance.

The performance was not for fans of traditional dance, like ballet, but for those looking for dance to tell a story, to paint a picture using everything from head mirrors to flinging oneself down on the stage as a portrayal of death.

‘I loved the movement and costumes,’ said Courtney Taddonio, a sophomore advertising major and dancer. ‘I don’t do modern dancing, but I really like watching it.’

Taylor, a former Syracuse University student, started the company in 1954 and has since become a nationally renowned dancer. This is the second time he has brought his dancers to SU, the first of which was in April 2006 where he premiered an original work.

The night was broken up into three parts, during which each separate dance told a different story, evoked a different mood.

Monkey-like arm movements opened up the first act, drawing laughs from audience members who ranged from aspiring young dancers to older folks looking for a night at the theater.

During the most abstract dance, bongos and strings provided the backdrop for an abrupt, animalistic-like movements by the dancers. The girls’ ankle-length dresses billowing around them, large head mirrors atop their heads as they spun light across the crowd.

It played out like a courting ritual, the girls on one side and the guys on the other, somersaulting off each others’ backs and doing a backward kickline, only interacting with each other for the briefest of moments, to the bang of a drum.

‘The first one was really abstract,’ said Jennie Gallagher, a Syracuse resident. ‘I didn’t really like it that much. I didn’t recognize many of the dances they were doing.’

If the first dance failed to set a tone, the second left the audience in stunned silence.

Entitled ‘Banquet of Vultures,’ this political-themed performance embraced the dramatic, the curtain drawing back to reveal a pitch-black stage with flames flickering across the floor.

The dancers came to life as the music kicked in, high-pitched strings like something out of a horror movie. Dressed in camouflage, groups of three danced together as if one mass entity, limbs reaching out everywhere, while others with flames ran on and off stage.

A lone male dancer dressed in a suit with a glaring red tie took the stage with the rest of the dancers, acting as the enemy. The others in camo circled him hunched over as he ‘killed’ them one by one with a swift chop of the hand to their back.

The deaths were almost avenged as the suited dancer flung himself down on the stage in a gut-wrenching death scene, his body hitting the floor with loud thuds. But he prevailed in the end, blowing out the last flickering light with another blow to the back.

‘The second one was amazing, it really told a charged political story,’ said Gallagher, a long-time dancer. ‘It was easy to follow, and there was a lot more dancing to it.’

A more traditional dance ended the show, with a lot of partners performing recognizable ballet moves.

It began once again with the guys, clad in pinstripe pants and tank tops, on one side and the girls, in shorter dresses and thigh-high tights, on opposite sides of the staging, flirting with each other through dance.

They came together in a complex mix of tango and Spanish dancing, reminiscent of ‘West Side Story’ with its leaps and in-sync dancing.

The highlight of the dance was a performance by two male dancers, who appeared to be ‘dancing drunk’ as they stumbled and tumbled around the stage and even over each other. The audience laughed at their graceful clumsiness, and the two received loud applause and yells when they bowed at the end of the show.

A mixture of abstract and traditional moves define Taylor’s unique choreography style, as the dancers sought to give meaning to their motions, no matter how strange.

‘The choreography really told a story,’ said Laura DePalma, an undecided freshman in The College of Arts and Sciences. ‘And that’s what every dancer’s goal is, to tell a story.’

eaconnor@syr.edu

Published on March 26, 2008 at 12:00 pm