The Houston Ballet’s Masters of Movement is a compilation of three distinct dances, varying in style and artistic staging, representing the choreographic genius of Antony Tudor, William Forsythe and Jiri Kylian.’
The first number, ‘The Leaves are Fading,’ choreographed by Tudor, was like spending a day in the park with lovers. The music of Antonin Dvorak was wistful and lovely, and the dancers followed suite with delicate tenderness intertwined with acrobatic flexibility.’
A duet between Mireille Hassenboehler and Linnar Looris was particularly outstanding, as principal ballerina Hassenboehler mastered perhaps the most difficult choreography of the evening with assured confidence and astonishing lightness. Hassenboehler extended her limbs in ways that made the audience coo and sigh.
However, the set and costumes of ‘The Leaves are Fading’ failed to measure up to the elegance of the dance. Given the title of the piece and the music it was set to, the setting did not have to be as obvious as a curtain of leaves and an erroneous branch hanging from the ceiling.’
In stark contrast, ‘The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude,’ choreographed by Forsythe, was sharp, fast-paced and experimental. The dancers took the stage in a whirlwind of grande jet’eacute;s, kicks and cyclone-like pirouettes. Connor Walsh stole the show with his simultaneous precision and flare for the dramatic elements of the piece. When he pounced onto the stage, it seemed as though the spotlight fixated on him, and his every move seemed weightless and powerful.
The costumes, designed by Stephen Galloway, perfectly matched the contemporary feel of the piece. The women were dressed in bright green angular tutus, while the men wore backless purple leotards. The music of Franz Schubert’s ‘Symphony No. 9 in C Major’ was strong and forceful, much like the dance.
Lastly, ‘Soldiers’ Mass,’ choreographed and designed by Kylian, was a testament to the physical and emotional stress of war. The male dancers formed a group that danced in unison to create patterns reminiscent of a march in a military boot camp. The dancers started off strong and exact and then transitioned into floor-sweeping mourners, weary from the trials of war. With a series of extensions and back bends, the men faded into the floor in a poignant closing.
It was Walsh’s evening; he held the audience’s attention throughout all three pieces, demonstrating the versatility of the choreographers and the accompanying music, while exuding a creative confidence all his own.
