Mark Morris Group Delights at the Paramount
At the point that we realized all 24 dancers from the Mark Morris Dance Group were on stage simultaneously, we were struck by two thoughts. First: holy shit 24 dancers on stage at once in a delirious, joyous romp; and second: thank god dance companies can still exist that can put 24 dancers all on stage at once. Morris' company was celebrating the 20th anniversary of his early-career classic L'Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato at the Paramount Theater this past weekend. Set to a lesser-known pastoral work by Handel, the already overwhelming treat of seeing this work in person was escalated by full accompaniment from the Seattle Symphony and Chorale members directed by maestro Gerard Schwarz.
Highlights are near-impossible to separate without cataloging the entire experience. Starting with the still-innovative set comprising fixed wings, a series of raising and lowering screens (that could create simultaneous yet separate "worlds" through which the dancers moved), and lush, saturated lighting. Then to Morris' choreography--even two decades ago already showing both his confidence and mastery of motif--a mesmerizing mix of bombastic energy interspersed with introspective moments and his trademark "cheekiness." The dancers were technically strong yet remarkably fluid and capable of transitioning effortlessly from a formal group piece packed with repetition and symmetry to a loose, swingy duet. Standout giggle moments included a number of twitchy bird-like montages and a pastoral chase through the woods with two young girls pursued by a pack of hounds. Tack on the ice cream colored spectrum of the flowy, pastel costumes and the enveloping enormity of the symphony and live singers, and by the middle of the second half we were entranced.
Despite the baroque music set to a reworked text by John Milton, and the fact that it first debuted two decades ago, L'Allegro does not feel outdated in the slightest. It encompasses a desire to return to a simpler life in the midst of an increasingly chaotic modern world. The almost sudden, swooping finish of the piece triggered a wave of euphoria and emotion as we jumped to our feet in ovation at the end, surprised to find tears in our eyes. Only once before in our life, the first time we saw Alvin Ailey's company perform Revelations, can we recall being moved to tears not by sadness but by beauty. At the after-party, where Morris was in rare form mc'ing the night's karaoke performances, we told him we'd been moved to tears, to which he responded: "Well, you should." And then he flashed a wicked, sincere smile and whooshed off to announce the next singer for the night.
