© Robert Shomler 'House of Tears' reviews 'Death and Eros' reviews 'District Storyville' reviews Meijer in reviews Mahler in reviews recent Ballet San Jose reviews more Renee Renouf reviews

The program included a pre-performance talk by McKayle himself, up from his position on University of California, Irvine's dance faculty. Now a grand old man of modern dance, his comments were articulate, filled with imagery delivered in a voice resonant and commanding. As his memoir, on sale during this program, testifies McKayle experienced the best,yeastiest of times in the world of modern dance and the movement towards social equity in the society at large, and in the theatre.He was asked to introduce each work, which he accomplished eloquently.

House of Tears (1992)

House of Tears was inspired by McKayle’s visit to Argentina and seeing Los Madres, white scarves around their heads, circling the obelisk in the Plaza de Mayo in front of the Government buildings in Buenos Aires, many wearing a photograph on their chest. The images are among the thousands lost in ‘the process’, abducted to prisons, torture and execution. In the Philippines a similar history occurred but was called ‘salvaging,’ with lifeless bodies found in the morning, or vanished.

The décor included a papel piccado web hanging, punctuated with photographs Of children, men and women who had disappeared in ‘the process’. It was a potent statement, supporting the themecogently.

Karen Gabay (center being held aloft) as "The Spirit of Argentina"
in Donald McKayle's House of Tears
Photograph by Robert Shomler ©

Ramon Moreno gave an excellent, brief portrait of a prisoner being tortured with electric shocks, methods perhaps learned in a special instruction camp somewhere on the extended isthmus between North and South America where instructors were Gringos.

Using Piazzolla’s urgent tango composition was both fitting and a little anomalous. Certainly the rhythm and its emphasis provided an expressive base for the movement. Yet in the Third Movement, where the people accused The General, the weighted quality of the crimes against Humanity was not underlined or extended by the music, although Piazzolla’s patterns gave a wonderful sweeping element to spark movement. The General was well danced by Ivan Bielik, tall, impersonal and unmoved, displaying wonderfully pointed feet in his variation. Alas, the shortness of the music never convinced me he was suitably sentenced for his edicts of abduction, torture, death.

Sayaka Tai lent an iconic note as The Spirit of Argentina, manhandled by the Army,rescued by the women. Despite my reservations, House of Tears is an absorbing work.

Death and Eros (2000)

The eerie Inuit legend of a Skeletal Woman dragged from the sea by a fisherman, whose fear turns to pity, and whose tears bring new life to the woman, is one to entice any choreographer imbued with a sense of mystery. McKayle possesses that quality in abundance.

The legend provides material for the sea, the storm, an eerie retrieval and dance of the skeletal woman, plus the intricate, sometimes lustful, sometimes tender pas de deux by Woman Reborn and the Fisherman.

Composer Magnussen and McKayle extended the aforementioned pas de deux too long for absorption and comfort. The section where The Skeletal Woman is tugged to the surface was intriguing and fascinating; Meijer gave over to the invisible support and manipulation by Messrs. Anderson and Califono and the results held my attention.

Beth Ann Namey is "The Skeleton Woman" in Donald McKayle's Death and Eros
Photograph by Robert Shomler ©

The sections relating to the sea and the storm seemed a little stock in the use of classical technique; the costumes did nothing but jar the atmosphere. They seemed part of the clinker in this work, originally created for Lulu Washington’s company in 2000. Why did the costumes for the sea and the storm have to be shiny sky blue satin with icicles?. One shoulder halters for the sea creatures with headbands of icicles, also dripping around short tunics magnified the jarring visual tune. Keith’s undulating shadows of light asked the audience to imagine something equally flowing in tonal variations of blue and textures in the costumes. I don’t normally try to recostume a work while watching, but what I saw was at such odds with the theme it was as seductive as the insistence of the Woman Reborn, whose aggressive actions towards the fisherman made up for that underwater exile of indeterminate length

Since the Ethnic Dance Festival in San Francisco has presented Inuits dancing in their own tradition, with their furry protection, this memory made the ‘bonding’ seem far from Inuit tradition and closer to ritual mating influenced by Broadway experience. The Fisherman comes out with kyak paddles and fur garments, which he sheds to a G- string in his igloo. Are igloos that warm? Dear Mr. McKayle, take another look at the visual impact!

The dancers, by the bye, did their best for the piece, but it currently is a work of flawed potential.

District Storyville (1962)

A visit to New Orleans puts in touch with this area, a legalized prostitution area of the Crescent City,active for 15 years. It was advertised by little ‘blue books’ handed out at train stations, tobacco shops, on river boats and other places where men in search of sexual diversion might be located.

Donald McKayle’s evocation of that bygone era was one of the works helping him earn The 1983 Capezio Award, along with Games, Rainbow Round My Shoulder, Blood of the Lamb and a portrait of Harriet Tubman. District Storyville is remarkably accurate to the spirit intertwining jazz, African-American funeral practices and District Storyville where Little Lou (Louis Armstrong) grew up, bringing coal to the houses and providing other such menial functions.

Donald McKayle's District Storyville
Shown here (clockwise from top left) Maximo Califano (with trumpet), Beth Ann Namey, Willie Anderson, and Tiffany Glenn.
Photograph by John Gerbetz ©

The instruction scene is raucous, but doubtless truthful in spirit: bumps, grinds and genital emphasis shining bright. The costumes are wonderfully described in Donald McKayle’s memoirs as is the process of production, with an original cast of who’s who in the world of African-American entertainment. The Crave, between Sugar Lover and Willie the Pleaser, is alternately genuine rising passion, which seems beyond the bounds for necessary client-fille requirements, but there is an insistent little hand extended from the hip for the cash, permitting culmination to proceed. Stingaree, in silver lame with burlesque fringe underneath, shimmies, shakes and makes out with a commanding disdain.

Roni Mahler, guesting as the Countess, is diamantine as A Dragon Lady, all knowing, all seeing, reeking with impatience over insubordination. She’s a memorable wench one has to respect. Shingo Yoshimoto is marvelous as Little Lou – a bundle of energy, Sass, talent, wiggles and elevation in his jetes. It’s a pity the programming of Ballet San Jose shifts each year to new works, relegating such sure fire works to inaction for several seasons. District Storyville and Rainbow Round My Shoulder deserve more frequent appearances.