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I started with Program 2; before the curtain rose, K.T. Nelson came on stage to announce a program change due to injury. What we enjoyed was Kimi Okada’s Lip Service adapted from an earlier ODC dance; K.T. Nelson’s Shenanigan’s to Darius Milhaud’s Scarmouche Suite; the Third Movement of Brenda Way’s Part of a Longer Story to the third movement of Mozart’s heavenly Clarinet Concerto in A and On a Train Heading South, to Jack Perla’s commissioned score. A similar curtain announcement by Brenda Way occurred for Program 1.

ODC’s choreography is not easily translated to other groups; it is crafted on the eleven company bodies present at any one time. Impact and amusement is derived from the subtle, as well as the obvious, juxtapositions body silhouettes can create. Persons inhabiting those bodies, ‘can do’ in spirit to their finger tips, have technical accomplishments vying in excellence with the ability to thrust their bodies into serried ranks of awkward positions, unusual lifts and jaw-dropping challenges. The choreographers are definitely interested in the human condition, sometimes its dilemmas, grim to varying comic degree. The practice of a classic line has come to be honored underneath, surfacing from time to time as the stabilizing thread; this trend is the result of company evolution and, everywhere, the increased classical schooling in modern dance training.

While all three ODC choreographers are interested in human behavior, Okada’s observations of monkey see, monkey do collective behavior and follow-the-leader slavish imitation in Lip Service was achieved mostly by the company’s stomps in various directions, sporting various costumes, minimal to tie and suit. Stomping was horizontal on stage until one member decided to change direction; the rest followed. If diagonal, everyone changed to the diagonal. Finally two lines of assorted sexes confronted each other about a yard apart. Utter silence; wary inspection; a chortling relief, a turn to depart; stop, another look, another laugh. Another turn, comments followed, fingers pointed. Frowns appeared, voices escalated in pitch and cacophony; physical contact ensued. There were huddles, encounters, second huddles, a head rose, a head pushed down; two genders from opposite camps met, kissed and chugged off stage. The finale witnessed a clump, questioning eyes facing the audience; quick blackout.

K. T. Nelson’s Shenanigans, like Lip Service, performed both evenings by Anne Zivolich and Private Freeman, retiring from the company this year to pursue other interests, brings the Society Couple from Lew Christensen’s Filling Station up to date. Sober but zany, their individual and gradual collaboration is antic. Zivolich’s half allows Freeman to be debonair, condescending if accommodating, ultimately capitulating to Zivolich’s whimsy, athletically clowning method of stalking him.
 

Brenda Way’s On a Train Heading South relates the dilemma of a modern day Cassandra, danced with compelling conviction by Anne Zivolich as she attempts to harness the group to the vision which consumes her. She is worked over, by one ensemble after the other, while the other women in the group cannily dance and play for survival, not to challenge the group. At times I was reminded of two Tennessee Williams’ heroines: Blanche du Bois and Maggy, the Cat. The latter is enforced by the pas de deux between Private Freeman and Brian Fisher,who also retires this year. The rapport between the two men has never been more harmonious or more sculptural; they shared an Izzy Award for Ensemble Performance in 2000-2001. The ending, three women silhouetted upstage left, Zivolich stomach to floor, fingers marking an obsessive semi- circle before the audience with the remaining figures blandly moving about, will linger long in my memory. Zivolich is nominated for a 2005 season individual Izzy award.

Program I also included Time Remaining, Brenda Way’s commentary on fashion’s mental straight jacket and the Svengali influence of a designer, danced by Private Freeman with model- victim Andrea Flores, a full-bodied former dancer in San Francisco and Lines Ballets. The work seemed a bit disjointed, but, then, so is the process of fad-driven fashion and the current day Merlins who shape our sartorial existence.

Program II’s changes gave us the Third Movement of Part of a Longer Story, showcasing Brian Fisher’s diagrammatic classicism show with Justin Flores, Corey Brady, Anna Zivolich and Elizabeth Farotte. Program I finished with the full concerto, including Joanna Berman as guest artist with Private Freeman in the second movement. I will miss Fisher’s textbook clarity.

Way knows a great deal about physical love, exploring surges and hesitations in its contact. In Berman and Freeman Way enjoyed marvelous illustrators of her choreographic vocabulary, hands against the body, fingers spread in startled awe, torsos, heads in arcs, bends, thighs raised in modern passes, backs touching or bodies parallel. Berman, dancing in flexible black flats, has lost little in dramatic projection, fluidity of motion or sureness in her port de bras. Like the other women, she was dressed in black, trousered and a squared top camisole, and looked gorgeous. Freeman ranged well against her, both life affirming figures, an admirable pairing, unfortunately unlikely to be seen together again.

ODC’s principal lighting designer is Alexander V. Nichols. (sister: Kyra Nichols.) with Thomas Kline; Costuming credits listed Cassandra Carpenter; Mary Domenico and Brenda Way.