Dispatches From the Edge

Photo By Bret Brookshire

The Grid (or: Beyond the Wishing Well)

Running Time: 45 min

Toni Bravo is not the most imposing creature on the planet. But dancing -- or even standing still -- she is monumental. Her movement isn't so much assured as it is impeccable; her artistry and attention to physical detail are equally sublime. Watching her dance is like seeing a compact compendium of the world played out with grace and power. In "El Olvido Quema," the first of four dance pieces that make up The Grid, Bravo's three-part dance recalls with a Latin flair a deeper story of a woman pursued by her lover or, perhaps, lovers. Bravo dances alone, but the presence of others is palpable. The choreographer never allows a gesture to become literal; everything remains highly provocative but esoteric. So there is joy and energy in her movements from which a haunting story emerges. And her attention is so sharp, full of pinpoint glances and a range of emotions that are subtle, yet loud: aloofness, wariness, trust, fear, and Bravo's delightful sensuality.

The other three pieces also tell stories, but perhaps without the impact or subtlety of Bravo's solo. "When He Leaves ... When Does It Stop?," which Bravo choreographed, sees two dancers connected by a rope, one wanting to play, the other restrained. Over time, Chica Aluka and Leona Dixon seem to find equity, switch roles, and the dance fades as it implies that this exchange will be played out all over again.

MariJayd O'Connor's "American Goulash" is a lighthearted piece, full of rather standard liberal sentiments that O'Connor plays with, never allowing herself to take any of it too seriously, culminating in a little bit of audience interplay as she quizzes the house on its knowledge of state capitals. The long and thin O'Connor looks like she's having a good time, and her parting smile is infectious.

The final piece, "Torpor or Dream," is more tribal, with Bao Khang Luu and choreographer Tony Cusimano in a confrontational male first movement, followed by Cusimano repeating a series of gestures that offer a parent-child relationship that begins sweetly but sees child drifting from parent. Members of the ensemble take turns striding past Cusimano, halting to paint his face in black and white stripes. Finally, the whole company participates in the finale, the staging of which allows for a cascading effect rather than simultaneity, which allows the performers to stretch and fall and roll and maintain a sense of "group," even when slightly out of synch. (Sunday, Feb. 4, 1:15pm)