BWW Reviews: PAUL TAYLOR DANCE COMPANY Delights at Lincoln Center

To capture the American idiom through an art form demands brazen courage, and a rare will dedicated to a lifetime of unapologetic originality. Paul Taylor is one of the few artists alive to tell the tale under a spotlight of unparalleled renown.

While the shadow of most choreographers runs deep in the presence of the dancers, markedly apparent onstage, Taylor is a master of creative freedom. If the late American dance pioneer Denise Jefferson made artists, Paul Taylor makes artists free.

At the gala performance of the Paul Taylor Dance Company at Lincoln Center, the largely black-tie audience blithely seated themselves after cocktails, a good fifteen minutes past the scheduled opening.

A mere seven rows from the orchestra sat the patron himself, quite unassumingly (and as a matter of fact, immediately to the left of yours truly). Yes. The 2,586-seat, five-ringed, gold-ceilinged theater is named after the very wealthiest resident of New York.

On to the show...

Company B eased and swayed with all the catchy lovability of gold standards, sung gorgeously through vintage recordings of The Andrew Sisters. Dancer Francisco Graciano exhibited a virtuosic talent for the charm of popular culture at the cusp of its greatest boom.

As the iconic vintage sound of The Andrews Sisters rang clear through the opulent hall. songs such as Oh Jonny, Oh Jonny, Oh! and Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy were choreographed thematically to the lyric narratives. Dancer Michelle Fleet turned out a stellar solo performance to I Can Dream, Can't I, desperate with American idealism.

The naïve, and self-confident values of prewar Americans exuded through Company B, tastefully costumed by Santo Loquasto. The three choreographic works by Taylor were ingeniously curated for the gala performance.

Opening with the relative, and the familiar, Troilus and Cressida followed, evoking a satirical disillusionment for romance. The unmistakable American character still shone through the singularly Shakespearian penchant for wild irreverence.

With an absolutely fantastic, gorgeous set by Santo Loquasto, the entire backdrop of the theater displayed a rich antediluvian world, hearkening back to the spritely, and demonic, sylvan escapade.

Dancer Parisa Khobdeh stole the show, as Cressida, in a reduced version of the comic masterpiece reimagined in the exuberant and unpretentious mind of Taylor.
Finally, the Orchestra of St. Luke's enlightened the grandiose acoustics with the inimitable harmonies of Bach's Brandenburgs, after the name of the concertos performed.

Depicting the archetypal human form, as in a more classical style, Taylor's choreographic magic was realized boldly in Brandenburgs. Michael Trusnovec triumphed in spare, though sculpted poses, while Khobdeh moved with a stunning grace, distinctly perfect for the lofty solemnity of the air.

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