Dance Kaleidoscope: Two choreographed perspectives on 'Romeo and Juliet' open the New Year

"Sweet Sorrow": Justin Rainey, Emily Dyson

Art can have so much resonance with current American anxieties, even when we turn to the arts to provide welcome distractions.

Heard on the first anniversary of the attack on the U.S. Capitol, the well-known prologue to  "Romeo and Juliet"  rang an eerie alarm. It reminds us that an old feud between the Capulets and the Montagues in long-ago Verona, Italy, presents a "new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean." 

Though focused on the tragic outcome of one couple's forbidden love, hanging over "Romeo and Juliet" is a story of the breakdown of community. That affair is central to Shakespeare's play, but the peril to civic tranquility is a strong theme.

Those words were recited, along with the final couplet of the romantic tragedy,  on Thursday night as Dance Kaleidoscope opened "Star-Crossed Lovers," a program of two works based on the play, one of them a premiere. It was an inspiring choice to introduce the program with the prologue, given clarion focus opening night (and for the next two performances) by Kelsey Johnson of the Indianapolis Shakespeare Company.

The play, a favorite of many for generations,  provides the occasion for two dance interpretations. One of

Paige Robinson in Hochoy's ethereal "Romeo and Juliet Fantasy"

them, by artistic director David Hochoy, dates from 2012.  His "Romeo and Juliet Fantasy" takes its music and its title from Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet Fantasy-Overture. The new work is by Stuart Coleman, who was appointed DK's associate artistic director last year. Modernizing the story and the characters at Hochoy's suggestion, Coleman reassigns a few of the roles in tribute to gender fluidity's claim to reinforce full-spectrum humanity.

As a choreographer, Coleman has never struck me as caught up in modernist irony, so his embrace of new aspects of this story never seemed to be a critique of the play. On the contrary, he is a wholehearted romantic, forgivably sentimental at times,  and seems particularly gifted at finding fresh ways to tell stories in dance. "Sweet Sorrow," whose title comes from Juliet's farewell at the end of the Balcony Scene ("Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say good night till it be morrow") also demonstrates how well Coleman knits character into narrative. 

For instance, a love duet for the newly smitten couple places their inflamed passion in a context of doubt and apprehension. Embraces have tucked into them anxious looks away, hints of hesitation at the dangerous prospects ahead. Coleman's casting seems perfect: company newcomer Justin Rainey and six-season member Marie Kuhns showed a partnership as solid as if it had been a long time in the making. The resolve of each dancer in character made the tragedy they face especially poignant. The emotions may be mixed, but are held in control by physical dauntlessness.

I liked Coleman's fading away from narrative responsibilities near the end. The accidental suicide of the couple in the tomb is quickly sealed by their last, floor-bound embrace. All the miscommunication that locks in their failure to progress toward happiness is elided. The good-hearted but misdirected Friar Laurence is a nonentity in "Sweet Sorrow."  

Benvolio and the Nurse join hands in determination that something good  may come out of the lovers' demise.

In that death scene, a tableau gradually coalesces of mourners representing both sides of the feud in solemn array. Effecting the rapprochement are Juliet's nurse (Manuel Valdes) and Romeo's friend Benvolio (Holly Harkins). A few twitches of residual hostility and frustration among some of the Veronese were put to symbolic rest by Benvolio's firm but calming gestures. Once again, Coleman's design showed its sure hand in bringing out the enduring values of a community capable of healing after much strife. 

Staging had moments of spectacle when appropriate. Laura E. Glover's lighting, which DK fans have long treasured as an essential component of its repertoire, came to Lord Capulet's party fully prepared. The brilliance of Erica Johnston's costumes, which reinforced the gender-fluid production aspect as needed, got full support from group movement during the revels. The music pulsated with disco intensity, part of a selection of music throughout that was keen to the mood of each scene, starting with an adaptation of Prokofiev's masterly treatment of the story against a suspended geometric set of thin lines suggesting conflict. Amid the roiling collective energy at the party, the quickly engaged mutual attraction of Romeo and Juliet has a vividness in this show that almost seems surprising, given that we all know it's coming. 

A special benefit of Coleman's unconventional gender assignment is his casting of Natalie Clevenger as Tybalt, Juliet's cousin and the kind of spark plug every feud needs in order to rekindle from time to time. As impressive as her ferocity was as a living hothead, my favorite scene was Tybalt's posthumous appearance  to the lovers; the ache of what his death represents in the play could not be described better than in the way Tybalt, with ghostly firmness,  indicates that this love will not last. For all their declarations, Romeo and Juliet are our culture's chief reminder that what may seem imperishable about love always must be given a perishable incarnation. The pas de trois for Clevenger, Rainey, and Kuhns is a scene I'll remember for a long time for its imaginative underlining of this truth.

Hochoy's piece was worth visiting again for its elegant flow and its sustained distribution of the essential story among four couples, one of whom represents parental desire for restraint and control of the mad fancies of youth. "Romeo and Juliet Fantasy" takes cues from Tchaikovsky's heart-melting score about the ebbs and swells of the doomed loved affair, seen with prismatic clarity. There is a fine realization of the mistakes that characterize the death scene, resulting in the demise of each lover in succession. The choreography honors the sweep and majestic conclusion well-known from Tchaikovsky's music. 

Cheryl Sparks' costumes and Glover's lighting complement the often balletic language of the choreography. Coolness and classical reserve never inhibit the emotional fervor. The inevitable separation of the lovers  is just as poignantly realized as in Coleman's piece, but in a much different fashion. These two treatments of "Romeo and Juliet" work well together, such that "Star-Crossed Lovers" is a great presentation of the current state of this reliably excellent company.

[Photos by Lora Olive]