Ce site Web a des limites de navigation. Il est recommandé d'utiliser un navigateur comme Edge, Chrome, Safari ou Firefox.

Heart to Heart

On Tuesday evening February 22, 2022, Israeli dance ensemble L-E-V brought “Chapter 3: The Brutal Journey of the Heart” to the dance-obsessed audiences of New York’s the Joyce Theater. Founded by co-artistic directors Sharon Eyal and Gai Behar, L-E-V traces a lineage from Batsheva Dance Company, where Eyal was both a dancer and later associate artistic director and house choreographer, and Tel Aviv nightlife, where Behar has been both a party producer and curator. “Chapter 3” held both of these influences in close proximity while also showcasing very talented dancers in Eyal’s ultra-specific, dance language. 

Performance

L-E-V: “Chapter 3: The Brutal Journey of the Heart” by Sharon Eyal

Place

The Joyce Theater, New York, NY, February 22, 2022

Words

Candice Thompson

L-E-V perform “Chapter 3: The Brutal Journey of the Heart” by Sharon Eyal. Photograph by Stefan Dottor for Dior

subscribe to the latest in dance


“Uncommonly intelligent, substantial coverage.”

Your weekly source for world-class dance reviews, interviews, articles, and more.

Already a paid subscriber? Login

What felt like a series of vignettes—set to a shifting score of popular songs and electronic music created by musician and DJ Ori Lichtik—began with dancer Karen Lurie Pardes center stage, doing a salsa in a tight circle around herself. With hips and shoulders popping up and down, side to side, and heels lifted up high, she shifted her weight forward and backward to the beat. Two more dancers joined her, heels up as they wandered onstage backward and charted their own quarter turns with small syncopated steps. Eventually three more dancers arrived, all six of them dressed in flesh toned unitards by Maria Grazia Chiuri of Christian Dior Couture that looked like they were tattooed. A very red heart jumped out on their chests.

Their hands grasped at their own necks and chins, but despite the rhythm of their legs and this very human gesture, they moved more like creatures. Perhaps this was due to their extreme posture: back arched, ribcage open, head forward, and arms flung back far behind them in a hyperextended position similar to that of a preening bird. When the music shifted to a Blues-style ballad, the dancers explored more grounded positions. They bent deep in wide second positions, their arms stirring the air in front of them. This set up a contrast between high and low that would continue to alternate throughout the work. Though they danced mostly in unison, with the exception of short solos, they seemed to be isolated on their own little islands.

L-E-V perform “Chapter 3: The Brutal Journey of the Heart” by Sharon Eyal. Photograph by Stefan Dottor for Dior

For the rest of the show, about fifty minutes or so, all six dancers remained onstage and fully present. Their artistry and endurance was engaging and impressive even when the vocabulary had grown overly repetitive. They moved around the stage as one throbbing clump of bodies. At times their movements added a layer of Bob Fosse to their foundation of Gaga technique: they twinkled jazz hands, their backs still arched, heels forever up on releve, and created a cabaret-like atmosphere with their vogueing arms caressing and framing their faces. They pulsed in and out of new formations, most often a semi-circle that expanded and contracted. Close together, they clutched their necks, chests, diaphragms as Clyde Emmanuel Archer audibly counted and cued them from the back of the group. Eventually their legs began to reach out in gorgeous extensions, only to snap back in. Among the motifs, one that stood out was performed by Pardes, once again in the center, surrounded by the other five: one hand to her heart, the other fist raised, trembling.

While the repetition of these key phrases and motifs did create a sense of ritual and return, the larger arc of what was happening and why they were so tormented remained unclear. For a work subtitled “The Brutal Journey of the Heart,” there was little sense of any love relationships among the dancers much less going on a journey from one emotional state to another. They hardly looked one another in the eye and mostly focused their defiant attention out toward the audience. The result was fragmented and shallow; glimpses of visceral pain and pleasure, performed through the dancers’ contortions. But where was the source of that pain or that pleasure . . . was there ever love?

L-E-V in unitards by Maria Grazia Chiuri of Christian Dior Couture for “Chapter 3: The Brutal Journey of the Heart” by Sharon Eyal. Photograph by Stefan Dottor for Dior

When they did partner, which was rare, the choreography seemed to indicate mere physical encounters. For example, when two men finally came together in an intimate embrace, they simply turned in circles, propelled by the percussive thrusts of their hips. It was a moment in time that dissolved quickly, without history or future. In short, it didn’t speak to the heart nor did it leave much to agonize over.

Even though “Chapter 3” is part of a trilogy, following up on “OCD Love” and “Love Chapter 2,” it was presented as a stand alone work. Yet, I couldn’t help feeling I was missing something, some necessary back story or subtext, in my lack of familiarity with those first two works.

In the program, there seemed to be a clue. Eyal wrote: “Moment. Silence. Dryness. Emptiness. Fear. Wholeness. Concealment. Longing. Black. Moon. Water. Corner. Smell. Demon. Gap. Coldness. Eyes. Intension. Impulse. Fold. Hideout. Color. Lis. Salt. huge. Side. Stitches. Love. Point.” Above this list was a quote from Hanya Yanagihara’s Little Life about damage and loss. While these notes offered some window about the choreographer’s intention to showcase brokenness, they did little to add meaning to the experience of watching “Chapter 3.” The dancers were clearly feeling deeply but even so, as an observer, it was hard to get beyond mere spectating. I was ready to go on a heartbreaking journey with them, unfortunately, the audience wasn’t brought along.

Candice Thompson


Candice Thompson has been working in and around live art for over two decades. She was a dancer with Milwaukee Ballet before moving into costume design, movement education and direction, editing and arts writing. She attended New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts, graduated from St. Mary’s College LEAP Program, and later received an MFA in literary nonfiction from Columbia University. She has written extensively about dance for publications like Andscape, The Brooklyn Rail, Dance magazine, and ArtsATL, in addition to being editorial director for DIYdancer, a project-based media company she co-founded.

comments

Featured

In Phase
REVIEWS | Emily May

In Phase

As the fight for greater visibility for women choreographers continues, it was encouraging to see Carlos Acosta, director of Birmingham Royal Ballet, commission an all-female creative team for “Luna,” the final piece in his trilogy celebrating the company’s hometown.

Plus
Puppet Master
REVIEWS | Mindy Aloff

Puppet Master

He is the love of your life. You are his one-and-only. The pair of you is doomed: Obligations to the social order make your relationship impossible. The only way out—double suicide. Actually, this being eighteenth-century Japan, you let him literally do it all; still, you are his forever and there is no turning back.

Plus
“Jérôme Bel”
REVIEWS | Karen Hildebrand

“Jérôme Bel”

Measured against his own criteria, French dance maker Jérôme Bel would seem a failure. In the eponymously named show that opened the L’Alliance New York Crossing the Line Festival last week, Bel professes he has no desire to entertain an audience.

Plus
With Humor and Flair
REVIEWS | Rachel Howard

With Humor and Flair

It’s a new era at Smuin Contemporary Ballet, but incoming artistic director Amy Seiwert was still invoking her old boss pre-curtain as the company toured its first program under her leadership to the San Francisco suburb of Walnut Creek.

FREE ARTICLE
Good Subscription Agency