It all felt playful, like a game. The excellent dancers grinned at each other when dealing with the pedestrians’ spatial intrusions or gaping stares. At one point, Fahoury shouted “seven nine” loudly. Those are mysterious counts for dance—destabilization was the impish point. Fahoury, who left the New York City Ballet earlier this year, is relatively new to the Tanowitz universe, but he looked at home alongside her longtime collaborators Flores and Gonder. Fahoury is incredibly talented, with the ability to shapeshift between styles and genres, but he did not quite yet have the deadpan, matter-of-fact approach of the other two. He still performed a few steps—like a flexed-foot rond de jamb leaning around a circle—as if his soul was being summoned by the dance gods. I rather enjoyed his poetical interpretation of the Tanowitz deconstructions though. And the contrast between the impassive old pros and the eager rookie was fun to watch up close.
This contrast also made me think of the iconic photos of Suzanne Farrell being draped in diamonds by Balanchine and Pierre Arpels in VC&A’s Parisian showroom in 1976. I couldn’t imagine Melissa Toogood, Tanowitz’s muse, in the same kind of publicity stunt. “heart of hearts” was a good title for this dance, because Tanowitz delivered a wryly pleasant dance for a storied diamond house’s floral extravaganza—staying true to herself the whole while. I brought my children along, and I asked them afterward if they liked the dance. “Not too much,” my 6-year-old said, “I didn’t understand what it was about.” I told him it wasn’t about anything at all. He said, “oh, then they did a great job.” I agreed.
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