Unfortunately, the good vibes generated by Forsythe’s witty opener were quashed by the US premiere of “The Point Being”—the worst piece I’ve seen in a very long time. Former NDT dancers Imre van Opstal and Marne van Opstal (siblings) choreographed this endless exercise in nothingness, in collaboration with Dutch designer Lonneke Gordijn and DRIFT, who did the pointless sets and dim lighting. All the tritest contemporary trends were on display here, and not much else. There were blah beige costumes, searchlights, random smoke effects, and dimly lit hanging things that ascended and descended for no apparent reason. The score, by Amos Ben-Tal/OFFprojects, was also on trend in the worst way: simple guitar refrains and string chords were set against clanging noises, gongs, train-engine chugging, and airport tarmac droning. The choreography was a derivative grab bag of slow walking, exaggeratedly turned in feet, odd head angles, tweaky fits, cradled lifts, lurking, and everyone’s current favorite: group tableaux with held hands and half-hugs and stoic faces. I haven’t walked out of anything yet as a reviewer, but I had a hard time staying in my seat for this one.
When a couple started to reprise their insipid opening pas de deux there was audible groaning and wiggling in the seats all around me. This repeat was torture; we hadn’t come to a new place or understanding, it was just more of the self-important same. The addition of slomo piggyback ride sure didn’t help. We were finally put out of our misery when this pair turned away from each other while holding hands and started walking offstage as the curtain came down, how original. The spa music didn’t even have an ending, the volume simply faded out. Woof. I must report that a faction of the audience stood and cheered during the bows. I, however, fantasized about throwing tomatoes. Rest assured, I would never. You can’t blame dancers for bad ballets. And one dancer in particular—Kele Roberson—was so dynamically coordinated that whenever he was noodling around onstage at least there was a watchable element.
Thanks, I prefer reading you to the NY Times. I feel like I was there. The description of Forsythe’s work is wonderfully clear.