This site has limited support for your browser. We recommend switching to Edge, Chrome, Safari, or Firefox.

Strings Section

Chamber music can be fun, too! That, at least, is the apparent message that violinist Johnny Gandelsman is trying to spread in his two-hour program, “Johnny Loves Johann.” He’s certainly not wrong.

Performance

“Johnny Loves Johann” by Johnny Gandelsman, with John Heginbotham, Caili Quan, Jamar Roberts, and Melissa Toogood

Place

Joyce Theater, New York, NY, April 14, 2026

Words

Rebecca Deczynaski

Caili Quan and Johnny Gandelsman in “Johnny Loves Johann.” Photograph by Erin Baiano

The music of Johann Sebastian Bach hasn’t always been a natural choice for dance (though Balanchine and Robbins both found ways to work with it, most notably in “Concerto Barocco” and “Brandenburg”). In this program, a new crop of contemporary choreographers try their hand at interpreting the Baroque composer, to varying degrees of success. Melissa Toogood, Jamar Roberts, John Heginbotham, and Caili Quan take on Bach’s complete cello suites, as interpreted by Gandelsman.

The Cunningham-trained Toogood, who last year became the dean and director of Juilliard’s dance division, is up first, and she immediately establishes the lighthearted tone that will define the rest of the evening. There is an intentionally childlike tenor to her choreography. She flits across the stage with her arms like a kid playing airplane (a movement that others will repeat later). While Gandelsman’s playing is fluid—lending a folksy vibe to the cello suites—Toogood’s movement is rigid. She squeezes herself between Gandelsman’s legs. She stands with her nose inches away from his bow. The comedy here is apparent; Toogood’s pristine technique helps her to pull it off.

Roberts moves with a natural ease when he takes to the stage for the second suite. While swirling his arms in intricate formations, he maintains a sense of buoyancy—it’s almost like watching a beautiful scarf twirl around in the breeze. Where Toogood grounded her piece in static, sharp steps, Roberts is far more liquid and balletic, though he eschews self-seriousness. Consider, for instance, his lyrical take on the moonwalk. 

It’s hard not to watch Roberts, even when the rest of the cast joins him on stage for brief intervals in-between the solos that define the program and for the third and sixth pieces—the two full ensemble numbers. Sure, his 6’4-tall frame makes him easy to follow, but he also moves with such self-possession and grace that he’s a magnetic performer. For most of the evening, I kept waiting for each time he’d reappear. 

Jamar Roberts and Johnny Gandelsman in “Johnny Loves Johann.” Photograph by Erin Baiano

Jamar Roberts and Johnny Gandelsman in “Johnny Loves Johann.” Photograph by Erin Baiano

“Johnny Loves Johann,” ultimately, prioritizes character and clownery—which leads to moments of mime (Roberts drawing a portrait of Quan, which is revealed to be a portrait of Bach himself) and easy comedy (Heginbotham spinning into Roberts’ arms and drawing a leg up in a sassy parallel passé). 

The second half of the program, far more than the first, leans heavily into the goofiness. Heginbotham’s choreography is simple and repetitive, giving him the aura of a person simply improvising to an accompanying violin. He, like Toogood before, twirls with glee and runs with his arms outstretched. He also positions himself as a clown, interacting with the other performers, who playfully scoff at his attempts to connect. Here and there, he inserts a bit of a Broadway feel, throwing in a back essence. 

The weak point of “Johnny Loves Johann” is its overreliance on props and gimmicks, which, in Heginbotham’s number, take a far greater precedence than in any other piece. He dons a jacket with an affixed boa of yellow tissue paper fluffs, and, in synchronicity with the music, plucks them off one by one. A bit later, dancers from both sides—unseen—throw wadded up balls of the material onto the stage. 

Johnny Gandelsman and John Heginbotham in “Johnny Loves Johann.” Photograph by Erin Baiano

Johnny Gandelsman and John Heginbotham in “Johnny Loves Johann.” Photograph by Erin Baiano

Those props remain in place as Quan has her turn. Her style of movement is more lyrical and contemplative than that of her predecessors. She slinks in one of two chairs that stands on the stage, amid the yellow tufts. At one point, she hugs Gandelsman as he continues playing. At the start of another movement, Gandelsman stops playing live, as a recording pipes in, and he dances, awkwardly, with Quan. 

It’s not the only time that Gandelsman gets involved. At another point, he mimics Heginbotham’s poses, balancing on one leg while continuing to play. It’s a cute bit, if not profound.

The dancers eventually sweep away the yellow tissues, running long, wide brooms across the stage, and prepare for their final bit of the program: miming a sequence of fancy footwork as they sit on the floor, each holding a pair of white sneakers. It’s the kind of movement that a ballet dancer might do to mark a barre exercise before doing it full-out. Satisfying to watch, though not exactly innovative.

“Johann Loves Johnny” in its full two hours, starts to bend under the weight of its own length, and the jokes within it start to feel tired, dulling the impact of some truly luscious moments of movement. There are also plenty of simple passages—the dancers in pairs, swinging each other around with glee—that capture the unexpected levity of Bach’s cello suites. Still, the work as a whole feels a need to insist, rather than simply showing, what fun this music can be. Fit in-between jokes, the dancing often doesn’t get the space it needs to achieve its full potential.

Rebecca Deczynski


Rebecca Deczynski is a New York City-based writer and editor publishes the newsletter Mezzanine Society. Her work has appeared in publications including Inc., Domino, NYLON, and InStyle. She graduated from Barnard College cum laude with a degree in English and a minor in dance.

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

comments

Please note, comments must be approved before they are published

Featured

Positive Masculinity
REVIEWS | Lorna Irvine

Positive Masculinity

At a time when the roots of toxic masculinity are still being hotly debated within society (I'd argue nature and nurture aren't necessarily mutually exclusive bedfellows) the excellent “Boys Don't Dance” arrives, fully formed  at a festival for children, but with enough layers to appease any audience.

Continue Reading
We're all Mad Here
REVIEWS | Valentina Bonelli

We're all Mad Here

Just as The Wizard of Oz to the United States or Pinocchio to Italy, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is the coming-of-age novel of English childhood. The reception of Christopher Wheeldon’s ballet of the same name depends heavily on this legacy.

Continue Reading
Dancing for Chagall
REVIEWS | Kris Kosaka

Dancing for Chagall

Director and choreographer Naoya Homan’s reimagining of “Aleko,” a one-act ballet where art takes center stage, dazzles the eye with a tragic meditation on the limits of freedom.

Continue Reading
A Moving Museum 
REVIEWS | Greta Pieropan

A Moving Museum 

In “Me Time—Danza al Museo” by choreographer Camilla Monga, dance becomes a tool for deeper seeing. Through choreography, the museum becomes a space of cognitive and emotional activation. The result is an encounter that lingers long after the performance ends.  

Continue Reading
Good Subscription Agency