IMPRESSIONS: The Martha Graham Dance Company's "Americana" at The Joyce Theater

Program B seen Wednesday, April 9 & CAVE (April 2 & 5, 2025)
Dancers: Dancers: Lloyd Knight, Xin Ying, Leslie Andrea Williams, Anne Souder, Laurel Dalley-Smith, So Young An, Richard Villaverde, Devin Loh, Antonio Leone, Meagan King, Ane Arrieta, Zachary Jeppsen, Amanda Moreira, Jai Perez and Ethan Palma
Choreography: Martha Graham, Agnes De Mille, Virginie Mécène-after Martha Graham, Jamar Roberts and Hofesh Schecter (CAVE)
Music: Louis Horst, Aaron Copland (Bluegrass arrangement by Gabriel Witcher), Judith Shatin,Rhiannon Giddens, Âme and Hofesh Shecter
Set Design/Stage Design: Isamu Noguchi and Beowulf Boritt
Hofesh Shechter’s CAVE, which the Martha Graham Dance Company first presented at New York City Center three years ago, rouses one’s dancing muscles in an ode to rave and nightclub culture. At least, it tries to. Co-produced by and starring Daniil Simkin, the work back then tore across the big space with a feverish pulse, but the first of this season's renditions made me miss Simkin and the energy he infused.
The Graham company’s performance of this dance at the considerably smaller Joyce Theater, on April 2, made me think of a public viewing with the piece itself in an open casket. It seemed never-ending. Imagine my surprise when just a few days later — on April 5 — I was electrified and swinging in my seat watching the very same dancers. How did that happen? As a performer I can empathize: on the second night of a season, the dancers’ energy simply isn’t at its peak. Having to adjust to a smaller stage space also means negotiating step patterns; and such calculation
What I enjoy most about CAVE, which concluded programs A and C this season, is that the dancers do not perform for the audience, but enjoy dancing as part of a group. They seem to perform solo passages for one another. As an audience member, one feels invited to participate rather than being danced at. An almost meditative unison sequence during which the performers catch their breath makes me smile blissful

After another of artistic director Janet Eilber’s insightful curtain speeches, Program B opens on dancer Ane Arrieta in Graham’s 1935 Americana solo Frontier. Graha
A collaboration with Graham’s mentor, composer Louis Horst, Frontier also marks the first time Graham used a set. She turned to sculptor Isamu Noguchi, who — through his long-time affiliation with the choreographer — became one of the most noted stage and set designers of the 20th century.
I am struck by how a centrally placed piece of fence, made from a log and two ropes climbing diagonally to reach the sky, transforms the Joyce Theater into the wide, open prairie. The fence becomes a gate to the future. Choreographically, Graham shows the pioneer woman’s determination through a relentless repetition of dance phrases. A raised leg pierces the space and seems to stretch it. Yet, after each exploration, Arrieta returns to austere contemplation. The pink hue of her dress suffuses the severe environment with a sense of hope. This dancer first drew attention as a member of Graham 2 (the company’s studio ensemble), when performing an equally gripping solo, Glass, by choreographer Lorn MacDougal. Now Arrieta intrigues me with her multi-faceted emotions that render the heroine of Fro

In contrast to Graham’s lonely Frontier, A
Laurel Dalley Smith, as The Cowgirl, strikes all the right notes, and her comic timing delights when the imaginary horse under her bucks. At first eager to be accepted as one of the gang, when dressed in pants and a cowboy hat, she surely enjoys the attention both The Champion Roper (Richard Villaverde) and The Head Wrangler (Lloyd Knight) pay to her the moment she dons a dress. She is out to enjoy herself, and eventually succumbs to Villaverde, whose pursuit includes a show-off tap dance sequence that makes the sun shine and hearts melt. Knight, who had transferred his attention to The Cowgirl after initially wooing The Ranch Owner’s Daughter (Leslie Andrea Williams), won’t have trouble spreading his charm and cheer in other places. Deliciously - because deliberately - corny, Rodeo ho

After intermission, two fascinating

Choreographer Jamar Roberts’s We The People cleverly juxtaposes solo and group sections, but is repetitive in structure and devoid of spatial curiosity. Silent solos of protest and lament reach powerfully across the footlights. On the other hand the groups that travel downstage in lines of three relentlessly confront the audience with dynamically stagnant movement set to eight-count phrases. These sections grow tiresome, and fail to make the desired impact of a people’s uprising. Having had one’s fill of country music with Rodeo, the music by Rhiannon Giddens (also arranged by Gabe Witcher) sounds too similar to be suitable for one program.

Thankfully, the Graham dancers maintain a high energy level and their enduring enthusiasm carr