There are a lot of white people here. First thought. I never knew rich had a scent. Second thought. Where are the black folks? I mean I know the Alvin Ailey Dance Theater is known as the “cultural ambassadors to the world” but I felt like I was in the middle of a John McCain rally.
After the door attendant told me I was in the wrong theater (apparently “Kimmel Center Presents” printed on the ticket, doesn’t mean it’s in the Kimmel Center …hey, I’m still a Philly virgin) I walked one block down to the Academy of Music and began the “Ailey experience” for the first time. Settled in my seat with a view so close I could see the sweat fling off the dancer's heads (thanks to Kim!) a teenager bounced in his seat behind me, slowly looked around the theater as if taking a photograph of each detail and bear hugged his mom. “Thank you mom, prepare to be amazed,” he said beaming. She smiled softly and looked up at his New York Yankees baseball cap, “Take off that hat boy!”
Before a single dancer hit the stage, a large projector fell as the lights faded and the voice of Alvin Ailey boomed from the speakers to rousing applause. The 15 minute video highlighted the life of the celebrated dancer, choreographer and visionary with vignettes from his childhood and footage of the company’s amazing expansion — including a training school, an offspring company for rising talent and a dance school for kids.
Too often when the founder of a company (Arts or business) dies, their vision goes with them. Yet, 19 years after AIDS took his life Alvin Ailey has been more than a namesake throughout the company’s evolution. Pride gives way to piety as Ailey’s presence is embodied in every movement.
My favorite piece hands-down was Love Stories, a pulsating arrangement built on today’s popular dances. Judith Jamison, Ailey artistic director, said the piece is a representation of today's dance culture largely influenced by hip-hop. In comes, Rennie Harris, North Philly-born chorographer and founder of the hip-hop dance company Rennie Harris Puremovement.
The dancers traded their ballet slippers for Nike Dunks and shell toes, killing Jamaican club dances (putting video imitators to shame!) and hitting every pop-n-lock with striking precision. With a cleverly crafted mix of Stevie Wonder cuts from “Fingerprints” keeping the track, the dancers got the whole audience in the act (with help from a young Stevie telling us to “stomp yo’ feet, jump up and down, do whatever you wanna do!”) The phrase “Black people dance at home” played in a computer-simulated voice paying tribute to the living rooms, block parties and cookouts where we invented countless dance moves, just because.
The company’s respect to Ailey is best proven in the staple piece “Revelations,” Aileys’ 1960 breakout performance. Narrating the African-American experience through dance, it was as Oprah would say, “a religious experience.” “Revelations” is such an anticipated mainstay on the tour that the audience erupted at its opening of Negro spiritual melodies. Since my eye is not trained to measure the difficulty of dance maneuvers, I used the audience’s reactions as a gauge. A strong gasp meant no human should bend like that.
Looking at the performance I thought of a childhood friend, Carlita, who’s a dancer with the Chuck Davis African-American Dance Ensemble in Durham, NC. The About Me section on her facebook page reads, “I do what I love EVERYDAY. Can you say the same?”
I’ve always been in awe of dancers. No, I’m not one — unless you count my amateur break dancing skills — but there’s a fire in a dancer’s eyes and a determination that can’t be matched. The reason why Carlita’s words have stayed with me is because she knew her passion and relentlessly pursued it during a time when I was less than enthused with the direction I was taking. At the time (and a sometimes now) I settled instead of going after my own flame. Though I won’t be lacing up my ballet shoes (especially since I don’t have any) I’ve decided it’s time to make some movements of my own.
NOTE: The picture below is Carlita (in the air) doing what she loves.
