Modern dance could not reach a higher visual impact or theatrical expression than in Saturday's Limon Dance Company performance at Eisenhower Auditorium.
Company founder Jose Limon died 20 years ago, but the Limon Dance Company is brilliantly surviving its creator, "one of the major pioneers of modern dance," said Company Director Carla Maxwell before the performance.
One of Limon's most acclaimed pieces, There is a Time, showed the company's distinctive personality without distorting its original flavor.
"Dancing really happens when everyone comes together as one. You need to be empty and give out, interact with others, like in an orchestra," Maxwell said.
This interaction was particularly impressive in There is a Time, a theme with variations on life's paradoxes -- "a time to be born" and "a time to die," "a time to kill" and "a time to heal."
Gender stereotypes and overt masculinity taint Limon's work, reflecting his intention to "masculinize" modern dance, an art form which Limon originally perceived as being for "women and sissies," Maxwell said.
The reference to classical ballet, although subtle, also helped distinguish male and female dancers' body languages. Men, often in groups, trampled their feet on the ground with authority and repeatedly lifted silent, featherlike female dancers. Females in turn often portrayed nurturing energy providers and sources of life and inspiration.
In spite of this gendered limitation, There is a Time stood out as a classic, successfully tying together 12 separate themes in Norman Dello Joto's gasping and tormented strings.
"A time to kill" featuring a wild woman dancing as if trying to escape an invisible enemy highlighted the piece.
"The female dancer reminded me of a caged animal," commented Nathalie Manfull (senior-art).
"I've never seen anything like this," Denise Ollinger (junior-elementary education) said with enthusiasm.
Retablos, choreographed by dancer Carlos Orta, was a crazy and surrealistic construction, inspired by the relationship between Spain's famous poet and musician Federico Garcia Lorca and painter Salvador Dali.
Highly theatrical and humorous, Retablos delivered modern dance's fullest potential.
The final scene, "El Retablillo," provided an unforgettable stage composition. A 12-foot muse wearing a gigantic red velvet cloak turned against the audience while three male dancers posed as Michelangelo's classical sculptures.
The dramatic tension was released when the muse's cloak slowly slid off her shoulders and revealed a tiny woman standing on a ladder: the inspiring muse was human after all.



