Even When Cast in a Good Light, Parsons’ Choreography Falls Flat

The debate over David Parsons’ ability to choreograph has now entered its 13th year and, immensely clever fellow that he is, this former Paul Taylor principal now focuses it on the issue of accessibility. “Is it really that bad being accessible?” Parsons asked rhetorically in Dance Insider magazine last April, as if his attackers champion impenetrable obscurity. “And why aren’t more modern dance choreographers trying to be accessible?”

Because it doesn’t work. It’s like popularity: If you’re popular, great. But is there anyone more obnoxious than someone trying to be popular? Parsons definitely tried so at the Irvine Barclay Theatre on Friday, presenting four pieces less dependent on anything resembling choreographic invention or on the dancing of his fine, 10-member company than immensely clever lighting effects.

The flag-waving ensembles of “Anthem” (music by Shelly Palmer) emphasized rippling fabrics under overhead spots, harking back to early modern dance, when Loie Fuller performed in back-lit diaphanous veils. “Fill the Woods With Light” (music by Phil Woods) relied on portable lighting units to heighten the intimacy and sensuality of jazz dancing, while the solo “Caught” (music by Robert Fripp) used strobe flashes to create the illusion that the tireless Jaime Martinez could hover magically in midair.

Finally, the brand-new “Images” punctuated Parsons’ choreography with photographs by Howard Schatz projected behind the dancers--with the cast clothed on stage but often nude in the projections, just as they were in Alwin Nikolais’ far more technologically and choreographically ambitious “Cross-Fade” 25 years ago.

But you won’t find any complaints in this review about Schatz or lighting designer Howell Binkley. Indeed, more power to them: Many better dances on many, many stages would benefit from the changing perspectives and textures provided by the portable lights in “Fill the Woods,” while it often proved more rewarding seeing “Images” through Schatz’s photos--savoring the details he considered highlights--than watching the dance itself.

At one point in “Images,” Parsons launched a duet to a Satie score previously used by Frederick Ashton in his ballet “Monotones,” and the whole accessibility debate suddenly seemed ridiculous. Yes, it might have been wonderful if a photographer with Schatz’s sensitivity had enhanced Ashton’s memorable images with his own--but great choreography is always inherently, intrinsically accessible, and nothing Parsons offered his dancers or his audience could approach Ashton’s authoritative musicality or daring fusion of gymnastic and ballet technique.

In “Anthem,” Binkley made the swirling colored flags look absolutely glorious. But when the spectacle stopped for a duet by the exemplary Mia McSwain and Robert Battle that tried to dramatize how flags can get in the way of true love--and how we all need to throw them away in order to be truly free--there was no way for him to disguise Parsons’ inability to get beyond hand-me-down dance-drama cliches, other than turn all the lights out--and unfortunately that didn’t happen.

Instead, the performance demonstrated that being immensely clever isn’t remotely the same thing as being genuinely creative, and there isn’t electricity enough anywhere to illuminate a dim idea.

Whether you believe it should be called the Parsons or Binkley Dance Company, such paragons as Jason McDole and Elizabeth Koeppen danced way, way above their material. Pianist Cristina Valdes lent her artistry to the Satie and Ginastera music for “Images,” with the rest of the accompaniments provided on tape.