Spiritual Dance: If Not Religion, Then Technique, Choreography

In most cultures, there are age-old ways of combining spiritual matters with movement, and perhaps only in the evolution of Western artistic tradition did dance get so severely separated from religion. Occasionally, that fact still bedevils choreographers.

Case in point, on the last of this year’s Dance Kaleidoscope programs, Sunday night at the Ford Amphitheatre: Katja Biesanz’s solo, “Transit,” in which she flung arcs of water and then spun with a large branch as if it were a sacred artifact.

It was all over in about five minutes, hardly time to wonder what that was about, when another ritual began. As four stagehands mopped up with cloths (for another five minutes, it seemed), a few wags in the front rows started creditably reproducing the chant-like score Biesanz had used. Now that was a ritual they understood.

Which points to the things you need in a dance-that-would-be-spiritual--familiarity with the symbols and purpose, or at the least, riveting choreography. You didn’t have to know, for instance, that Banafsheh Sayyad and the Namah Ensemble’s “Prayer #7 at the Door of Submission” was based on Moslem prayer rituals, because it was just interesting to look at. The stylized and syncopated bowing, spinning and trance-like hair-tossing of three black-clad women had variations that became mesmerizing.

Not surprisingly, “Dashavtar,” an Indian classical dance duet by Odissi dancers Sharanya Mukhopadhyay and Laria Saunders, was all about religious matters--the 10 incarnations of Lord Vishnu. But it was also sheer aesthetic triumph. Saunders was pleasant; Mukhopadhyay absolutely radiant. At 13, Mukhopadhyay already has a fluidity and clarity of technique, married beautifully to quicksilver dramatic skills. This accomplished duo set a standard that was not matched by Malathi Iyengar and Rangoli Dance Company, a substitution for the injured Parijat Desai.

Maura Owens Townsend took on the topic of slavery in her quintet “Sudan,” which she wanted to be “a prayer for freedom and abolition.” It was earnest, sculptural and literal, with pleading and reaching gestures its main choreographic statement.

Making her choreographic debut was Laura Everling (of Diavolo Dance Theater) in “Shed.” It seemed more of a study at this point--on the theme of searching--but a few inventive movement ideas emerged. In a filmy white top and pants, she began, almost imperceptibly, with an inverted position on the back stone steps of the Ford. Descending the next set of stairs hands first, she then wove stillness into idiosyncratic movement phrases that somehow called attention to small details.

Two group works were flashy and fun in different moods. Hae Kyung Lee & Dancers appeared with the Liquid Skin music ensemble and, as they have before, did best when riding composer Steve Moshier’s insistently bubbling rhythms with creative stationary spins. Something odd happened when the music continued to flow, but unison classroom steps suddenly made the dancers look shaky and awkward. The piece ended with a few wonderfully lofty throws.

The program closed with Jazz Antiqua Dance and Music Ensemble’s “Legong (2000),” with standout performances by Terrica Banks and Raymond Lewis. Pat Taylor’s strut-filled choreography starts with jazz and makes nifty, sharp transitions into tilts and angles of Asian dance.

No message, no deep journey--and sometimes that works just fine.