An 'Aria' to Longing from Jennifer Muller/The Works

New York Sun
By MARY STAUB June 12, 2008

In a one-night gala performance on Tuesday, Jennifer Muller/The Works embodied the heartache and beauty of loss, longing, and loves unfulfilled in the premiere of Ms. Muller's new work, "Aria." The piece consists of seven vignettes, each set to a different Mozart aria, duettino, or trio from one of his operas: "The Marriage of Figaro," "Don Giovanni," and "The Magic Flute." Each vignette focuses on one emotional dynamic as distilled out of the passionate — often haunting — tone and lyrics of the accompanying music.

"Aria" is a term that in its original Italian usage meant "atmospheric, air," and implies something light. In The Works' rendition on Tuesday at the Ailey Citigroup Theater, it had weight. With delimited movement components and space defined by light, each vignette tries to flesh out and home in on the emotion that lies at its core.

In the first piece, "Dalla Sua Pace," a bookish man (a strong Pascal Rekoert) in suit and glasses seems to be searching for his own inner peace. He lurches forward, his arm shooting out as if to grab an elucidation in the distance. He turns the search elsewhere, his body taut with desperation, and hovers, his arms spanned wide, gazing down at the earth before collapsing without answer. The deep male voice of "Pace" seems to reverberate through him and magnify his being. He gazes up from the earth, rises and reaches for the heavens, seeking resolve from above.

Slowly, two ephemeral beings, draped in sheer, pale purple veils drift in for a duettino, "Canzonetta Sull'Aria." And the anonymous man disappears. Throughout "Aria," the seamless shifts from one vignette to the next allow the passions of the pieces to resonate into each other. If you have experienced loss, it seems to say, you know longing. And if you know longing, you know what love grows out of.

In "Canzonetta," the two female figures (Susanna Bozzetti and Seiko Fujita-Maekawa) seem to become one as they delicately, smoothly, and slowly shift their bodies and lean on each other for support — sometimes physically, and always emotionally. At times, they lean into or are nearly blown over by a powerful wind that gusts at their bodies from offstage. Their veils and hair fluttering in the wind, the two dancers are entirely in tune with one another. They seem to float on the two piercing voices of the sopranos throughout the piece. The dancers revel as the air caresses their skin, both supportively and threateningly.

Each vignette concentrates on one passionate, anguished struggle, whether between beings or just within one. For "Deh, Vieni Alla Finestra," a white column of fabric drops from the ceiling at the core of a wide circle of light at center stage. A male figure hastily climbs halfway up and seems to struggle against the pillar, its fabric interwoven with his body. He taunts the fabric as he spins outward, similar to a maypole dance, but here there is a living, shifting bond between man and object.

In "Porgi Amor," a sole figure seems to long for her love with increased intensity, and in the
playful "La Ci Darem La Mano," two parts of a couple play hard-to-get. She flaunts scoffing self-absorption with what borders on mime; he taunts with disinterest — an exasperating, yet in many ways honest, back-and-forth. In "Soil Ich Dich, Theurer, Nicht Mehr Sehn?" two lovers struggle to stay together as a third figure jealously cuts in between with arm slashes and devilish glee. All three figures wear striking satin blue tops with elongated sleeves, which they use to draw great arcs through the air — the lovers in an attempt to reach one another, the interloper in an effort to cut their ties.

"Aria" ends with "Ach, Ich Fuhl's (oh, how I endure / feel it)." Here, a regal figure (Elizabeth Disharoon) strides onto the stage, cloaked in yards upon yards of heavy, velvety red fabric, which she slowly lets drape behind her to the floor in a blood-red trail — of sorrow? Life? Love? Longing? She writhes in anguish, desperately reaches out for support, and contracts back into herself again and again with powerful grace. She ends up writhing herself into a fury that leaves her emotionally exposed as she grievously gathers her garment and trail and carries them offstage.

Tuesday night's performance began and ended with two earlier Muller works. In an excerpt from "Spores, Solitude & Summer Humming" (2000), the company developed into a powerful group force, continuously playing off each other. And in "Bounce" (2003), which closed the evening, their energy and precision of movement stood out. "Aria" will be a welcome addition to The Works' repertory roster during their three-week tour to China this fall.