Four years ago, McCaw Hall sat quiet, with artists and audiences alike tucked away at home, waiting for the uncertain future to unfold. The day before Alejandro Cerrudo’s One Thousand Pieces was set to premiere, Pacific Northwest Ballet learned that they would have to cancel performances due to the looming Covid closures, and that they could only record the dress rehearsal before McCaw Hall closed its doors for what would turn out to be 18 long months.
Knowing the history of this piece at PNB, I could not help but view the entire rep through the eyes of what could have been four years ago, and what we are incredibly grateful to have returned to our lives. Pacific Northwest Ballet has been back performing live for two and a half years, and yet, that wonder has not left me. I hope it never does. I see it in the eyes of other patrons, I hear it in the thundering applause, and the amount of people waiting in the box office line. Nobody has forgotten, nobody is taking it for granted yet, and if the pandemic taught us anything, I hope it is just how big of a role the arts play in our lives. How they feed us, how they inspire us, how they usher out a flood of goodness into the world that reaches far beyond the doors of McCaw Hall. May we never forget. I hope we always find it a wonder to sit hushed in an audience of nearly 3,000, and share a momentary experience in that space together. It is truly a marvel that we are here, four years later, getting to wonder at beauty, and watching it unfold before us. A miracle in itself.
Oliver Davis’ score, and Matthew Neenan’s choreography seem to come from the same mind in Bacchus. The cast of thirteen dancers found genuine delight in each movement, and each section featured dancers paired in ways that may be a nod to the six types of love defined by the ancient Greeks. Sarah-Gabrielle Ryan found exuberant joy in pouncing upon the moment, and displayed an eagerness for the choreography that flooded out into the audience. Madison Rayn Abeo, Juliet Prine, Dylan Calahan, and Noah Martzall were a delight to see in their gleeful pas de quatre full of quick footwork, and pizzicato thrill. Their contagious joy and exactitude in each movement remind us of the power of dance and music to find felicity in every small thing.
What I was not expecting from this piece was the variety in emotion. Within the seven sections, Neenan creates a tapestry of purple hues that emote a variance in feeling comparable to a story ballet. From humor, to joy, to sincere contemplation, one blends so smoothly into the next that it all passes like a dream.
One highlight was watching Christian Poppe fill the stage in a solo as lush as the plum velvet he wore. A dancer who, in my opinion, doesn’t get enough stage time, Poppe melted into each moment with purpose and exquisite fluidity. The lighting cast his shadows upon the opposite wings, which brought a melancholic air that we may only be able to notice post-pandemic. (If you saw Penny Saunders’ Wonderland last season, you may remember how the shadows cast across the theater evoked a feeling of emptiness although the house was full). The roar of applause he received was well earned.
There are moments in the piece that felt nearly too intimate to experience, such as when the music falls away and all that we hear are Cecelia Illiseu’s breathing and the gentle tap of her pointe shoes upon the stage. What a brilliant move on Neenan’s part, to remind us of the hard work the dancers are doing while making it all look effortless.
During Saturday’s Matinee, Lily Wills and Miles Pertl performed a gorgeous pas de deux that displayed Neenan’s capability to create breathtaking moments within his architecture of movement. This solemn section could nearly be described as a feat of engineering, while simultaneously expressing a beautiful connection between the two dancers. As Miles Pertl held Lily Wills above his head in a pose of blade-like balance, they made it clear that within Neenan’s choreography, even the most challenging, impossible-looking configurations of the human body become possible. The entire piece seemed a study of our ebbing and flowing of emotions within private and social spaces, and the limitless web of connections between people.
I walked into the theater expecting a feat of joy, and walked away with a full experience of life’s emotions, all gloriously swimming within Randall G. Chiarelli’s smooth violet lighting.
My only complaint: it wasn’t long enough! I could have seen these shades of purple dance all night, so rich was the beauty that flooded the stage.
Alejandro Cerrudo aims to make his audience “forget what they did today, and what they will do tomorrow”, and that is exactly what he achieves in the masterpiece that is One Thousand Pieces. From its very first note, this work exists in a world of its own, and draws audiences in until they forget about everything other than the wonder taking place before their eyes.
This seventy minute long gem displays Cerrudo as an innovative, curious, “why not?” choreographer who manages to create magic out of thin air. But, of course it's not made of thin air. It’s made of dancers with remarkable endurance who move to Phillip Glass’ throbbing music for over an hour and never seem to tire of it. The intricacies within this piece blew my mind. How the dancers managed to weave every small detail into their bodies, I’ll never know, but Cerrudo has created a never-ending canvas that just keeps unscrolling and revealing more than one thought possible. The innovative pas de deuxs in this piece remind me of the way the sea carries a shell. Every way that a shell can be smoothed, rounded, encircled, swallowed, enveloped, caressed by water, that is how two dancers move with each other, a constant exploration of the unlimited ways that two bodies can meet each other in space.
One Thousand Pieces is one of those choreographic wonders where I find myself wishing I could rewind about every ten seconds. It’s a seventy minute piece, and Cerrudo has packed it full to the brim with spectacles. But, importantly, they are not empty spectacles. Not once did it begin to feel more circus than dance, which is saying something considering that the stage was during one section layered with water, and only moments before, Miles Pertl hung from the cat walk while enclosed in the warmth of a spotlight.
This singular moment will rest preciously in my mind: when Michael Jinsoo Lim moved to the front of the aisle to fill the theater with Glass’ haunting tune while Miles Pertl hung like an angel in the dark and delivered the most poignant words:
“The day with its cares and perplexities is ended and the night is now upon us
The night should be a time of peace and tranquility
a time to relax and be calm
We have need of a soothing story
to banish the disturbing thoughts of the day,
to set at rest our troubled minds,
and put at ease our ruffled spirits…”
If there were six perfect words to describe what people find within the walls of a theater, it may be the experience of having art “put at ease our ruffled spirits”. Such silence filled McCaw Hall as we sat bathed in the beauty of the scene before us. (A side note: if Miles Pertl has not yet considered voice acting, it’s most definitely something to explore post-retirement). It was the perfect example of what we missed so desperately during the pandemic: these moments that take us from our everyday lives, that fill us with hope, and imbue our souls with much-needed beauty so that we can carry that out into the world. Simultaneously it was a bittersweet reminder of what we lost in 2020, and the time that we will never be able to retrieve.
Oh, but what a beautiful bittersweet reminder it was. One Thousand Pieces is a feast for the eyes, and a rejuvenation for the soul. The water-filled section was unlike anything I have ever seen, depicting an otherworldly amount of breathtaking beauty. Dylan Wald and Elizabeth Murphy moved through it as though they had never known anything but each other and the blue mist surrounding them. Like a waterfall, there was no end and no beginning, only their unwavering, smooth-as-honey pas de deux that displayed the strength and control of these two incredible Principals. Leah Terada and Christopher D'Ariano once again showed the dynamic force of their partnership and moved with ease through some very technically challenging choreography, all while gliding effortlessly through the water underfoot.
There are several moments within this work that left me wondering how it is that movement upon a stage can evoke such deep sentiments within an observer. The large group sections, cast in heavily contrasted light, especially moved me with their images of unison. There is a short section where the entire cast of twenty four lines the front of the stage and moves through a series of small movements to the moody music of Philip Glass’ “Piano Concerto No.2”. How can it be that even motions as slight as these, can, when duplicated twenty four times, tell more stories than words ever could? I have no answer, and yet there I was, feeling everything.
In One Thousand Pieces, Cerrudo has created a rich web of movement, a mosaic so detailed and extensive, that for seventy heavenly minutes nothing in the world existed, save for the spectacle before my eyes, and the heart clearly present in each step. Encompassed in the brilliant lighting by Michael Korsch, one must only look up to see the shadows of dancers flit across the proscenium in a sea of blue to be reminded of the magic that you are experiencing. This piece will infuse you with its mood and bold vision, and if you’re anything like me, you’ll carry it home with you, to safe keep and cherish.
There are still four opportunities to see this stunning rep:
Thursday, March 21st at 7:30 (Pay What You Want Night!)
Friday, March 22nd at 7:30
Saturday, March 23rd at 7:30
Sunday, March 24th at 1pm
Catch these two wonders before they slip away, they are not to be missed. I hope to see you at the ballet!
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