I search for meaning in these times of turmoil, which usually would lead me to a traditional church environment. In the last decade, however, I have found comfort in the cultural landscape of theater, dance, and music. Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater's Chicago performance put that swell back in my heart space.
Ailey's artistic director Judith Jamison died in 2024, and her spirit shines over the dance world. Her style and immersion in the emotion of dance set a blueprint for the Ailey company today. I imagined Jamison smiling and shining over the present company at the Auditorium Theatre last Friday. An excerpt of her most well-known performance, Cry, was performed by four dancers in the same dramatic white skirts as Jamison chose. Ailey choreographed Cry as a tribute to his mother and the strength of Black women in America. It is still a powerful and emotional remembrance made more so by Jamison's death.
Founder Alvin Ailey brought the emotion of Black religious experience and unabashed African influence to modern dance. He was instrumental in incorporating those emotions and history into the American cultural vernacular regardless of race. He found his muse in Jamison, who became artistic director after Ailey's death in 1989.
The performance opened with a new 2024 production of Grace, which Ronald K. Brown choreographed. It was initially performed in 1999 to the music of Duke Ellington's "Come Sunday" with the supplicating lyrics, "Lord, dear Lord I've loved, God almighty
God of love, please look down and see my people through." Brown continues the Ailey tradition of the Black faith, which is expressed through dance. The movements of a person shouting in church are seen in Zulu dancing with a bounce and high kicks.
The costumes by Omatayo Wunmi Olaiya are an ethereal white and a passionate red. It was a blending of spirit and passion that is central to Black worship. The company moved on and off the stage, dancing solo and in groups. In the middle of Grace's performance, "Shakara" by Fela Aníkúlápó Kútì rocked the house. Fela was a Nigerian Afrobeat superstar with strong political views that resulted in imprisonment.
Fela's rhythms and delirious chords are immediately recognizable. The translations are about empowerment and defiance with a love for his people. It is perfect for the Black experience in America. Grace concluded with my favorite rendition of "Come Sunday," belted out by Jennifer Holiday. I heard a lot of "amens" all around me.
Finding Free was performed after the first intermission. I think everybody needed a rest after Grace. Hope Boykin choreographed Finding Free, which was a bit of a departure from what I have previously seen the Ailey company perform. Boykin also created the militaristic costumes with Jon Tester. The program quotes Boykin, "Finding Free is not the absence of trials but the ability to carry weight, gaining the strength to endure." That quote and the dance felt empowering.
The dancers move in military formations, with individuals breaking out in movements of struggle as if leaving the formation caused withdrawal symptoms. The skill of the dancers appearing to struggle against the invisible force of conformity and then being thrown to the ground is riveting. These are performers at the top of their skills, making every move seem effortless.
The Friday program ended with Ailey's best-known work, Revelations. This performance took everybody to church with traditional gospel based on Bible verses and sermons that rocked the country churches in the South. Revelations has three parts, starting with "Pilgrim of Sorrow." The songs are of struggle, pain, and faith in carrying the burdens of being born Black. "I Been 'Buked," "Didn't My Lord Deliver Daniel," and "Fix Me, Jesus" would be sung before the altar call, where the preacher invites those seeking redemption to come forward.
Part two explores redemption, baptism, and the promise of ascending to heaven in a white robe with all sins and pain washed away. The traditional "Wade in the Water" is a rousing version from Ella Jenkins. The dancers are in white with blue swaths of cloth forming waves. I have seen this at least twice, and it never gets old. The umbrellas and white handkerchiefs the dancers carry are a nod to the Second Line in a New Orleans funeral procession. The dips and high kicks are joyous after receiving new life from baptism in the river.
The final movement of Revelations is "Move, Members, Move." It refers to stirring the church to a frenzy and shouting back at the devil and to the Ailey company dancers bringing the program to a pinnacle with the audience on its feet. Sinner Man, The Day Is Past and Gone, and You May Run On are dances about the everyday struggle to transcend the trials of life. The finale features the men in suits and the women in church dresses and hats. Ves Harper designed the costumes, and Barbara Forbes redesigned the church dresses and hats for "Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham." It had an Ellis Wilson vibe from his Harlem Renaissance paintings of Southern life.
The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater is imbued with the traditions of Black life. Ailey was from the South and grew up in that matriarchal culture where the mothers and grandmothers kept the community together. The Ailey company is a living archive of the Black American tradition and uplifting the African Roots of modern dance. Ailey threw off the anthropological interest in Black dance, making it a treasure in the American arts.
I left feeling uplifted and soothed from the week's debacles. The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater touched me on a soul level. Everybody went to church that night, no matter the color or creed. It was a much-needed reminder that there is peace and beauty beyond the noise of modern life.
The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater performed March 7-9 at the Auditorium Theatre.
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