http://www.nytimes.com/2014/10/10/arts/dance/mark-morriss-words-a-premiere-at-fall-for-dance.html 2014-10-10 01:22:49 Mark Morris’s ‘Words,’ a Premiere at Fall for Dance Mark Morris’s company presented the premiere of his work “Words,” set to music by Mendelssohn, at the Fall for Dance Festival at City Center. === Fall for Dance But not all Fall for Dance programs contain a Some of the “Words” leaves an overall impression of complete charm and canny organization. This presentation is for 16 dancers. But the company, splitting into two for simultaneous tours, will also present reduced-cast versions. Throughout, Mr. Morris uses a traditional “wipe” device, where dancers enter with a small curtain that helps to introduce performers hidden behind it or to hide those who now depart. A couple dances, mutually absorbed; but others come out of the wings, as if drawn to their spell or as if eavesdropping, before withdrawing from sight. The interplay between the duet’s calm continuity and this peripheral activity is enchanting. Sometimes a visitor approaching the couple bounces away as if repelled by a force field. Everywhere, the phrasing is musically judicious: a mixture of regular and irregular. We keep thinking we can see what will happen, then find we are wrong. Near the end, a violin trill cues the dancers to rotate on the spot, with arms outstretched ( Another fascination throughout is how close to nondance vocabulary Mr. Morris stays. There are balances and turns most of us couldn’t do, but they’re delivered the opposite way from virtuosity: They either look perilous (we see the effort) or childishly innocent (those spins look newly minted). Generally, the material is simple; it never draws our attention to technique. Since the 1980s, Mr. Morris has been using the “democratic dance” idea that emerged with the early postmodernists of This program opened with two numbers performed by The coordination is phenomenal. Early in “Minoi,” the men create a dazzling effect simply by the suddenness with which they turn their heads to follow the direction of their raised right arms. It feels as if they’re dislocating their necks, but it’s achieved simply by very spruce timing. Mainly the phrases are short, but there are scarcely any pauses; and the meter keeps changing, so that they’re never locked in a rhythmic continuum. The dancers move in various geometries: A favorite is a triangular wedge pattern that organizes them to move in three or four horizontal rows, each with its own brilliant routine. The command of dynamics is so brilliant that a quick series of vertically rising hand claps, phrased as a diminuendo, becomes enchanting. Entirely less spellbinding were the program’s two other works, Hans van Manen’s There’s little to say of the British Mr. Maliphant’s “Two x Two.” Fang-Yi Sheu and Yuan Yuan Tan, dancers well known in the United States (Ms. Tan is another San Francisco ballerina), moved barefoot in bland gyrations in separate squares of light, largely synchronized, to taped percussive music by Andy Cowton. When Fall for Dance’s taste is so admirably eclectic, why does it include clichés like this?