Culture Crawl
This section includes a peek at the latest in theater, reviews of exhibits, reflections on something interesting in film,
a snapshot of cultural or community events and experiences, etc.
a snapshot of cultural or community events and experiences, etc.
The Beauty of Being Black:
Alvin Ailey's Life and Work Celebrated at The Whitney
January 2025
Alvin Ailey's Life and Work Celebrated at The Whitney
January 2025
Alvin Ailey (1960)
Photographer: John Lindquist
Photo Courtesy: Whitney Museum of American Art
Photographer: John Lindquist
Photo Courtesy: Whitney Museum of American Art
“Edges of Ailey”: Whitney Museum of American Art, New York City ~ through February 9, 2025
By Dawn Lille
One steps out of the elevator onto the 18,000 square foot fifth floor gallery of the Whitney Museum and is met by a video surround of eighteen channels showing Alvin Ailey’s choreography performed by the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, selected events from his life and the man himself. This huge exhibition is extraordinary and the first to offer an examination of a dance artist’s formation, philosophy, dreams, creative approach, influences and influencers. The extensive research involved illuminates aspects of the life and thinking behind Ailey’s choreography. It offers a look at what forms an artist and the relationships — known and unknown — between those in different media.
Exhibition Teaser Video: Whitney Museum of American Art's YouTube Channel
|
The introduction says Ailey “is among the most culturally and historically impactful artistic figures in the United States and in the world.” The exhibition was curated by Adrienne Edwards, a senior curator at the museum, who spent years thinking about and planning what she admits is an “extravaganza” into which she has put her personal beliefs, to our great benefit.
A Black male dancer and choreographer, immensely curious, thoughtful, creative, determined, and with a deep sense of humanity, Ailey was formed by his early upbringing and exposure, what he termed his “blood memories.” A child born in 1931 to a seventeen-year-old mother in a rural Black community in Texas, his early years were entwined in the South, and he was shaped by it. The spirit, pride, creativity and Baptist church in life there — the Jim Crow laws and share cropping livelihood not withstanding — formed the first pillar in his life.
A Black male dancer and choreographer, immensely curious, thoughtful, creative, determined, and with a deep sense of humanity, Ailey was formed by his early upbringing and exposure, what he termed his “blood memories.” A child born in 1931 to a seventeen-year-old mother in a rural Black community in Texas, his early years were entwined in the South, and he was shaped by it. The spirit, pride, creativity and Baptist church in life there — the Jim Crow laws and share cropping livelihood not withstanding — formed the first pillar in his life.
At age eleven, he moved to Los Angeles where his exposure changed and dance entered his life. He was introduced to Lester Horton, a white dance artist with whom he studied and in whose integrated company (the first in this country) he danced. Upon Horton’s early death, Ailey took over the company. Horton had developed his own modern technique, but exposed his students to other styles including ballet, indigenous American and flamenco, with an emphasis on theatricality. This was the second pillar supporting Ailey. He eventually came to New York to perform on Broadway and became part of the New Dance Group, the first racially integrated dance organization. His companions included Carmen de Lavallade, a friend from Los Angeles, as well as Geoffrey Holder, Katherine Dunham and Pearl Primus, all of whom influenced him. He founded his dance company in 1958 and a school in 1969.
In dance Ailey discovered the means to express his own feelings and to communicate to others the beauty of being Black. He saw the body as a site to express ideas and emotions so relevant that they cause the same reaction in the viewer. To him, dance is the means to express the possibilities of life as well as those that exist in a shared community. He regarded the choreographer as a storyteller, and he felt that the success of a dance depended upon how personal it was. His repertory thus became the story of his life. He was a great believer in collaboration, diversity and art as a form of resistance and protest.
This huge exhibition is filled with dance and music, paintings, sculpture, photographs, examples of Ailey’s letters, diaries and notebooks, detailed sections on those whose work he absorbed and those he affected. There are items that bring one to heights of hope and satisfaction and then to despair. But everywhere there is something to see, hear, move with, think about. The Whitney offers an ongoing presentation of live performances and classes, all of which can be booked separately on the museum web page. This includes a monthly one-week residency by the company, classes for all ages in many styles and offerings by Ailey II and advanced students. Additionally, eleven leading choreographers were asked to create new dances or restage old ones inspired by Ailey. |
Installation View of "Edges of Ailey"
Photo Courtesy: Whitney Museum of American Art |
Music, especially that of Black composers and musicians, Duke Ellington in particular, was a part of his life and played a huge role in his choreography. He loved literature and poetry and read widely. His notebooks refer to Langston Hughs, who was a mentor and collaborator, James Baldwin, Tennessee Williams, Truman Capote, Maya Angelou and others. His research on the history of religions covered Judeo Christian, astrology, and Candomblé as seen in Brazil. Ailey was also deeply aware of the extreme suffering of and fortitude needed by the women of the Black community, a subject that is seen and felt in much of his work.
In his dances Ailey created his own visuals, but the 80 artists shown were formed by many of the same elements. This art is arranged according to the themes that are found in his work and in African American life: migration, liberation, resistance, spirituality, women. In addition to works by well-known artists, such as Faith Ringgold, Romare Bearden and Jacob Lawrence, there are many less familiar artists who share similar visions. Elizabeth Catlett’s renderings of women are searing, and William H. Jackson depicts the vernacular style of southern life in a comforting manner, among the many revealing works on display.
Ailey was convinced of the capability of dance, using the human body as a tool, to express and reflect human feelings, and his choreography reflects this. His work on stage created the possibility of life in a shared African American community. The question is how he elicited this emotion-tinged concept, regardless of the color of the viewer. What is it about “Revelations,” the troupe’s signature work that closes every program, or “Cry,” the solo he created on his muse Judith Jamison, that gives them relevance after dozens of viewings?
“Revelations,” created in 1960 to spirituals, gospel music and blues, takes its name from the Book of Revelations. Its three sections, Slavery, Baptism and Sundays, use the words of the songs as narrative, along with distinctive costumes and props. The dances, which consist of solos, duets, small and large groups, go from “Rocka My Soul In The Bosom of Abraham” to “Take Me To The Water” to “Move Members Move.” In Ailey’s ability to make modern dance entertaining as well as meaningful, the work uses rhythm and familiar, yet dramatized, movements to allow the audience to experience the event simultaneously and instills a desire to move as well. At the end, everyone is standing and swaying.
"Revelations" (1961)
Dancers: Alvin Ailey, Myrna White, James Truitte, Ella Thompson, Minnie Marshall & Don Martin Photographer: Jack Mitchell Photo Courtesy: Whitney Museum of American Art |
"Revelations" (1961)
Dancers: Alvin Ailey, Myrna White, James Truitte, Ella Thompson, Minnie Marshall & Don Martin Photographer: Jack Mitchell Photo Courtesy: Whitney Museum of American Art |
“Cry” (1970) was a birthday present to his mother and dedicated to her and to all Black women everywhere, “especially our mothers.” A sixteen-minute solo, it is a journey from pain and sorrow to joy and triumph. That fearless woman, dressed in a white leotard and long ruffled white skirt and wielding an endless white scarf, never abandons her search. The five-foot-ten-inch Judith Jamison (who recently died), on whom it was created, pierced the stage and drew the viewer into her struggle. Subsequent interpreters have contributed their own personalities.
I taught dance history at the school for nine years and finally gave up trying to convince Ailey to integrate the course. One semester covered the art from ritual to the present and one dealt only with the history of Black dance. He quietly and firmly insisted that it remain that way. The emphasis reinforced his determination to make black and brown beautiful and historically important. The company was and is integrated, but only slightly. In retrospect, he was right.
Alvin Ailey died in 1989 from AIDS, a troubled, searching and very special being. But his sanctuary was his choreography, a still amazing, communicating archive of art.
Alvin Ailey died in 1989 from AIDS, a troubled, searching and very special being. But his sanctuary was his choreography, a still amazing, communicating archive of art.
Dawn Lille, Ph.D., trained in ballet, modern dance and Laban analysis, and has worked in dance and theater as a performer, choreographer, director, teacher and writer. She taught at Brooklyn, Barnard and City College/CUNY, where she wrote and headed a graduate program in dance, and at Juilliard. Dawn’s many publications include articles in journals and encyclopedias, chapters in eight collections, and two books. Her interest in the social ramification of the arts was seen in the 1996 exhibit “Classic Black: Black Dancers in Ballet Prior to DTH,” which she researched and curated.