at TPAC
Complexions Contemporary Ballet
As part of its innovative and downright wonderful dance series, TPAC presented
Complexions Contemporary Ballet on a one-day-only visit March 14th. It was a remarkable afternoon to be introduced to an “exciting new genre” that seeks to “reinvent dance and contemporary ballet.” Complexions presents, largely, choreographies by its cofounder Dwight Rhoden, who once served as a principal dancer with the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater and who has created works (choreographies) for organizations such as the Joffrey Ballet, New York City Ballet, and Mariinsky Ballet. The afternoon’s performance (I saw the matinee) was split into two parts, the first a group of choreographies on various compositions, classical, pop and contemporary that, under the title Retro-Suite, celebrates the company’s 30 years of existence. The second half featured his Star Dust from 2016, a “ballet tribute to David Bowie.”
I quite enjoyed the opening work, set to Beethoven’s 5th Piano Concerto. Much of the dance set either a soloist or duo against the larger ensemble, which led me to consider various aspects of Beethoven’s biography and context—the immortal beloved, and his complicated relationship with the figure of Napoleon for example. The dance itself was spectacular and precise, even if it seemed to lack the company’s lauded innovation. Perhaps this opening salvo was programed to indicate that the company can dance traditional ballet.
However, the most remarkable thing about this work is that it was written with two musical pieces in mind—an identical choreography composed to 2 different pieces of music—one called Beethoven Concerto and the other, This Time with Feeling. The titles imply that they might be performed back-to-back, but they were not, and unfortunately, I could not find any presentation of the other performance online. (It seems that This Time with Feeling was performed in the evening).
Next was First Comes Love (2025), presented by the company’s co-associate directors Jillian Davis and Joe González. The two of them were beautiful, with a wonderful, shared charisma and presence. One imagines that once he recognized the magic in their pairing, Rhoden would choreograph for them again and again. I sensed a power dynamic in the choreographic expression where, while Davis’ presence was from a centered, place of strength, González’ role was one of support and empowerment. While this expression was traditional, the roles of gendered dynamics would come into play (and later be challenged) throughout evening.
The two oldest choreographies on the program, Gone (2000) and Ave Maria (1995) were quite interesting. Gone featured a trio of men and brought an ambiguity of the possible varieties in male relationships, enhanced by Odetta’s dark blue, neo-worksong, “Another Man Done Gone.” Ave Maria, an intense Pas de Deux featured remarkable synchronizations and astonishing entanglement between Chloe Duryea and Bilgude Ariunbold. In one of the few moments of separation, Duryea held a grand plié in second position, en pointe, that was so sturdy and powerful she appeared as stable as a spider.
The evening’s first part ended with Mercy from 2009 performed by the company, and in response to the tragedy of 9/11. It is a spiritual work that seemed to play up the generic exoticism of Zimmer’s music, with buckets, somewhat conservative linen costumes, and a hurried grace.
The second half of the evening was dedicated to Star Dust, the David Bowie tribute. It seems that not much has changed in the choreography since 2016, when Elizabeth Zimmer reviewed it for the Village Voice (Feb. 1, 2017). She described it as “…the forty-minute work is nothing if not supremely entertaining, with its face-painted performers, its gold-tinsel back curtain, and Michael Korsch’s startling rock-show lighting that bounces off disco balls.” The song selections were certainly a greatest hits collection, and fun to hear again.
As a ballet, some moments of Star Dust were fantastic, but others, curious. In “Changes,” the approach seemed to bring Rock and Roll and other contemporary dance styles onto the ballet floor. This was innovative in that it was different from traditional ballet, but I’ve got to say, at the moment Bowie sings “…and these children, that you spit on, as they try to change their world,” the floor was full of smiling dancer faces. Irony? Seeing the moment as quaint? It felt as though the work was detached from the original rebellious intent of the song. Another missed moment was Peter Gabriel’s cover of Heroes, a stripped-down interpretation characterized by slow, emotional buildup and tender vocals. An inspired musical choice, but the choreography didn’t nearly match the intimacy of the music.
And yet, Space Oddity was inspired. Danced by Manuel Vaccaro elegantly en pointe, it became a remarkable expression for marginalization and finding one’s people and place. Accompanied by flat-footed men through the first half of the song, at the song’s dénouement Vaccaro sees the women of the ensemble strolling across the back of the stage, all of them en pointe too. The relief is tangible. This recognition and embrace of Bowie’s androgynous aesthetic, especially given our contemporary insufferable and intolerant social context, was chilling, wonderful and achieved with a remarkable amount of courage and grace.

In a way Star Dust swung back and forth between bent gendered performance (including cosplay) and straight-cis expression: Modern Love’s “Church on Time” seemed to channel Kevin Bacon’s Footloose, while Rock and Roll Suicide gave us the whole male part of the troupe in tall Go-Go Boots. All of this culminated in Young Americans, which was danced in much the same was as Changes, in a Rock and Roll style whose nostalgia seemed to ignore the irony of Bowie’s lyrics. The house lights came up and “Let’s Dance” came on with an invitation for the audience to dance.
I think what I am trying to say here is that we have innumerable Jukebox Musicals or revues that come through TPAC as Broadway productions. Artists like Michael Jackson and Cher are highlighted, with Neil Diamond’s A Beautiful Noise coming next season. It is a lot of fun to sing and dance to these old songs. Yet, these musicals have very little in common with the genres of ballet, or contemporary dance (at least as I understand them). Back in 2017, Zimmer (from the Village Voice) quoted Rhoden as telling Newsweek magazine, “I’m not afraid to entertain you,” and the second half of the evening was entertaining—as a fan of Bowie, I loved it. However, as a fan of ballet and contemporary dance it was hit or miss, and I simply preferred the first half.


