Hubbard Street dancers Kyle Anders, Dominick Brown, Elliot Hammans, Shota Miyoshi and David Schultz in “Black Milk” by Ohad Naharin/Photo: Michelle Reid
Much has been written in this publication and others over the years about the virtuosity and versatility of the Hubbard Street Dance Chicago dancers. The company’s fall program, running now through November 23 at Steppenwolf’s downstairs theater, cashes in and ups the ante on this reputation with a stacked program of mic-drop numbers, old and new.
The show opens with a revival of “Black Milk,” created by Ohad Naharin in 1990 and premiering with Hubbard Street in 2002. Five men, shirtless in long white pants, begin slowly, bathed in lighting by Avi Yona Bueno (aka. Bambi) that makes them appear carved from stone. Four are gathered around what is revealed—through deep backbends—to be a metal bucket. Sculptural poses transform into ritualistic movement as each paints his face and torso with a dark liquid from the vessel. Once christened in mud, gravity seems to have lost its hold; they burst into leaps and spins—amplified by the voluminous trousers—cascading ripples and unison movements. There are intimate pairings, moments of tenderness and aggression. The piece is set to a marimba score by Paul Smadbeck, which contributes to the ceremonial, otherworldly atmosphere.
Aaron Choate in “Percussion IV” by Bob Fosse/Photo: Michelle Reid
The first intermission was followed by “Percussion IV,” a peacocking solo from Bob Fosse’s 1978 stage show “Dancin’.” It returns as part of Hubbard Street’s partnership with the Verdon Fosse Legacy, now in its sophomore year, which allows the company to house works by the legendary choreographer—making them the first and only dance company granted this honor.
Five dancers will perform the flex of a solo throughout the course of the run. Aaron Choate owned the role in the performance I attended, using their long limbs to their advantage and whipping their flowing ponytail to great effect. The piece is unquestionably Fosse: very Broadway, big, showy, leg-warmered, with humorous, flip moments in response to whistles and quiros in Gordon Lowry Harrell’s all-percussion score of the same name. Choate nailed them all, shooting pointed looks at the audience between tricks. A well-timed spotlight on the final beat ensured thunderous applause on cue.
Shota Miyoshi and Cyrie Topete in “A Duo” by Aszure Barton/Photo: Michelle Reid
Then the program entered the twenty-first century. Resident artist Aszure Barton’s 2024 “A Duo” was the tour de force in a program of crowd-pleasers. Shota Miyoshi and Cyrie Topete—one of three potential castings throughout the run—were the duo in question that day, clad in mossy green pants and long-sleeved shirts by Rémi van Bochove. Barton’s rapturously detailed choreography is stuffed with influences, from contemporary dance, popping, vogueing, martial arts—so layered and quicksilver and heightened by Nicole Pearce’s geometric lighting that it seems to take place in another dimension. Barton responds to each note in Marina Herlop’s driving score with every available joint and muscle—faces included. Miyoshi and Topete were flawless, coordinated as two hemispheres of the same brain… perhaps more so. When the lights came down, the audience—a matinee one at that, not exactly known for effusiveness—was on its feet, hooting approval.
Jacqueline Burnett alone, but not for long in Johan Inger’s “Impasse”/Photo: Michelle Reid
The closer was a remount of Johan Inger’s “Impasse,” which also premiered with Hubbard Street last year. It’s a full-company piece (and then some: rehearsal director Craig D. Black and summer intensive fellows padded out the numbers) that matches the much-ness of Barton’s kinetically dense duo with bodies, music and costumes. At the back of the bare stage stands a large, tube light-outlined plywood house with a door. A single dancer emerges—Jacqueline Burnett—prancing in idyllic reverie. She is playfully joined by David Schultz, and soon Aaron Choate rounds out their little band of outsiders. Adrenaline builds when a cadre of sleek, black-clad dancers emerge from the house, but so does societal pressure and—by the time another half-dozen dancers in wild costumes pour through the door—chaos. The more people flood the stage, the more the house shrinks. Between the carnival flounces, the game of chicken, the creepy clown kind of talking to himself, it becomes impossible to catch everything that’s happening. Songs by composer and trumpeter Ibrahim Maalouf go from dreamy to meditative to Latin dance party to carnivalesque, adding to the delirium and mounting sense of dread.
That said, Inger’s piece isn’t dark. Or at least not in the traditional sense. I’ve heard varying takes on it—including the choreographer’s own—and by my estimation they’re all intelligible readings. The more times I see “Impasse” (three now) the more I feel it’s a reflection of our time: hyper-stimulated, yearning, nostalgic, euphoric, frivolous and unnerved, all at the same time and under increasing pressure. It’s great fun and yet one can’t help feeling like the party might be coming to an abrupt end. Happily, our little trio make it out okay. Or do they?
Hubbard Street Dance Chicago’s Fall Series at Steppenwolf Theatre Company, 1650 North Halsted, through November 23. $23-$128.50. Tickets and info at hubbardstreetdance.com.
