“We dance for hopes, we dance for screams, we are the dancers, we create the dreams.” -Albert Einstein

Those are the final lines of the poem printed on the back of this semester’s Adagio programs. I am not convinced that Albert Einstein ever actually wrote those words, but the sentiment resonates regardless. For a dance show all about providing an open opportunity platform for students to physically express themselves, this emphasis on aspirations and achievement is welcome. Thankfully, dancing is a medium of expression that can get along just fine without justifying itself with words, and there was some pretty spectacular movement on display at this Adagio show.

I am happy to say that the sound quality in the venue has seemingly improved since last semester. Levin Ballroom, while a versatile space, has suffered from audio distortion and poor volume control in the past. It was only occasionally in the second half that I noted any distortion. These bursts of deep-fried sound would only last a few moments rather than entire songs—entirely ignorable. Small improvements like these add an air of professionalism to a venue that obviously was not designed for anything more than speeches and presentations.

The famed white cloth makes a return. The white backdrop, which appears to be a rectangular sheet stapled to the wall behind the stage, is a piece of lighting ingenuity. By bathing the stage in a solid color, the crew is able to completely change the hue of the back wall and the dancers. This allows for  stronger control over the mood and tone of the performances, especially with what I can only imagine is limited Levin equipment. 

While this lighting technique was most iconically used to make the stage orange or red to add a sensual quality to certain performances (notably in “Kaliente with a K” and “All that Jazz”), “Wonderland” applied a neat rotating kaleidoscope of color that imbued a segment of the dance with titular wonderment. “Blame it on Me” used blue with sharp transitions into a deep green to create a kind of choking, claustrophobic effect. By pairing this light shift with a synchronized sweeping fall into a sideways lunge near the end of the dance, the choreographer (Renee Korgood ’20) was able to create one of the most striking and memorable moments of the show.

The two visiting dance groups deserve special mentions: Northeastern’s “Kaliente” in the first half of the show and Umass Lowell’s “Photohype” after the intermission. It makes sense that traveling dance groups would have well-practiced acts, and these particular dancers kept the energy high. The first dance of “Kaliente with a K” was particularly electrifying, as the six dancers were paired up and swinging each other around in what the program describes as a “mix of Bachata, Salsa and Merengue styles.” While other pieces certainly featured lifting, Kaliente brought a level of intimacy and sensuality that is not commonly seen in Levin. Lowell’s group is notable for having the best transitions between songs; no stage blackouts or shoving as far as I could tell. Lowell also brought with them the most dancers, and their level of synchronization was jaw dropping.

Tap dancing and ballet were not excluded in this Adagio. Brandeis’s own tap group, Hooked on Tap (HOT!), waltzed onto the stage while tapping out the initial electric piano beat of “Hot Damn!” by The Shadowboxers. The discipline of HOT’s choreography was of particular interest. There were moments when the dancers moved without emitting any kind of tapping noise whatsoever. To an audience accustomed to a stereotypical or “classical” marked by rapid footwork, the smart manipulation and contemporary application was of immense interest.

Ballet Club’s presentation of The Nutcracker’s “Marzipan” was beautiful. Halfway through the performance, the six wing dancers made space for the lead dancer, Molly Cady ’21, and she went off like only a ballerina can with a massive orbital spin on her toes. After the lights went black, Cady could be seen ballerina tip-toeing off stage. This detail by itself isn’t a huge deal, but it speaks to years of ingrained discipline. If the quality of this piece was not an accident, then this year’s Nutcracker promises to be a superb show.

Do take the following with a grain of salt: I am apparently unable to provide an unbiased review of “All that Jazz” due to my intimate sexual and emotional relations with the choreographer, Amy Ollove ’21. But let’s be real here: If you haven’t been able to tell, I know next to nothing about dancing. Really, I couldn’t give a useful piece of constructive dance criticism if I tried. “All that Jazz” is exactly what you’d expect from a ’20s inspired musical dance number choreographed by a Fosse nut. It’s got flappers, it’s got shimmying, and it’s got a LOT of leg. At times, the performance seemed like an excuse to showcase the amazing gymnastic dance talents of Alyssa Rittenberg ’21 and Aitana Burman ’23. Rittenberg’s sparkling red-costume-clad upside down somersault split (among other sublime feats of movement) absolutely made a lasting impression on the hearts and minds of the audience. Burman’s drop split near the end of the dance generated an audible smack that reverberated throughout every corner of the ballroom. 

We can’t forget the emcees, Jack Rubinstein ’20 and Abby LeRoy ’20. It seems that every show to ever be put on in Levin has a pair of emcees. It is important to remember that they aren’t supposed to deliver grade A comedy. They exist to fill in time until the next set of dancers are ready to go, and they are especially important in a function hall without a backstage or wings. That said, a lot of the emcee’s jokes weren’t bad. I will never forget one of Rubenstein’s lines: “Brandeis has more Tufts rejects per capita than any other university.” I didn’t apply to Tufts, but I totally get it; it’s like a stab to the brain. It was clear that the emcees really loved the people working to put together this semester’s Adagio, and the positivity radiated. There was one bit that I could have gone without: the cookie eating interlude. They stood up there and just ate cookies, lips smacking, for like a minute. I didn’t come to Adagio to subject my ears to live mukbang.

Has Adagio always been this uplifting? Of course, but I left this particular production happier than most. It’s a show that doesn’t demand an understanding of narrative or theme. You don’t need to be a dance auteur to have a good time at Adagio. It is simply appreciation. The dancers dance because they love to. We should all aspire to match that. I hope future shows will maintain the enthusiasm and scope of this massive Adagio showcase!

Editor’s note: Staff Writer Aaron LaFauci is in a relationship with Amy Ollove ’21. Editor-In-Chief Polina Potochevska is the President of the Brandeis Ballet Club but did not perform in the club’s performance of “Marzipan.”