Latest news with #Churchyard
New York Times
12 hours ago
- Entertainment
- New York Times
‘Churchyard' and ‘Tablet' Review: Irreverence and Resurrection
Paul Taylor isn't commonly discussed as a religious choreographer, but religious themes run through the nearly 150 dances he made across six decades. That his perspective was usually irreverent doesn't mean it was unserious. William Blake, explaining why Satan has the best lines in John Milton's 'Paradise Lost,' wrote that Milton was 'of the Devil's party without knowing it.' Taylor's dances often seem to suggest that we're all of the devil's party and that it would be hypocritical to pretend otherwise, but also that the implications of that truth could be very dark. Take 'Churchyard' (1969), one of the two works that the Paul Taylor Dance Company has reconstructed for its run at the Joyce Theater this week. It starts with a woman wearing what looks like a nun's wimple, her palms pressed together in prayer. The accompanying music sounds medieval, and the actions of the dancers who soon join her are both prayerful and pastoral, almost Edenic. Halfway through the dance, though, these images are replaced with the cavorting of devils or maybe the damned. Now with bulges like tumors in their costumes, the dancers fling themselves around in gnarled, twisted positions, jumping like frogs and scratching themselves. The men carry the women upside down, and the woman from the beginning, now a siren-like figure in a cape, swings her head to slap the ground with her braid. It's like a Hieronymus Bosch painting with touches of go-go dancing. Taylor called the work's two sections 'Sacred' and 'Profane.' But the sacred half isn't pure. The score — by the semi-forgotten avant-gardist Andrew Sarchiapone, who called himself Cosmos Savage — mixes in sounds of storms, which could also be a bowling alley next door. The innocent interactions between men and women are so chivalrous that they're arch, with hints of lust and trouble in paradise. The perversity of the choreographer-god seeps in with impossible-to-hold balances (set to fast music) and cruelly slow descents to the floor. The profane section is more fun, with naughty bits. But it is fun for us, not for the lost souls. There's desperation in their frantic activity. They seem compelled. And if their fate is ours, this memento mori of a dance is a nightmare. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
Yahoo
06-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Aurora at Wembley Arena review: a witchy, eardrum-rattling celebration of love
The Wembley Arena has a bug problem. Or at least, that's what Norwegian singer Aurora told everybody on Saturday night. 'This is the dream, guys!' she chirped as she swept a few of them off the stage, to the cheers of the crowd. It wasn't even out of character for her. Aurora has made her name over the years with her distinctive blend of folk electro-pop – heavy beats with ethereal vocals layered over the top. Her music spans genres, but a lot of her biggest hits address issues like the environment, nature and love. ADVERTISEMENT Advertisement Going to an Aurora gig is very much like paying a visit to the strange witch that lives in the woods – in this case, the woods was the Wembley Arena, and the crowd came ready to party. The singer, dressed all in white and wielding a red microphone like a bloody trophy, delivered. She started with one of her older hits, Churchyard, which boasted a staggering beat drop, before seamlessly segueing into All Is Soft Inside, which came complete with a cacophony of ear-shattering cymbals. So far, so Aurora. Much of the set felt like a pagan rite: there was a gorgeous, stripped-back rendition of The River, where the backing choir provided echoing harmonies to Aurora's own voice; that was followed immediately afterwards by A Soul With No King, whose chorus felt like a pagan war cry – while My Name was a lesson in strobing, pulsing techno-folk. The pacing felt uneven, but for the most part, Aurora's stage presence sold it. We had seats at the All Terrace, so we got a great view of the stage, plus access to the Hero's Lounge nearby for easy access to drinks. No people in the way; just the sight of Aurora spinning and twirling her way through the set like some kind of charmingly demented techno-sprite. ADVERTISEMENT Advertisement Throughout it all, she kept up a patter with the crowd – 'is everyone feeling okay, still?', she asked at one point – addressing everything from her obsession with bugs to the nuances of the Norwegian language, and her views on love. The crowd was there with her, even during the quieter moments – for one stripped back version of her song Queendom, the entire arena space was transformed into a sea of stars as people got out their phone lights. The next moment, she was waving a rainbow flag on stage and chanting 'trans lives matter!' to rapturous applause, during a joyous rendition of Exist for Love. Things closed out with a flurry of Aurora's biggest hits. The crowd duly threw their hands in the air for The Seed, followed during the encore by Cure for Me and Some Type of Skin, which boasted a truly earth-shattering bass outro that rattled the eardrums amid the song's exhortations for people to get along a little better. ADVERTISEMENT Advertisement It was a message that the singer herself was keen to press home. 'When the world seems to become darker and angrier… it can be so easy to misjudge the humanness of the world,' she said towards the end, before a melancholy, pared-back piano song that closed out the set for good. 'Being a human is such an extreme sport, and you don't get anything for winning.' I'd disagree – after all, we get to see her. Aurora is touring; Accor Live Limitless (ALL) is the global loyalty program by Accor, offering rewards and benefits across its hotels, restaurants, and partner services. Find out about All Unlimited Experiences here.
