Blue Until June

REVIEWS

The Washington Post

“The evening’s closing work, Trey McIntyre’s “Blue Until June,” was its most dazzling. McIntyre has frequently played with marrying contemporary American music with this traditional dance form, including in “High Lonesome,” set to songs by alt-rocker Beck, and “A Day in the Life,” set to Beatles tunes. This iteration of that template, which features Etta James songs, is lyrical, sensual and has a bit of a sense of humor.

In “You Can’t Talk to a Fool,” soloist Morgann Rose had a way of making you feel like she was learning the lesson of the song’s title the hard way. Her eyes telegraphed a knowing sense of resignation, but her reaches and runs had the urgency of a woman looking for some answers.

The passion reached its fever pitch in “Fool That I Am,” a lovers’ duet danced by Jared Nelson and Daniel Roberge. When it finished with Nelson grabbing the hand of a woman and walking away from Roberge, the audience audibly gasped, a testament to McIntyre’s careful choreographic construction and to Nelson’s and Roberge’s authentic performances.”

Denver Post

“A stunning first image was of a blond woman wrapped in fabric, arms raised, purple skirt extending from her waist to the borders of the stage. With statuesque calm, she rotated to the deep bluesy swing of “St. Louis Blues,” slowly uncovering the rest of the dancers. Slow, deliberate walks were met with swift, effortless partnering. Men lifted women high in the air, swinging them back and forth under “moonlight.” Women responded with stoic pirouettes attached, almost by accident, to male partners who supported their bodies with cool reserve. Using the words of songs to narrate each vignette, McIntyre’s most powerful tale, “Fool That I Am,” is a chilling condemnation of ’50s-era repression. Beautifully danced by Eric Beauchesne and Edgar Zendejas, the two men discreetly touch hands till one must leave the other for a woman waiting at the stage’s edge. Woman in hand, he leaves, briefly looking back at the love he cannot have.”

Palm Beach Post

“Choreographer Trey McIntyre is really making the rounds. Open a dance program book at the Kravis Center — for Ballet Florida, Hubbard Street Dance Chicago and, early next season, for Miami City Ballet — and you’ll find the young American listed. McIntyre’s one-act ballet Blue Until June (2001) wasn’t just the program opener; it was an eye-opener. It beautifully captures the innate desperation of the blues. Let-it-all-hang-out lyrics come through in each dance gesture, attitude, step and shimmy. As much ballet as body language, the 32-minute Blue requires spirited acting (and) spot-on technique.”

Philadelphia Daily News

“Songs by blues thrush Etta James provides the backdrop for Trey McIntyre’s sultry “Blues Until June,” a 2000 piece that packs a wallop. Young master McIntyre has achieved great success with this ballet, which sets “St. Louis Blues,” “At Last,” “One For My Baby” and other gems into fluid motion.”

The Cincinnati Post

“The duets between the men and women have an aggressive intensity to them that often turn the partners into combatants. It’s exciting movement set against James’ often wrenching vocals.”

The Berkshire Eagle

“In Trey McIntyre’s “Blue Until June,” they’re lifting one another with the physical courage and emotional clarity of ballet, infl ected like a swing dancer canted onto her partner’s hip.
In “Blue Until June,” McIntyre choreographs to the music of Etta James, and seven dancers embody a collage of relationships. They trace clear arcs of wanting and pleasure, of holding on and coming apart.
Some play out in longer duets, or solo, as Pedro Garcia comes up against a room full of couples already taken. A tour en l’air becomes the fi erce reversal of a struggle with loss. Some interactions come and go in fl ashes, taking a hand, the turn of the head.
Anaya Gonzalez and Katie Garcia are moving on their own, vividly independent, and Brenan Gonzalez and Chandler Davidson are coming together, fi ghting to hold on even as they’re pushing each other away. Even when relationships come apart, you can feel their presence. Dancers draw one another with a magnetic pull, and Lord, you know why they’re trying.
The company bring a vigor of movement throughout the night — closed fi sts, taut muscle, the sheer strength of excitement and need. They could be feeling the pulse of jazz clubs on Central Avenue in the 1930s, when Etta James was singing in a gospel choir in the Watts neighborhood or soaking up jazz in the Fillmore in San Francisco.”