BERKELEY - Bring Yo-Yo Ma together with Zakir Hussain and what do you get?
Mark Morris.

Explore the culture of Central Asia and what music do you play? Schumann,
of course.

But, dash it all, who cares about small organizational problems like
that when the delights of "Silk Road" open up to you, when Ma, Hussain
and Morris are having fun, sharing it with the audience.

It's clear that this project is still in the state of becoming, that in
drawing up the plan there was enough confusion to result in a variety of
programs, the difference not clearly communicated to those buying tickets
in advance for the sold-out performances - and none of that is important.
What Ma's "Silk Road" offered today in Zellerbach Hall ranged from
delightful to grand - even if it had virtually nothing to do with the
history or geography of the trading route through the Taklimakan desert
or, truly, with the culture of the area, past or present.

Unlike next week's "Silk Road" performances, featuring music from Armenia,
Turkey, Azerbaijan, Iran and Japan, today's program showcased the Mark
Morris Dance Group throughout, in two "Asian-influenced" works and what
I think is Morris' greatest accomplishment, the 2001 "V," to Schumann's
Piano Quintet.

Next week, there will be conferences and symposia for ethnomusicologists,
linguists and historians, open to the public.  For information, see
http://www.silkroadproject.org and http://www.calperfs.berkeley.edu/

Today, there was only minor or crossover representation of the Silk
Road proper, beginning with the 1995 "World Power," to Lou Harrison's
music.  Performed by members of the Gamelan Sari Raras, Harrison's work
provided Morris the excuse to have great fun with faux-Oriental movement,
his dancers performing extraordinarily well in funny, charming unison
passages, against the unlikely counterpoint of a Greek-chorus recitation
from Mark Twain's report on the Philippine War:

"We have pacified some thousands of the islanders and buried them,
destroyed their fields; burned their villages, and turned their widow
and orphans out-of-doors; furnished heartbreak by exile to some dozens
of disagreeable patriots. . ." The less you ponder the contrast - conflict
- between music and dance on the one hand and the grim text on the other,
the better off you are.

A world premiere followed, "Kolam," to music by Hussain and jazz pianist
Ethan Iverson.  (The title is a Tamil word for decorating with powders
to draw patterns in the only art form in India that transcends caste and
religion.) Hussain, Iverson and Ma performed the music sitting in the dark
on the side of the stage, taking themselves completely out of the
spotlight, not making an entrance, trying to avoid notice.

The music is hard to describe, except for the movement clearly in Iverson's
jazzy idiom.  Hussain on the tabla assigned little to himself, Ma carried
most of the work with a sound neither Indian nor contemporary Western, but
something in-between.

Morris has risen to the occasion once again, with a large-scale, energetic
piece, an audience-pleaser.  Concession to the supposed theme came again in
movement reminiscent to Indian dance and, in one segment, the use of ankle
bells.

As in its premiere here last October, "V" became the overwhelming
artistic/emotional success of the concert.  Against the charm and
entertainment of Harrison's and Hussain's pieces, "V" is a giant of
modern dance, gripping, moving, unforgettable.

In its vital relationship with the music, "V" is like a Balanchine
work: it translates the music into movement, creating patterns, not a
step-by-note, but illuminating Schumann and at the same time putting its
stamp on the music - the next time you hear the Quintet in E-flat major,
you will SEE it in Morris' interpretation.

Fourteen dancers, divided in two colorfully-dressed groups, bring the
music to life with fidelity, insight, imagination.  As at its first
performance, so soon after Sept.  11, "V" had a great emotional impact as
well, with its energy, warmth, physical and spiritual embrace of the world.

In a stunning concept, Morris has the dancers crawl to the halting,
stammering, grief-stricken music of the second movement, then they rise,
crouching, stand up straight and go on their way in this simple and highly
effective "illustration" of the musical line.

Morris' tools are simplicity, following the music's "text," providing
images both highly individual and yet universal, human and humane.  In a
long, wonderful crescendo spanning the concluding Allegro, Morris' dancers
reached high and for each others, their embrace encircling the audience at
the end, as the music permeated the hall warmly, forgivingly, in triumph.
This is the power of dance rooted in and honoring great music. . .
superbly performed.

Violinists Lisa Lee and Andrea Schultz reprised their fabulous performances
from the premiere in October, joined now by violist Jessica Troy, pianist
Han Rechtman and Ma.  I have never seen musical accompaniment for dance the
way Ma played today.  Without a glance at the score, Ma played TO the
dancers, not only for them.  The only time he took his eyes off the stage
was when he glanced at the other musicians.  It was a completely selfless,
wonderful performance from the cellist, from all the musicians.

When music and dance fuse on such high level, who cares about geography?

Janos Gereben/SF
[log in to unmask]