The Choreography Conundrum: When Lighting Steals the Show

The Opera House’s recent production of Lewis Major Projects’ Triptych has left audiences and critics pondering a curious case. Despite featuring stunning lighting and beautiful shapes, the choreographic depth falls short. This is not an isolated incident but rather a symptom of a larger issue plaguing the modern dance world.

The rise of spectacle-driven productions has become increasingly prevalent in recent years. Choreographers often rely on elaborate lighting and visual effects to carry the show, rather than crafting compelling movement. While this approach can be breathtaking, it raises questions about artistic merit. Are we witnessing a shift away from traditional choreographic principles or is this merely a natural evolution of the art form?

Lewis Major’s Triptych, with its four segments drawn from three award-winning works, exemplifies this trend. The lighting design, courtesy of Fausto Brusamolino, is indeed breathtaking – a masterclass in harnessing light to create an immersive experience. However, as the production wears on, it becomes clear that the choreography itself is not quite up to par. Prologue shows promise with its stately poses and futuristic light prisms, but Unfolding’s over-reliance on kinetic lighting strains under the weight of its own ambition.

The use of lighting in dance has long been a powerful tool for creating mood and atmosphere. However, when it is used to compensate for weak choreography, the result can be jarring. In Epilogue: Act 1, Major’s dancers struggle to find their footing as the score – a beautiful lament by A Filetta – fails to elevate the duet to the level of artistry required.

This phenomenon is not unique to Triptych or even Major’s work. The dance world at large seems to be grappling with an identity crisis, struggling to balance artistic merit with spectacle-driven production values. As we continue to push the boundaries of what is possible in terms of lighting and visual effects, we must also ensure that our choreographic principles remain grounded in tradition.

The next steps for Major and his team will be telling. Will they revisit their earlier work, refining the choreography to better match its artistic ambitions? Or will they continue down the path of spectacle-driven production, relying on lighting to carry the show? The answer will likely have far-reaching implications for the modern dance world as a whole.

Triptych’s shortcomings serve as a reminder that true artistry lies not in dazzling visual effects but in crafting movement that speaks to something deeper within us. When choreography is reduced to little more than a backdrop for spectacle, it loses its potency. The dancers of Triptych may have been statuesque and strong, their shapes beautiful to behold, but ultimately, their performances lacked mature choreographic depth.

In the pursuit of innovation and spectacle, we must not sacrifice the very essence of our art form. The lighting may have stolen the show, but it is up to us to ensure that our choreography remains true to its own merits rather than relying on visual effects to compensate for its shortcomings.