Lizt Alfonso Dance Cuba heats up Chicago

Posted on Sunday, October 31

Lizt Alfonso Dance Cuba heats up Chicago
By Debby Storms

After enduring two straight days of record cold, blowing winds last week, Chicago
needed some heating up. It arrived Friday night at the Auditorium Theater in the form of
the Lizt Alfonso Dance Cuba’s program, “Fuerza y Compás.”

This Cuban company, last seen in Chicago in 2003, specializes in presenting a blended
fusion (as they call it) of various forms of dance that have had a strong influence in Cuba,
including classical ballet, Spanish classical, Spanish flamenco, and various Afro-Cuban
forms. The result is a crowd-pleasing and energetic entertainment that’s all about swirling
skirts, percussive footwork, flashy costumes and knocking out rapid rhythms with a
precision worthy of the Rockettes.

Let’s be perfectly clear: Lizt Alfonso Dance Cuba does not present high art, but rather,
entertainment. Nor is what they do really “fusion,” but rather, a stringing together of
steps taken from the various dance traditions. For example, first the dancers might do a
classical turn, then twist their hips in a mambo-inspired gyration, then pound out some
flamenco footwork. So while you do get pieces of each, you don’t get something new.
But they execute these parts impressively, and for pure entertainment value, Lizt Alfonso
Dance Cuba packs a punch.

Personally, I love ballet, flamenco and Cuban rhythms in their pure forms. I was excited
at the prospect of seeing one company bring these all together. I had hoped to see a whole
greater than its parts. But instead of creating something new and interesting, instead,
these “fusions” tended to simply water down each of the beautiful dance traditions they
were drawing upon.

I can’t fault the dancers. They were beautiful, graceful, thoroughly well trained.
Impressively, they presented 11 different choreographies, opening with Spanish classical
using castanets, later moving into flamenco-influenced dances, and ending with pieces
showcasing more of the Cuban traditions. All of these had bits and pieces of other styles
thrown in. The cancers did everything that was asked of them – but it was all about
theatrical chorus-line showmanship done with big smiles and pretty costumes. Where was
the passion, the Cuban soul?

The evening did hold some high points. First and foremost, the company’s fabulous
musical ensemble, (keyboards, bass, guitar, electric bass, two percussionists and vocals),
deserves special mention. The guitarist really knows his flamenco riffs, making him a
treasure in the New World. The singer handled the variety of vocal styles needed with
great technique, heart, and spice, while the two percussionists provided the backbone and
energy needed to support the dancers’ two-hour marathon.

Of the dances, I especially liked “Alas Para Exister,” a duet danced by Carmen Rosa
López and Anna López in peacock-blue batas de cola (tight-clinging dresses with long

trains). Dancing in a bata is not easy: It requires special strength, skill and grace on the
part of the dancer to manipulate the bata in such a way that its movement becomes a
thrilling part of the dance. I don’t know if the two Lópezes are sisters, but they appeared
to be twins, as they were perfectly equals in size, beauty, and the ability to kick their
batas while executing complicated turns and footwork, with the illusion of no effort.

Like a fireworks display on a limited budget, the show saved the best piece for last with
the explosive “De Tierra y Aire.” Finally, the company danced as if they truly enjoyed
what they were doing. Several soloists were given the opportunity to shine, and each put
out all she had. If only all the preceding numbers could have been so alive.

If a fiery mix of seemingly never-ending percussive steps executed with perfect precision
by a corps of all-women dancers is your cup of tea, then you would love Lizt Alfonso
Dance Cuba. But if your leanings are toward dance as art, expressing emotion or making
you think, then you would have left “Fuerza y Compás” a bit warmer, but not much
wiser.