The Paul Taylor Dance Company, here tonight and tomorrow, is bringing three new works to Washington. Two pieces, “De Suenos” and “De Suenos que se Repiten,” are dreamlike evocations of Mexico. Both — asked forare commissioned by the Kennedy Center, perhaps mindful of its role as an international cultural center.
“It’s a jumble,” Mr. Taylor says happily. “There’s Aztec ritual and Christian implications, a girl who sells flowers and a little Mexican folk dance.”
The reason there are two dances on similar themes, according to Mr. Taylor (who shies away from sounding arty or highfalutin) is because “there was more music on the Kronos Quartet disc, so I made another one.”
That’s a typical Taylor ploy — a sort of “Aw shucks, I don’t know where it comes from.” But in truth, although he works fiercely and fast, one gets the feeling he’s sometimes puzzled by his own artistic process.
The program’s third work, Mr. Taylor’s choice, is “Beloved Renegade,” about one of his heroes, the poet Walt Whitman.
“I admire Whitman, I’ve read and re-read his writing and read writings about him. I tried to get a little of that in the dance.”
Mr. Taylor has been described as the world’s greatest living choreographer. Yet that seems inadequate when describing his stunningly wide-ranging talents. Dance. Art. Writing: Paul Taylor has left his indelible mark on them all. And he started early.
Born in Wilkinsburg, Pa., near Pittsburgh, he grew up in the Washington area and went to school here in the District.
“The James S. Oyster Elementary School,” Mr. Taylor recalls. “I liked it. The teachers were very nice to me. They had me keep drawing things that we could put up for decorations. In fact,” he adds with a laugh, “I got through my whole education just drawing.”
Although no one in his family was artistic, he casually drops one clue to his early involvement in the arts when speaking of a childhood full of constant moves and new situations. “Like a dance, they showed me another world,” he says.
Through the years, he has created his own worlds. His 130 dances have been seen all over the globe, and 75 companies have performed his works.
Tackling yet another art form, Mr. Taylor penned an autobiography, “Private Domain,” in 1987. Breathtakingly honest, thoughtful, in-your-face and still in print, it’s been hailed as a unique description of a creative artist’s life.
Now the choreographer says, “I learned I like to write by doing my autobiography, so, just for fun, when I have time I’d write little pieces. It wasn’t the idea they’d be published. I’d set little exercises for myself like ’OK, I’ll try to write in this voice or that voice.’ There’s one with two people talking to each other, but I only wrote what one of them says, and the reader presumes what the other one has said.
“But now it seems that some of ’em are going to be published because there’s a lady on our board — she puts books out, and I met with her and her editor not long ago, so the plan is to put ’em in a little book.”
Right now, Mr. Taylor is in the throes of starting a new piece. He also has a premiere, commissioned by Dartmouth College, coming up next week.
“It’s a vaudeville-type dance,” the choreographer says. “Well, actually it’s 15 very short acts. The audience sees the activity both onstage and in the wings when the performers are offstage.”
That same public-private viewpoint surfaced in his earlier work “Private Domain,” the dance that preceded his autobiography. The stage was marked by panels that obscured part of the action, turning the audience into voyeurs, like someone secretively watching figures in an apartment across the street.
No other choreographer covers such a wide palette as Mr. Taylor, from the lovely, warmly human (“Esplanade” and “Roses”) to the terrifyingly grotesque (“Last Look,” being danced here this spring by the local CityDance) to everything between those two poles. And he frequently packs a wicked sense of humor. The range of emotions is extraordinary, full of vitality and, considering the sensitive nature of some of his themes, remarkably free of any kind of “message.”
Like his hero, Walt Whitman, Paul Taylor embraces. He doesn’t preach.
WHAT: Paul Taylor Dance Company
WHEN: Evening performances are at 8 tonight and tomorrow; a matinee performance also is scheduled for tomorrow at 2:30 p.m.
WHERE: Kennedy Center Eisenhower Theater
TICKETS: $22 to $65
PHONE: 202/467-4600
WEB: https://kennedy-center.org
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