Capturing Relationships in Movement

Doug Varone’s choreography is at its extraordinary best in groups, the larger the better. Even when they are moving all together, his dancers very rarely move in complete unison. Instead, they ebb and flow and swirl in counterpoint, like a living organism. But the dancers never lose their individuality to the group either, nor do they seem like parts of a machine, or birds (as in Merce Cunningham’s work) — each is unique and memorable and human.

“Castles,� from 2004, started last week’s program at Jacob’s Pillow. At first, the dancers, dressed in richly colored tunics over pants and lit by thick shafts of white light, just walked around the bare stage, looking at each other. But they quickly burst into pulsing, flowing motion. The music, Prokofiev’s “Waltz Suite, Opus 110,� is propulsive and romantic.

All the dancers were marvelous but Julia Burrer, tall and angular, stood out for the surprising liquidity and effortless power of her movement. Netta Yerushalmy was her opposite: Compact, with a thicket of dark curls, she gave off sparks as she moved with blinding speed. Varone’s dancers have a ballet-based technique, with its upward reach, but the movement is not overtly balletic — an occasional deep arabesque refers to classical dance.

A duet between two men, Daniel Charon and Alex Springer, provided contrast to the group scenes. They may have been lovers, or strangers meeting for the first time, or enemies. One bumped the other on the chest with his head, but gently, as a love tap. Watching them, I was reminded that in almost any dance with lifting or partnering, the dancers will touch each other in unusual places. Usually this invasion of personal space is unacknowledged, but here it seemed as if the men sometimes batted each others’ hands away as if propriety had been breached.

The second piece on the program, “Short Story,� a bittersweet duet set to Rachmaninoff, couldn’t compete. Charon and Natalie Desch, in dark clothing, enacted a subtle and sad moment in a couple’s relationship. The pounding, melodramatic piano music underscored the distance they failed to breach.

“Lux� was another big group piece, set to Philip Glass’ “The Light,� with the kind of ever-flowing and repeating figures Glass is known for. Though beautiful, the repetition and the lack of clearly shaped scenes was exhausting to watch.

More than any other company I’ve seen this season, Doug Varone’s dancers made me wish I could leap on stage and join them. Watching them, it’s impossible not to get caught up in the simple joy of dance: moving to music.