A Fine Finish

If “Lee Daniels’ The Butler” (reviewed elsewhere in this issue) focuses on the African-American march toward civil rights, Kyle Abraham’s dance epic, “Pavement,” at Jacob’s Pillow last week, tells a darker story of black life in America. Inspired by Abraham’s childhood in a very distressed Pittsburgh and by the film “Boyz n the Hood,” which chronicled the influence of gangs on young blacks, “Pavement” is about love, loyalty and loss. The stage is simple. A basketball hoop hangs on the back wall, and the floor is taped to look like a court. Abraham enters alone, moving in his unique style that blends classical lines, a street strut and his undulating torso and sweeping arms. A white man, Eric Williams, comes on, takes Abraham by the shoulders, and lowers him to the floor face down, placing his hands behind his back. At first it seems almost gentle, but the movement and image appear again and again: one man placing another into the position of helplessness. A second white man enters, and he and Williams high-5 each other, strutting off gleefully. The company — six men and one woman — blends tough street moves and Capoeira (Brazilian martial art combining dance, acrobatics and music), with high jumps, fast turns and quicksilver changes of weight and speed. One signature move is a sort of hitch kick that ends in a floating high extension. The men banter, threaten, pose, and sometimes fight. In a spoken section, Abraham starts harassing his friends for a few dollars, a handful of Doritos, any kind of help. His pleas quickly escalate from comedic to desperate naked cries of “please help me!” The score moves from Bach and Vivaldi, to chilly Britten songs, punctuated by sounds from the “Boyz in the Hood” soundtrack — children playing with a gun, staccato gunshots, women screaming. It ends with a suite of three sweet hopeful songs from Sam Cooke and Donny Hathaway, finishing with “Someday We’ll All Be Free.” But the freedom may be ironically meant. By now, everyone is face down, hands behind them, in piles, one on top of another. Freedom in death? The dancers are all superb. A particular standout is Chalvar Monteiro. His long arms and legs are all elegance and ballet, his short torso and hips undulate and writhe to a different beat. Eric Williams is very tall, but tremendously controlled. And the one woman, Rena Butler, has all the powerful attack of the men, plus a delicate fluidity of her own. Wearing a plaid flannel shirt tied around her hips, she looks tough but very vulnerable. Abraham is a fast-rising star, and this piece showcases why: His unique choreographic language, powerful storytelling and ability to coach his dancers to a level of clarity and nuance have created an evening of extraordinary artistry. This completes the Pillow’s 2013 season. For information, go to www.jacobspillow.org.