Erin Bomboy

Imagine a love so powerful, so all-consuming that it literally incinerates you and your paramour. Now imagine waiting for this love to be consummated for something like two decades. Finally, imagine that this romantic conflagration takes place at the Metropolitan Opera House in front of thousands.

The opening is arresting: eleven dancers stand in a row, facing the audience. Attired in janitorial midnight-blue jumpsuits, their motionless, emotionless presence hints at something ominous, unsettling. The cast of Oona Doherty's Navy Blue They stare at us. We stare at them. Then, movement breaks the standstill. Heads quiver; bodies drip to the floor. In canon, billowy port de bras open the arms all the way to the side, (just so you know, canons will appear regularly).

The cool kids swept into New York City Center on strong gusts of wind and a torrential downpour. Nederlands Dans Theater, though, brought no promises of spring warmth nor hopes for gentle breezes. Instead, it alighted with scowls, strident walking, barely-there costumes, electronica, strobe lights, pitch-black cycloramas, and bleak depictions of community. The cool kids will do as cool kids do.