Velocity is An Emotional and Thrilling Triple Bill at Houston Ballet

Mixed repertory programs are always something special, especially when they come from a company like Houston Ballet, known for firmly placing its proverbial finger on the pulse of . It's something Houston Ballet does well and does again during their latest triple bill, mixed rep . If it were a person, the oldest work on the program would be barely old enough to drink (Stanton Welch's ), another just entering its teens (Aszure Barton's ), and one (Silas Farley's ) a world premiere, essentially making it a newborn.

For the second time, Houston Ballet has opened a mixed rep program with Aszure Barton's . The first time was in 2019 when the work premiered in Houston, 13 years after Barton created it for the needs-no-introduction Mikhail Baryshnikov.

Featuring 13 male dancers dressed in black, the half-hour-long work is reflective, its pensive mood permeating every gentle, repeated gesture, like the precise shifting of weight as dancers lean to-and-fro. The undercurrent of the piece appears to be time, the setting a dim other world lit by Leo Janks, a place where a dancer, once young and now not, seemingly contemplates his life while sharing the stage with 12 (ostensibly younger) men. This would be the role Baryshnikov danced, here performed by Connor Walsh. Walsh dances the part with subtlety and fluidity, communicating emotional depth through twists and spins, shimmies, and arches of his back.

It's here, in each deceptively simple and familiar move, that Barton most impressively shows how much humanity can be found in a simple swipe of your face or a hand, outstretched and wobbling, and how much emotion can be mined from a long beat simply spent on an empty stage, where 13 chairs sit forgotten.

The musical piece that lends its name to the work is Vladimir Martynov's six-movement "Come In!" Martynov's title refers to the response one might (hopefully) get when they knock on heaven's door, a concept that plays out musically with the strikes of woodblocks often paired with Katherine Burkwall-Ciscon's charming celesta. Beatrice Jona Affron leads the Houston Ballet Orchestra for this one and leads with ease, with the strings, in particular, making themselves known, such as when Walsh takes a spin around the stage to their playful tune. approaches its subject with sensitivity, specifically centering the vulnerability of men, though even in its approach, the dancers often look stage right, as if to say in their angled eye line that yes, you can see inside, but I can't always acknowledge that I'm letting you. The next two works, however, tend to look right at you.

There's always a lot of excitement for a world premiere, and Silas Farley didn't disappoint. Farley's is built around the four different types of love found in Greek thought, by way of C.S. Lewis.

The first love, "" or familial love, takes the form of a tender mother-daughter relationship between Jessica Collado and Tyler Donatelli played against achingly sweet melodies from Kyle Werner's commissioned score. Donatelli floats across the stage, Farley's choreography is airy and light, and the dynamic between Collado and Donatelli beautifully switches at the end, as parent-child relationships tend to do.

," which dominates the second section, refers to the love between friends, and the buddies are played by Eric Best and Naazir Muhammad. Best and Muhammad capture the happiness in this section, which is off and running quickly with legs beating together, , leaps, etc., all set to an equally active turn in the score. Lewis famously said that friendship "must be about something," but it was hard to get a sense of any somethings here. Also, far be it from me to deny someone on stage a chance to catch their breath, but there was a bit too much time with Best and Muhammad standing and watching from the sidelines.

Romantic love, or "Eros," begins with a solo by Beckanne Sisk before she and Chase O'Connell come together to dance one of the most purely romantic to grace the Houston Ballet stage in I-don't-know-how-long. It was almost a shame when the ensemble appeared – almost, because much like Sisk and O'Connell appeared to only have eyes for each other, the audience still only had eyes for them. The final section, , refers to a spiritual love, represented by a trinity, or trio, of dancers – Julian Lacey, Gian Carlo Perez, and Harper Watters. Lacey, Perez, and Watters serve as the piece's through line, appearing in each section and furthering the idea that the divine is present in all types of love. The music, which built to a crescendo in each section, adopted an increased pace and more percussive crashes for a wildly dramatic portrait of . I don't know if you can spoil a dance, but just in case, let's say persecution, resurrection and exaltation, and a visit to heaven (?) were not on my bingo card for the evening.

Stanton Welch's , which closes the program, speaks to something a bit more primal than either Farley or Barton. Actually, let's start here instead: is a lightning strike in the form of a dance. For those who like classical ballet vocabulary thrown at them at high speed – without sacrificing technique or precision – Welch's breath-stealing is for you.

Created in 2003 for the Australian Ballet, the 33-minute ballet made its Houston premiere three years later. Eleven men, all in black, and eleven women in tutus, classic white and pancake-flat, dance in front of a geometric, Piet Mondrian-inspired backdrop (all designed by Kandis Cook). From there, there's certainly no discernible narrative, and there doesn't need to be, though, without something to hold to, the one downside to is that it continues just long enough to start feeling aimless. The work opens on a ballerina, an eye-catching Danbi Kim (who stole the piece along with Angelo Greco), with men posturing in shadow behind her. From there, it's a whirlwind of movement set to two equally dizzying Michael Torke pieces from the '80s. There are leaps and rolls, fouettés, ballerinas tossed and caught out of the air, stamping feet, synchronized movement, and a lot of stares – it really seems that Welch choreographed with the confidence that no one would be able to look away and he was right.

is a beguiling crowd-pleaser, and it's easy to see why. And paired with Barton and Farley, it's also the crescendo the evening needs, the exclamation point on yet another terrific mixed rep program.