This past weekend, Contra-Tiempo swept a rapt audience off their feet at The Ford in Hollywood with the Afro-Carribean rhythms and dance rituals in ¡azúcar! The evening length work envisioned and instigated by company director Ana Maria Alvarez featured a cast of exquisite Latine and black dancers who evoked the history of the colonial Americas as experienced through the enslaved bodies laboring in the sugar cane fields. With creative guidance and contributions by company members Jannet Galdamez, Kati Hernandez, Ruby Morales, and Jasmine Stanley-Haskins, the evening was a triumphant dance experience that had the audience dancing in the aisles by the end of the night.
Additional company members included Alék G Lopéz, Maria I. Garcia, Edgar Aguirre, and Jose Jose Arrienta Cuesta, each of whom brought a palpable depth to the dance event. The cast entered the performance space dressed in flowing white skirts, lacy tunics, and lightweight pants designed by David Israel Reynoso. The performers ran up and down the aisles, cheerfully greeting each other with heartfelt hugs. They traversed the house of the theater using the empty theater seats as a jungle gym for movement exploration and play. They inverted and balanced, walked across the arm rests, and jumped over seats. Meanwhile a matriarchal figure in an ornate, sparkling headdress, played by Afro-Cuban dance master Kati Kernandez, slowly entered the stage carrying tall staves of sugar cane which she pounded on the floor once before laying them down in position and repeating the ritual. The dancers then gradually collected on the stage alongside an additional cast of community performers, lifting up the sugar cane props (as well as real sugar cane stalks) to begin an honorific greeting of the space and each other.
The company members then began a powerful movement ritual set to polyrhythmic drums. They danced with the sugar cane props, raising and then pounding them on the floor. Holding firmly on the anchored props, they circled hips and shoulders, undulated their torsos, and stepped in rhythm. They danced in reverence to the crop, the land, and the ancestors that worked them. Momentary bursts of solos and duets showcased each of the dancer’s unique strengths, sometimes featuring complex footwork from Latin social dance, flowing spines of Afro-Caribbean dance, Capoeira-like martial arts, and more. The individuality of these solos allowed each company member a chance to share their personal movement perspective and embodied identity.
The evening of movement ranged from iconic salsa dance footwork (performed in unison, partners, and as Rueda Casino), to post-modern partnering, and a b-girl duet. The different styles of dance gave texture to the storytelling centered around dance’s ability to transform and transcend. Led by Hernandez in a Shaman-like role of the divine feminine, the performers at one point danced themselves into a trance before being resurrected again through rhythm. In this way, they reenacted for us the story of redemption found amidst hardship and oppression. The silky transitions between segments allowed the narrative to exist in a timeless space. Video projections further abstracted the space with smoky and swirling images and outlines of dancing human forms. Following a montage of plantation images, the following quote by Resmaa Menakem appeared in handwritten script: “History lives in and through our bodies right now and in every moment.” The quote acted as an anchor at the center of the dance experience framing the piece firmly within a social justice context. This evening of dance allowed another forgotten thread of history to surface, to gasp for air and see the light.
Pre-recorded spoken word was introduced midway in the performance, interwoven into the crafted soundscape. As we heard the stories of suicide deaths in the ocean as a means of escape, a large blue tarp was carried out and used as a parachute mimicking the movement of waves. The dancers crossed, rolled, and slid underneath; some escaped to the other side, while others fell victim to the weight of the water. The dancers poured large burlap sacks of white sugar on the flattened blue tarp as others taped down its edges so they could dance on it without it shifting. An impressive duet by two b-girls was a highlight of the evening. Each woman possessed a unique power and fluency amidst the sticky sugar that unified them as they danced. They were playful and fierce.
Later, an oversized yellow and red piñata was carried out and two dancers beat it down while others looked on, chewing unceremoniously on sugarcane. Once broken open the piñata revealed no candy but rather a long rope. Red like blood and thick like rope for hanging, the dancers entwined themselves in the story of this red rope, their gestures reaching outward from the wrapping line as they became more and more entangled. The cast then worked together to gather the heavy red rope, all of the pinata remnants and heaping piles of sugar into the center of the tarp. They worked together to wrap it into a cylinder before heaving it onto their shoulders and carrying it up the stone steps like a corpse in a funeral cloth. This moment of gravity was patiently overseen once again by Hernandez, who was now crowned by a stunning royal blue headwrap.
The show ended with one final rebirth, as the dancers reemerged to cumbia rhythms and the unmistakable vocals of Celia Cruz. The dancers once again embraced life, drawing sweetness from their souls, from each other, and from the hope of a new future. The cast of community performers rejoined the core group of nine dancers in a closing ritual, growing the cast of diverse bodies and backgrounds into the narrative of resilience and rebellious celebration. The cast spilled into the house and invited the audience to dance with them before sealing the evening with an extended sound bath and Q&A.
The attention to the social nature of shared stories is part of what makes Contra-Tiempo a social-activist company that walks the walk. Throughout the performance one could note creative and design decisions made with the spirit of inclusion and reparations at the heart of the process. Production details, such as beginning the pre-show announcement in Spanish followed by English (rather than the typical reverse), continually reminded us of the indigenous and imported labor on which so many structures of the America’s were built.
The outstanding musical accompaniment by Rashaan Carter, Anais Maviel, and Robert “Bobby” Wilmore, ranged from simple and sparse female vocals to thick polyrhythms. The island percussion and jazz harmonies laid a strong foundation for rhythmic footwork and undulating torsos. The soundscape was able to meet the authentic vibrancy of the traditional movement vocabulary while balancing it with contemporary concert dance structures.
The carefully attended lighting design by Tuce Yasak and aforementioned video projection design by Meena Murugesan merged with the movement and original sound composition under the direction of Maximiliano Urruzmendi to transport the audience to the islands of the Caribbean. The natural background of The Ford’s outdoor space was absolutely perfect for hosting this dance ritual. Saturated lighting revealed the natural background filled with agaves and mature palm trees at precise moments to evoke the feel of the pre-colonial Americas, native and wild spaces yet untouched by modernization or industrialization.
The Ford is right to celebrate this LA company by hosting their work as part of the summer programming. A tropical inspired event that highlighted the excellence of dance theater that draws from diverse, social, and indigenous dance forms, ¡azúcar! is a triumphant work that can be enjoyed by all and honored by ancestors of our past and generations or the future.
LA Dance Review 
Leave a comment