Dance Review: Gauthier Dance at The Joyce

New York City is considered the international hub for dance for two reasons: the many renowned dance companies based here and the world-class dance companies that come through to perform. Gauthier Dance/Dance Company Theaterhaus Stuttgart’s engagement at The Joyce Theater through March 16 is evidence of the latter and a reason for New Yorkers to rejoice.

Gauthier Dance was founded in 2007 by Artistic Director Eric Gauthier, a former soloist with the Stuttgart Ballet. The company of sixteen dancers has quickly made a name for itself and regularly performs works by Gauthier and internationally renowned choreographers. The mixed bill at The Joyce features New York premieres from Sharon Eyal, Hofesh Shechter (both former dancers with Tel Aviv’s legendary Batsheva Dance Company) and Gauthier, and an audience favorite from Ohad Naharin (Batsheva’s former artistic director and current house choreographer).

The program opens with Eyal’s Point (2022), a trio about envy commissioned by Gauthier Dance for the project The Seven Sins, in which seven choreographers were invited to create a new work based on one of said sins. Eyal, born in Israel and now based in France, danced with Batsheva for almost 20 years and was also one of their house choreographers before starting her own company L-E-V Dance. Her style is distinctly her own but very much indebted to the Gaga movement language, which Naharin created with the company during her time there. Gaga is all about heightening sensation in the dancer’s body, finding new movement habits, and breaking free of rigid dance training.

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The “new movement” sentiment is apparent in Point, where the three women in white leotards and tights move around each other in a way that, from a distance, looks classical but, up close, is not at all. Their elbows are inverted, their shoulders hiked up. They grab at their throats menacingly and sink into grand pliés in second position with turnouts so angular they seem unnatural. Indeed, there is much that is atypical about their movements in general. Toward the end, once they’ve overcome their splintering duets and solos and joined together, they walk around with quick little steps on relevé, pausing to perform a kind of robotic salsa to Anne Müller’s classical-but-also-not musical score, then a sort of robotic voguing. Point is cold and rigid at times—and perhaps purposely so—but impressive.

The next piece is Gauthier’s tongue-in-cheek solo ABC (2019), danced by Shori Yamamoto. It begins with Gauthier’s recorded voice warning the audience that the following production will be performed by a professional, and to not try these moves at home. Then, Gauthier’s voice goes through the alphabet (hence the title), reciting words and phrases that deal with dance, while Yamamoto expresses them through movement. The result is a playful game between the “omniscient narrator” and the dancer and also the dancer and the audience. Some words are ballet terms, but others are more surprising, like “intermission” (the dancer steps back and the house lights come on for a moment), “old” (he holds his back, wincing) and “Pina Bausch” (he smokes an invisible cigarette). In the occasional pauses, Yamamoto performs virtuosic leaps and jumps. When I was in attendance on opening night, the audience was clearly delighted—laughing and “ooohing” along.

Next up is Shechter’s Swan Cake (2021), one of five variations on the classic ballet Swan Lake commissioned as part of Gauthier Dance’s project Swan Lakes. Shechter, born in Israel and now based in London, is the founder and artistic director of Hofesh Shechter Company as well as Gauthier Dance’s artist-in-residence. Shechter’s version of Gaga is different than Eyal’s (and Naharin’s, of course). Where Eyal’s choreography can be post-human, Shechter’s can be pre-human. Almost animalistic. Both movement styles, though, are deeply rooted in sensation and the body.

Swan Cake begins with the house lights still up. Shechter’s infectious electronic score pounds as the cast of nine runs onto the stage in hip street clothes, clapping to the beat. They invite the audience to clap, too, (which we happily did) while they nod and step and pop their chests. Then—black out!—they reappear in dim light, clumped together and dancing, no longer aware of us, one large pulsating organism. There is something sublimely ritualistic about the piece. Something happens that goes beyond the movement or the music, and it’s hypnotic. There are glimpses of swan-like arms, but these swans aren’t interested in drama. They are cool AF. Near the end, the music shifts, and it sounds like we—by this point, the audience is part of the experience, too—are right outside a club, hearing the beats through the walls. And then it seems we are being beamed up in a spaceship. And then the melody from Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake pushes through. And it all feels right. That’s the strange magic of Swan Cake. After, someone behind me whispered, “I want to watch that every second of the day.”

Closing the program is Naharin’s iconic Minus 16 (1999). What can I say about this Israeli masterpiece that hasn’t already been said? Everyone should see it. Full stop. One interesting fact about Minus 16, which has been performed many times by many companies around the world, is that it is never the same. Not only does it involve improvisation on the part of the dancers, but the structure itself changes. The piece is made of excerpts from Naharin’s early works, and how Naharin picks and arranges those excerpts differs depending on the company he is setting it on. So, even if you’ve seen Minus 16 before, you haven’t seen this Minus 16.

Sixteen dancers clad in black suits and hats sit in chairs arranged in a semicircle on the stage. They all stand up, fall down, recover and then throw themselves into an arch one by one—a stadium-style wave ending in one dancer being tossed to the floor by an invisible force. This happens again and again as they shout-sing along to a hard-rock version of the Jewish Passover song “Echad Mi Yodea.” It is tedious and profound. Then they throw off their hats, their jackets, their shoes and their white shirts, revealing dull gray tank tops and shorts beneath.

Later, six dancers stand at the front of the stage in their gray underclothes and present a bizarre, perfectly precise “ballet class” to the sound of a metronome. Later, two dancers perform a sensual duet to classical music. There are moments that bring to mind swordplay, sex and true love. Later, the cast is back in their black outfits, wandering the theater in search of new dance partners. Audience members are brought up onto the stage and invited to mambo with them. On opening night, the women chosen didn’t miss a beat. They went along with it all exquisitely, especially the woman at the center who—to her great surprise—was lifted up and spun around in her sneakers and jeans.

Gauthier Dance got a standing ovation that night, and for good reason. They’re a burst of fresh air in a city that, though a hub, can feel stagnant. And we could all use some fresh air right now.

Gauthier Dance/Dance Company Theaterhaus Stuttgart is at The Joyce Theater in New York City through March 16, 2025.