Dance Review: Three rooms

Celebrity dancer-choreographer Ido Tadmor premiered works by three choreographers, celebrating 30 years on stage.

By ORA BRAFMAN
Three Rooms dance performance (photo credit: Gadi Dagon)
Three Rooms dance performance
(photo credit: Gadi Dagon)
Celebrity dancer-choreographer Ido Tadmor premiered works by three choreographers, celebrating 30 years on stage.
An outstanding dancer with extraordinary technique, Tadmor left the Batsheva dance company for New York in the ’90s to pursue an international career, but returned after a serious leg injury. As a choreographer, he was known for powerful works making excessive use of dramatic elements, emotionalism bordering on pathos and a strong need to glorify his physical attributes. Those days, no other male dancer could top the grandeur of his stage persona. The evening was an opportunity to see if he still has it, and whether the years had revealed new facets to him as a performer.
Rachel Erdos choreographed a solo for him, supported by a cello player, called and Mr., in which he sheds layers of jackets to reveal the true, soulful and humble character she devised for the piece. Tadmor stuck to the role as far as he could, but underneath some resistance was obviously brewing.
All that energy was finally released in Empty Room, that he created for himself and Mira Rubinstein, the right partner for the hilarious, nonsensical piece that revealed fresh, sharp colors, the likes of which we’ve never seen from him before. It was the first time Tadmor actually seemed totally loose, and for long moments he allowed himself to act like a fool without seeming to worrying if he still looked gorgeous. Which he did.
Dancer-actress Mira was a wonderful partner to all his antics. As far-fetched a piece as it is, Tadmor keeps the right pace and, more importantly, a good sense of proportion. The piece struck just the right balance between movement and voice, between clowning and dramatic buildup.
It was the best, most enjoyable part of the evening.
The third dance was created by Ariel Cohen, and singer Rotem Nahmani joined Tadmor on a trip to a yet another alternate reality. She groaned and moaned (beautifully) while he pranced about in a tutu made of blond fibers, in a ballet parody of sorts. The images were compelling, but overshadowed the logic of the narrative.