TIMELESS DEPTH: Bob Jungels in Dancing at the Aragon. |
An oft-repeated maxim about American vocal music holds that sibling harmonies are the closest and tightest — they’ve heard each other’s voices on a daily basis. In the Jungels household in Providence, the same must have been true for siblings who jumped around to music together or practiced gymnastic tricks with each other.In the new program of pieces at the Carriage House, titled Everett Spotlight, three generations of Jungels family members perform. In two of those generations, you see that sibling harmony at work, as Rachael and Aaron Jungels recreate their Tangled Tango (2002), and as Grace (12) and Nino Bevilacqua (10) reprise their roles in Aaron’s Silas (2003) and also perform with their grandfather Bob Jungels in Dancing at the Aragon (2006, a premiere). The fourth piece of the evening, 4 A.M., is also a premiere, choreographed and performed by Rachael.
Tangled Tango is danced to “Tangle,” by Alec K. Redfearn, performed live by Redfearn, Kathe Kostetter and Chris Sadlers, who, in various permutations, provide music for all four pieces in the program. Choreographed by Rachael Jungels, Tangled Tango mingles key elements of Everett’s style — unusual partnering and lifts, gliding and sliding into turns or whirls, caroming off each other’s bodies — with a liberal dash of ballet and a large dose of tango.
At one moment, Aaron clings to Rachael’s waist, his knees wrapped around her as they twirl, and in the next, she grabs his waist and holds on in the same way. She balances on his knee as they revolve; he flattens himself against one of her hips, as she carries him across the floor. They pause, tango-like, arms akimbo or wrapped around each other’s shoulders. As they push, pull, toss or spin one another, there’s a flow between them that’s breathtaking in its naturalness — as if they’d been doing this all their lives.
The same is true with Grace and Nino Bevilacqua. Though their movements aren’t as complicated, there’s a complete ease with one another. Their focus is on the dance, first in duets with Aaron, in Silas, and then with one another, throughout the longer Dancing at the Aragon. In the latter, they climb a tower and lean off it; they walk a slack rope; they do tumbling tricks and partnering with each other that stay closer to the floor. And Nino sings, a Celtic-inspired ballad, “Stony Grimace,” written by Redfearn.
Woven through the children’s sequences are tales of their cousin Silas, told by Aaron, and of their grandfather’s parents and grandparents, told by Bob Jungels. The Aragon piece is enhanced by videos of a serene stream, a large tree’s rustling leaves or the waves crashing on an ocean shore, all of which give Bob’s stories a timeless depth, stretching from one generation to another. Video interviews with Nino and with Grace, at different ages, add another dimension to the way we all look back at our elders and forward toward the young ones.
Rachael’s solo, 4 A.M., is a stark presentation of images from that middle-of-the-night place when our defenses are stripped. Set to “Scraping the Layers,” composed and performed by saxophonist Jason McGill, this dance looks into the darker side of the soul, where bad patterns are locked-in (Rachael’s tightly clasped hands) and old habits keep cycling (her arms in a circle, moving over her head, turning her around). Her character’s haunted eyes catch ours, as she ponders those 4 a.m. demons.
