Ballet Folklorico de Mexico

By Michelle Trauring

The Ballet Folklorico de Mexico transformed Stony Brook University’s Staller Center for the Arts into a time machine on the evening of Oct. 12, with a myriad of vibrant colors, movement and music – propelling the audience back to an era of love, war, religion, and most importantly, tradition.

Amalia Hernandez’s ballet, which she founded and choreographed in 1952, began with “Matachines,” an explosion of handsome men stomping downstage in tight, impeccably coordinated formations of feathered headdresses and bright turquoise, green, and pink. This movement was inspired by the customs of pre-Hispanic people to dance exclusively to worship their gods, according to the program. Their technique and execution created a dizzying effect and drew applause from the audience within the first 30 seconds of the number. The dance’s visual confusion continued as the company’s women entered the stage in costumes identical to the men's. A flurry of 36 dancers whirled and stomped around the stage flawlessly, and yelled a mighty “Ya!” upon conclusion, which was thankfully collision free.

Twelve barefoot women in orange skirts kicked off the second number, “Guerrero.” Their flirtatious yet powerful leaping emphasized the fluid movement of their skirts, and beautifully contrasted with the men in tap shoes who eventually joined them.

The third number embraced comic jealousy, as the dance began with a couple whose man became distracted by another woman, causing him to leave his current partner. In turn, she approached the ten man mariachi band, which accompanied all but a few dances, and flirted with the guitar player. Seeing this, her partner left the other woman and, in a jealous rage, knocked the guitar player’s hat off his head to the floor, reclaiming his original partner.

The subsequent chuckles from the audience fell flat as this romantic scene was quickly replaced by 14 women donning big skirts, rifles, and lines of bullets slung diagonally over their shoulders and across their chests. The name of the entire routine, “Revolution,” finally became clear as the women marched and danced across the stage, serving as a tribute to those who fought for Mexico, directly contrasting the previous polka-dancing young couple, aristocratic and unconcerned with the war and their freedom.

Romance was in the air with the fourth number, “Charreada,” made up of the Rope Dance and the Country Love Dance. The curtains opened with a single man on center stage swinging a lasso. Once joined by a woman, they shared an awkward exchange until she was in the lasso with her suitor.

Ten more couples took the stage and formed a circle around the dancers inside the twirling lasso. The choreography incorporated serapes and sombreros, and cleverly played with the oversized costumes as the men tilted their heads, covering the women’s faces with the sombreros’ brims as they “kiss,” and likewise, the men, their backs facing the audience, vertically extended the serapes, concealing their own and their partners’ bodies behind the colorful cloth. The dance was more humorous than provocative – flirtatiously suggestive as the dancers winked and smiled at the audience.

The first, and much more exciting, half of the program ended with the “Tlacotalpan Festivity,” a dance of religious celebration set in a Mexican city. The entire company was on stage once five dancers carrying huge masks on their heads joined in and descended off the stage into the audience. People from the front row willingly jumped up and danced with the masked personalities, which included a clown, angel, African boy, Indian girl, and a devil, turning the theater into a full-blown fiesta complete with clapping and high-pitched shouts of “ay-ay-ay!” from both the dancers and the audience members.

The Ballet Folklorico de Mexico followed their pattern of keeping the opening numbers interesting. As the intermission came to a close, a group of men once again graced the stage in “The Quetzals of Puebla," this time each wearing a headdress approximately six-feet-wide in diameter. The dancers’ handled their top-heavy costumes with grace, creating an optical illusion with their spinning headdresses, evoking gasps from the audience.

The second half came in with a bang, and went out with one too, but the dances in between only popped, at most. While still brilliantly choreographed and performed, they were not as memorable and couldn’t compare to the routines of the first half.

The closing number, “Jalisco,” brought the audience back to a Mexican city for a celebration of life and nationality. The dancers performed many traditional routines, including “La Negra,” “El Tranchete,” and the famous “Mexican Hat Dance.” In comparison to the rest of the ballet, this number was relatively short in length and culminated with a salutation to the audience in several blasts of streamers from the dancers.

The Ballet Folklorico de Mexico’s performance was more than a ballet. It was an escape to a different time and place where freedom, national unity, and love reigned above all. The breathtaking colors, music, and dance acted as a preservation, and as long as the former Hernandez’s dance troupe continues to perform, this era will never be forgotten.