Symphony for the Dance Floor by Daniel Bernard Roumain. Photo Credit: Ruby Washington.

This past October, a great show took place at the BAM Harvey Theater.  Having never been to this theater, I didn’t know what to expect.  But I left feeling as though if I were to have any expectations for this hip-hop dance infused piece accompanied by unique violin elements, they would be exceeded.

The impressive lighting created an atmosphere while setting a mood and stage for the dancers as they moved graciously to the plucked and bowed sounds that drifted from the violin.  The dancers were well choreographed, not falling into each other or pacing around the stage aimlessly.  They all seemed to be were very free in the limited space they shared with each other.  Each dancer carried a unique style in this modern dance movement yet truly moved in an ensemble-esque movement.

The piano and the vocals were well suited.  Overall, the music gave the dancers pulse, which fluctuated as the music took shape.  The show was built on the concept of love and death. “Til death do us part, nothing in the world is gon’ tear us apart.  Not even death,” is a quote from the rap.

This phrase became ominous yet powerful, with the help on the dancers intricate movement. In one scene, the dancer performed an erotic, yet skillful movement against the violinist that created a tense feeling, which may have been from how sexual the scene looked. But the violinist played on—with the dancer on his back between his legs, spinning pirouettes around him like a top—which was impressive. The vocalists were exceptional.  The lyricist had a unique gritty flow that accompanied the whole show in a great way.  In this piece, SYMPHONY FOR THE DANCE FLOOR, the idea of a lyricist was a serious gamble. A bad vocalist threatens to stop any show, not just this one. Each element served a distinctive purpose, one that further expanded and built upon another. For example, the singer’s tone gave emotion to the violinist, which then gave color to the dancers. Also, there was a female vocalist who sung in a high register and was able to play the spoons simultaneously, a throwback to red skeleton.

At the end of the night I realized this show had transformed a stage that could have been a canvas for dull emotions and lame forms of expression into an innovative experience for the viewer. As the lights flashed and the music energized, the audience was indeed on the dance floor.  Unusual? Yes. Unreal? No. Because whether you were sitting in the rafters seat or at the edge of the stage, the party was on.