TAYLOR'S INFERNO

In Paul Taylor's Piazzolla Caldera, the master of modern dance looks south—and sets the stage on fire

Dance

It was only a matter of time before Paul Taylor got to the tango. Sure, we've had a slew of slinky teams on Broadway, Latin passion in stilettos and open vests. But this season America's modern-dance genius has turned his sharp eye south and come up with Piazzolla Caldera, a take on the tango that has left raves in its wake. The music, of course, is the red-wine and red-blood realism of Argentinean composer Astor Piazzolla. The tango, however, is pure Taylor—deepened and detonated where you least expect it. "'Caldera' in English means the rim of a volcano,'' explains the 67-year-old Taylor. "In Spanish it means cauldron. I was hoping people would get a hot feel." The scorcher turns up next June 30 to July 5, when Taylor's troupe plays the Jacob's Pillow Dance Festival. No choreographer in the world works as brilliantly in the idioms of popular dance as Taylor does. In Piazzolla Caldera, he packs his airborne muscularity into a dance form distinctly a terre, grounded. The piece is taut, tense, and architecturally amazing, with intimations of flamenco, the bullring, and back-alley rites of spring. "It's a picture of primal urges. It's meat," he says. Suspend bare lightbulbs overhead, like stark old stars, and it's tango as big bang.

LAURA JACOBS

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