8 THENEWYORKER,FEBRUARY10, 2020
ILLUSTRATION BY JUAN BERNABEU
The men of Che Malambo charge like a stampede and dance like cow-
boys—the Argentine kind. Malambo, a centuries-old gaucho style, is
competitive and macho. Heads and torsos ride haughtily over legs that
buck, twist, and beat out rhythms, often ostentatiously on the rims of boots.
Drums slung over shoulders sometimes take up the beat, as do boleadoras,
weights attached to ropes that are thrown to ensnare cattle on the run. These
tools, swung like lassos or jump ropes or yo-yos, are visually spectacular
musical instruments, whipping the air and striking the ground. Imagine
a stage full of those whirring implements, some held between teeth, and
you get a sense of why the roars of this troupe of twelve sexy, sweaty guys,
directed by the French choreographer Gilles Brinas, are usually answered
by whoops. They gallop into the Joyce Theatre Feb. 11-16.—Brian SeibertARGENTINEDANCE
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THETHEATRE
The Confession of Lily Dare
Cherry Lane
This zinging, swinging new work, an hom-
age to Old Hollywood movies, written by
Charles Busch and directed by Carl Andress
for Primary Stages, is best experienced with
a group of willing laughers, and, preferably,
one or two close friends. Once the laughs get
going, there’s no stopping them; no matter how
cheaply they’re won—some of these gags are
banana-peel slips of pandering fun—you might
as well surrender. Busch plays Lily Dare, an
orphan who rushes through an unbelievably
busy time line of a life—earthquake victim,
cabaret singer, inmate, famous madam, and
on and on—as she nurses her secret of a long-
lost daughter. Jennifer Van Dyck plays several
characters, including Lily’s daughter, Lily’s aunt,
and an undercover cop, all hilariously. You might
be tempted to call this camp—that’s the word
most often used in association with Busch—
but it’s a hell of a weird, subtly dark good
time, and a tutorial on the workings of melo-
drama.—Vinson Cunningham (Through March 5.)Grand Horizons
Hayes
Bess Wohl writes fluid comedies that are like
sitcoms in tone and structure but hide a kernel
of darkness within. Her latest, “Grand Hori-
zons,” is her Broadway début and works just fine
as a specimen of her style. Bill (James Crom-
well) and Nancy (Jane Alexander) are senior
citizens tucked away in a gated community, yet
they muster the energy to divorce. Their sons,
Ben (Ben McKenzie) and Brian (Michael Urie),
descend on the house in a confused fury—is the
split the result of somebody’s oncoming de-
mentia? The play, directed by Leigh Silverman
for Second Stage, is a comic machine: there’s
a laugh a minute, and the actors, especially
Alexander and Urie, milk quiet moments for
a few more. But the best bit of the show is one
that’s purely theatrical—something goes boom.
The satisfaction of that set piece yields another
realization: it’s the only thing Wohl offers that
wouldn’t translate just as well on a screen.—V.C.
(Through March 1.)My Name Is Lucy Barton
Samuel J. Friedman
Laura Linney stars in a one-woman adaptation
of Elizabeth Strout’s 2016 novel (directedfascinating exhibit “Ballerina: Fashion’s Mod-
ern Muse.” The tutu, particularly the long, full
Romantic tutu—think “Giselle” rather than
“Swan Lake”—has inspired countless evening
gowns by designers from Coco Chanel to Pierre
Balmain and Christian Dior. So, too, has the
point shoe, represented here in various fetish-
istic reinterpretations by Christian Louboutin,
Noritaka Tatehana, and others. The exhibit also
examines the phenomenon of the ballerina as
fashion icon in a section devoted to the ward-
robe of Margot Fonteyn, the British ballerina
who came to symbolize elegance and poise in
mid-century London.—M.H. (Feb. 11-April 18.)Whelan, now the company’s associate artis-
tic director. This week, and through the end
of the season, it will be performed in a pro-
gram (“Classic NYCB I”) that includes two
additional rarities: Jerome Robbins’s 1982 trio
“Concertino” and a male solo from Balanchine’s
“Episodes” (1959), originally created for none
other than Paul Taylor. Balanchine said that the
solo was meant to bring to mind a bug strug-
gling in a glass of milk. On Feb. 6 and Feb. 9, it
will be performed by the luminous Paul Taylor
dancer Michael Trusnovec; the remaining per-
formances will be by Jovani Furlan, who learned
the solo from the last City Ballet dancer to work
on it with Taylor, Peter Frame.—Marina Harss
(Through March 1.)
Deborah Colker
Joyce Theatre
In “Cão Sem Plumas” (“Dog Without Feath-
ers”), the prominent Rio-based Companhia de
Dança Deborah Colker takes a trip to north-
eastern Brazil, along the Capibaribe River. The
region appears glamorously in black-and-white
film, directed by Colker and Cláudio Assis:
cracked riverbeds, burning cane fields, and man-
grove swamps, all ornamented with mud-caked
dancers. Onstage, in mud-patterned unitards,
the dancers move acrobatically but stick close to
the ground, as if only half emerged from a state
of nature. In a meandering travelogue of images,
they take on aspects of herons, mangrove trees,
a giant crab.—Brian Seibert (Feb. 4-9.)Gabrielle Lamb
Gerald W. Lynch Theatre
A rising choreographer already laden with
awards and commissions from regional
troupes, Gabrielle Lamb has yet to make a
commensurate impression with her own com-
pany, Pigeonwing Dance. Her latest piece,
“Plexus: a work in knots,” extends her interest
in interdependence and interlocking forma-
tions. To a chiming score by James Budinich,
the dancers get tangled not only in one an-
other’s limbs but also in bright-green cords,
which they occasionally unspool from their
mouths in the manner of Martha Graham’s
“Cave of the Heart.”—B.S. (Feb. 7.)“Fashion’s Modern Muse”
The Museum at F.I.T.
The links between ballet and fashion are many:
both depend on the young and the lithe, both
emphasize accessorizing and presenting the
body. Both, too, embrace chic, nostalgia, and
the glorification of the foot. The conversation
between the two forms is rich fodder for the