Take a bunch of good dancers, add every modern dance cliché in the book — then multiply by three. The exciting but predictable product would be Aspen Santa Fe Ballet’s triple bill.
The troupe, which splits its time between the two Western cities, specializes in contemporary choreography. On Tuesday, it brought three recently commissioned works to The Joyce. All have plenty in common.
The opener, “Square None” by Norbert De La Cruz III, begins on a dark, gridded stage. The four men are shirtless; the three women in bustiers. The music is a jarring recorded collage ranging from Handel to Aphex Twin. And, of course, there’s smoke.
At first, the cast moves as if drugged or shocked. Then the women crawl under and over the men in athletic partnering. But the ideas remain unfinished; the Handel arias get cut off, and music box tinkling replaces it. Out of nowhere, the cast claps like flamenco dancers.
It doesn’t add up because “Square None” has the attention span of a music video.
More darkness and smoke fills Alejandro Cerrudo’s “Last,” but this time the music is low strings and distant bells, courtesy of Henryk Górecki. There’s also more clothing: Here the men wear shirts and the women short-sleeve tops.
“Last” focuses on ambivalent relationships. In several duets, the couples move together nonstop, the two running, skittering or crawling past each other, but never connecting.
This is familiar emotional territory, yet there are some memorable images. A woman wriggles under a man splayed above her as if she were passing under a limbo bar. After she leaves, he remains frozen in position — abandoned.
Jorma Elo’s “Over Glow” has more shirtless guys but a very different color scheme, all bright yellow and lime.
The dance is scored to Mendelssohn and Beethoven but without any depth. Even during a slow section with expansive lifts for three couples, Elo’s ideas run more to the cartoonish — at one point, someone’s hand tenses up to morph into a ravenous monster’s mouth.
It’s not quite up to the level of Looney Tunes: Elo’s idea of a good joke is to have a man, in mid-duet, look at us, snake his arms out and bonk himself on the head.
The hardworking dancers almost save the evening. They’re handsome, lithe and make everything look good.
If only they had better material.