Amazing. Simply amazing.

I'm about to tip the topical balance of this blog decidedly in favor of the dance genre. But I'm ahead of my game for once, so I wanted to post that if you live in the Boston area, you ought to consider seeing Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater this weekend at the Wang. Tickets are a little bit pricey, but students can score $20 rush tickets (cash only) at the box office an hour and a half before each show. In my opinion, there is no better way to celebrate Black History Month.

Firebird, the opening act, was weird, as Maurice Béjart's choreography often is. Honestly, I wasn't a fan. The dancers, as always, were spectacular; they did what they could with what they were given. The corps de ballet costumes amount to lumpy grey pajamas. Sometimes they weren't exactly in unison, but they can't be blamed for that either. The New York Times review of the Ailey company's performance referenced an old quote by critic Clement Crisp: "Béjart and Stravinsky is one of those fabled partnerships, like Romeo and Goneril, or bacon and strawberries." (Yeah, I've been waiting to bust that one out for a while.) Crisp is right. Béjart, rest his soul, got a lot of things right with this ballet, especially the staccato, bird-like movements of the title character. But he was not a master of musicality.

The second act, which included Camille A. Brown's new work Groove to Nobody's Business, made me smile. It's a little vignette about people on public transit, set to music by Ray Charles and Brandon McCune. Here I must mention the incomparable Renée Robinson, whose staggering old-lady character holding her aching back was both a spot-on impression and a hilarious reference to her own 26-year career with the Ailey company. And in Robert Battle's Unfold, Linda Celeste Sims--whose back must surely be made out of rubber--was lithe and elegant without being delicate or pretentious.

Which brings me to Revelations. Whenever I see it listed on the program, I sigh a little bit. Going in, I always feel like it's overdone. I've seen it before, and I'd rather see something new for a change. Then when it starts, and I see the emotion that the dancers pour into every little movement, I change my mind. It has aged a bit since its premiere in 1960, but it never gets old. It's still touching, still relevant, and still awe-inspiring. And I know this is maybe a little melodramatic, but it makes me proud to be an American. Proud that my country has produced a work of art this unique, time-tested, and inspirational. Proud that Ailey was able express our nation's history of racial and cultural oppression in a way that can make us smile without trivializing the experience of racism. And whenever I see it, I know I'm watching a living part of American history. This is the one piece of American dance that everyone should see at least once in their lives.