Trying to describe the Atlanta Ballet’s debut performance of big would be like trying to describe an obscure chemical reaction between two elements on opposite sides of the periodic table (yes, i’m a bit of a science geek). Only metaphor and simile would do the job, but even the best of those would inevitably fall short of imparting the essence of the experience. The best description I can offer is this: Imagine you’re sitting at home listening to one of your favorite Outkast albums while flipping through TV channels with the volume muted. You happen across a ballet on PBS and you pause just long enough to think to yourself, “heyyyy… isn’t that funny? It almost looks like those ballerinas are dancing to ‘Bombs over Baghdad’”. 

Hip-hop and ballet are two art forms that could very easily be considered the noble gases of music and dance culture. Each is defined by its iconic characteristics. Hip-hop is baggy jeans, white tees, gold chains, and baseball caps. It’s machisimo and bravado set to thumping beats. Its heritage is poverty and hard knocks, and at times it can be overtly sexual and misogynistic. In sharp contrast, ballet is all silk, tulle, and tights. It is the epitome of poise and delicateness, cast against a backdrop of meticulously crafted melodies. It speaks to an audience that reeks of privilege and wealth, and is one of the most elegant, though restrictive celebrations of the feminine form in motion.

So who in the hell would ever conceive putting these two forms from opposite sides of the tracks together on one stage?

According to an article in the NY Times, we have John McFall, the Atlanta Ballet’s artistic director, to thank for that. After approaching Outkast’s Antwan ‘Big Boi’ Patton with the idea, Big Boi agreed and set to work coordinating the production with Laurie Stallings, the choreographer for big. In a way, it’s quite appropriate that Big Boi be involved in such a work of fusion. Outkast has been one of the more recent pioneers of hip-hop hybridization, blending elements of funk, rock, R&B and classical music in both their sound and visual imagery. However, Andre ‘3000’ Benjamin has always been seen as the more eclectic one of the duo, so big was clearly a ripe opportunity for Big Boi to add another facet to his more conventional rapstar image. And for another interesting twist, both Stallings and Patton admitted to having almost no knowledge about the respective genres each one works in.

As it unfolded onstage, the resulting collaboration was exactly what you’d expect from a first-time meeting of 2 cultures – each one almost completely uninformed of the other. Most of the choreography wasn’t directly linked to the cadence or the subject of the songs performed by Big Boi, so there was the overall feeling that the stage had been double booked for the night, but neither the rap concert nor the ballet recital wanted to cancel.

Some parts were head-scratchingly impossible to decipher, like the scene featuring a gaggle of kids running, jumping, and flipping in migratory bird formations for almost 5 minutes… without any music whatsoever. Or the piece where a single ballerina danced a fluid solo with voice-over narration delivered in Mandarin, the lone English phrase being: fried shrimp.

Other parts of the show resulted in some pleasantly unexpected synergy. Janelle Monae’s performance mid-way through the night was one example. Clad in a tuxedo jacket and a frilly tutu, Janelle sang her ass off as a ballerina danced around and with her, with Janelle cheekily mimicking the dancer’s moves and ultimately moonwalking off the stage. Big Rube’s appearance was another genuine crowd pleaser. He stood in the center of the darkened stage, reciting a poetically political version of a bedtime story, while a dancer performed beside him in a shaft of sparkly light. At the end of Rube’s poem, the ballerina leapt into his arms and he carried her off stage, eliciting an “awwww” from the audience.

Still others were absolutely breathtaking to witness – like the couple who danced to “I Can’t Wait” with Sleepy Brown accompanying. Or the two performances that made use of overhead ropes for dizzying aerial numbers.

On more than one occasion during the evening, I couldn’t help but wonder what was the stranger pairing – the mixture of cultures on stage or the mixture in the audience. During intermission, the lobby was a surreal mezcla of jerseys, baseball caps, and sneakers interspersed with suit jackets and cufflinks. The audience’s confusion of how to respond during the performance was as palpable as it was amusing. The looks on people’s faces revealed that most didn’t know if they should clap politely, or throw their hands in the air and wave ‘em like they just didn’t care. Then slowly, the subtle brilliance of it all dawned on me. Where else would I ever see this cross-section of people experiencing the same feelings of awe, shock, and thrilling excitement to be witnessing a groundbreaking, boundary-challenging event? This was like the A&E equivalent of an extreme spectator sport.

So the question remaining to be answered is: was big a successful experiment? Well, I guess that would depend on the intent. If the purpose was to spawn a new and lasting art form…I’d say, no. But if it was just to see all the pretty colors and shapes that would result from the merging of two different worlds for one night, I’d say it was a big success. But written in lowercase.

cheers,

k