What's a choreographer to do when he finds the received languages of dance insufficient to what his body longs to say? Despair? JHON STRONKS
did that for a couple danceless years, but the vow of kinesthetic silence didn't last. His body started speaking in tongues. From these pentecostal eruptions, Stronks is crafting the native language of his long body and lithe limbs. Think ballet with the center shifted above the hips, modern with an angular attention to every joint, found movement from addictive tics, and the complex hand rituals of a star slugger in a slump. Too long silenced, Stronks sometimes tries to say too much, but his shockingly original choreography speaks a burning vitality into the peace he seems to be finding.