Kyle Abraham’s ‘Pricey Lord, Make Me Lovely’

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Park Avenue Armory, New York, NY.
December 14, 2024.

Dear Lord, Make Me Beautiful…Kyle Abraham poses this request in his latest work, presented at the Park Avenue Armory this winter. For 70 minutes, the audience watched as 17 dancers explored what this means and undoubtable feel the nuanced and complex ways we all ask this for ourselves. Abraham, at 47, joined the ensemble cast and danced in his own work in the first time in nearly a decade. His inclusion in the work added the esoteric element we rarely see in dance: a seasoned choreographer performing their own work years after many people stop dancing. The result is something we should see more of, because the impact was significant.

Dance is largely a young person’s pursuit, shifting by middle age into teaching and choreographing for many. The uncommon occurrence of someone like Abraham putting himself onstage is of personal interest to me, as someone just a couple years younger than he is and still dancing. I’ve long maintained there is a richness and poignancy to watching a dancer who has been through life put those experiences into the steps on stage. Dear Lord, Make Me Beautiful proved my theory correct.

The vast space of the Armory hosted a stage with a sloped backdrop, awash in projection of verdant leaves, moving slightly. Abraham appears with his signature smile, running in circles and over time morphs from a body with the youthful energy of child to the labored effort of an elderly human. As the ensemble fills the space, he disappears into the group becoming one with the community he created. Vignettes develop from the large group and we see dancers coming in and out of different aspects of life. No dancer is the same, but they all share a command of technique that allows the ideas Abraham seeks to explore blossom.

The dance morphs through ideas of the passage of time and the anxiety of life as one ages. We see tableaus of dancers, each seemingly a presentation of the eras we all experience. The world created by Abraham and the dancers reminds us of the one and the all, and how we are each the one and the all at different times in life. The projections shift tones from color, to sepia, and finally cease to exist all together, leaving a stark white stage as the piece ends. While I can’t speak for the Lord, the work is certainly beautiful and a clear result of the amalgamation of many thoughtful dance decades, revealing a rich and recognizable tapestry of humanity.

By Emily Sarkissian of Dance Informa.

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