Jada Ammons, Kamani Abu, and Adanna Smalls in Renée I. McDonald's "Likes vs. Life." Nir Arieli Photo.
Imagine a rich fuchsia night sky flecked with hints of purple, a clothesline on a perfect slant, dancers clad in sheer shorts and shirts that allow light to bounce off each limb. Imagine a bluesy tune inviting viewers into the embrace between dancers, their faces etched with solemn expressions before they burst into a lively groove. Close your eyes and imagine eager children watching the performance with the look of someday that will be me on their determined faces. This is Ailey II and its sweeping, foot-stomping intensity.
The company came to the Shubert Theatre Saturday night, in a triumphant return trip to New Haven. Performing for hundreds of New Haveners—including some dance enthusiasts who haven’t yet finished middle school—they showcased the sheer breadth of the stylistic work that Ailey II does, a tradition that builds on the company’s roots in transformative modem dance.
The company, which lives within the wider Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre, was founded in 1974 as an initiative of the Alvin Ailey Repertory Ensemble.
Ailey II (Kamani Abu, Jada Ammons, Carley Cruzat Brooks, Meredith Brown, Christian Butts, Jennifer M. Gerken, Xavier Logan, Xhosa Scott, Adanna Smalls, Darion Turner, Eric J. Vidaña, Jordyn White) in Chalvar Monteiro's "Berry Dreamin." Nir Arieli Photo.
In each number, the company showed the profound impact that movement can have—and the worlds that it can communicate—with a language that is entirely physical. During Chalvar Monteiro’s “Berry Dreamin,” several spinning bodies revealed how deeply all creative beings are connected to nature (after all, weren’t we watching a graceful tornado?), with a backdrop-turned-sky that changed colors.
Around them, Chuck Berry sang—Maybellene Why can’t you be true? Oh, Maybellene, why can’t you be true?—and silhouettes echoed through chiffon in precision. The nonverbal communication between each dancer was the stuff silent films are made of: words were unnecessary. Had there been no music, the movement would still have been heard.
At a different moment in the song, dancers leaned into Berry’s words, and reimagined what modern dance theater could look like altogether. Hands clapped. Bodies laid on the ground. One appeared, momentarily, to be slain. Claps resurrected the soul, and then the celebration continued.
Surely, this is how it’s done. We rally around each other to show support with anticipation of healing and care. The message, which Monteiro choreographed and premiered this year, is as relevant as it was when Alvin Ailey first dreamed up the company in 1958 almost seven decades ago.
Ailey II dancers in Rena Butler's "In Session." Nir Arieli Photo.
“Some of the dancers have been dancing since the age of three,” Artistic Director Frances Harper said during a talkback. After their training with Ailey II, which sometimes entails dancing three or more hours a day, “many dancers go on to do great things.”
“It’s bigger than you and there are other people on the stage.” added dancer Xavier Logan, who said he records performances to study his movements and improve on his work each time. “I make mistakes, but I don’t make the same mistakes.” Instead, he brings a constant learning to the stage, and to cities that Ailey II graces with its presence when the group tours.
Inspiration is the other element Ailey II dancers brought to the Shubert. At one point during “Berry Dreamin,” all six dancers (Kamani Abu, Jada Ammons, Meredith Brown, Jennifer M. Gerken, Xavier Logan, and Jordyn White) ran in place, their eyes fixed on destination. A sense of urgency filled the stage, making its way into the audience as if by an artistic osmosis. Applause flowed (it had to, there was no other choice). Synergy ensued. In the audience, it felt like a palpable reminder that a performance is an amalgam of things: choreography, costumes, lighting, movement, music, set design, and timing, but namely, focus.
During the final dance, Rena Butler’s 2025 “In Session,” the troupe took the audience to school in stylized prep school costumes, black and white shirts and ties, some leaving more exposed than others. Countless dancers “stepped” in drill team fashion, bringing to mind the rich choreography that often springs from inner cities and makes its way into the mainstream. A dozen dancers gathered closely together and blossomed like flowers responding to sunlight. We, in the audience, were in full bloom, pollinating in excitement.
“It’s powerful,” said attendee Richard (he declined to give his last name) after the show. For 20 years, he’s been coming to the Shubert for performances. Saturday, he came to the New Haven Green for the “No Kings” rally, and stayed for dinner and a show. “I love the contemporary dance and African influence and the acrobatics.”