“Also stunning are the star turns of Chanel DaSilva, Lauren Edson, and Travis Walker in “Bad Winter” (2012). DaSilva’s solo is a study in contradictions — she sports spotless white tails, but over informal dancewear; she dances to the whimsical “Pennies From Heaven,” yet moves with a tautness that keeps any suggestion of frivolity in check — and its relation to the duet that follows is purposely enigmatic. The duet, however, stings like a fresh wound, as Edson and Walker portray a couple fighting to hold onto both themselves and each other. At one point, Edson sticks her head under Walker’s shirt, vividly suggesting both a desire for blindness and a willingness to be swallowed up; a moment later, she’s wearing the garment and Walker is exposed, vulnerable. When she tries to return it, he flings it away and, lying on the floor, arches in a kind of agony while she hovers over him, her arms protective, like the wings of an angel.”
“Such glimpses into the Korean contemporary dance scene were welcome, but two works by Mr. McIntyre, performed by his company alone, deserved to close the program. “Bad Winter” began with the radiant Chanel DaSilva in a tuxedo jacket, capturing the desperate cheer of Arthur Tracy’s Depression-era recording of “Pennies From Heaven” with silent tap steps.
The dance’s second half might have been one of those adolescent duets that you see on “So You Think You Can Dance?,” except that Mr. McIntyre undercut the schmaltz with anticlimax and awkwardness. Ashley Werhun dragged Travis Walker by his T-shirt, then worked the shirt onto her own body before giving it back to him. That was a relationship in a nutshell, and a genre redeemed.”
“The program’s fascinating middle piece, Bad Winter, which premiered last February, was intriguing and at times unnerving. It opened with a punchy, defiant solo for Chanel DeSilva set to “Pennies From Heaven.” She wore a bare-bones tank top and shorts, with a white tailcoat that suggested she might be a master of ceremonies. Then the lights came up on a remarkably intimate duet for Lauren Edson and Travis Walker, who moved with wariness and exposed nerves—grappling, pushing one another away—to two songs by The Cinematic Orchestra. He literally gave her the shirt off his back—she ducked her head under it from behind, and suddenly she was wearing it—but they ended in a forlorn standoff, the shirt crumpled and tossed over his prone body as she loomed over him. ”
American choreographer Trey McIntyre’s “Bad Winter” was an individually intriguing but unrelated solo and duet. The marvelous Acosta, in white tail coat and leotard, moved with slithery, commanding urgency to an old-fashioned recording of “Pennies From Heaven.” Daile Carrazana (Malpaso’s other co-founder) and Manuel Duran were gripping in an emotionally charged duet to a Cinematic Orchestra ballad – its pop melodrama leavened by a strange sensuality and the dancers’ powerful connection. When she slid her hand down his bare chest, you held your breath.