King Glover: The reign in Spain

The Joyce Theater curtain comes up on Savion Glover's SoLo in TIME, and--blam!--there he is, up on his tap floor, tapping away. Right away. In your face. On a stage rendered as stark and intimate as a tiny, dark, smoky nightclub.

Everything about this says, "Let's get back to basics and down to business." And I say, the man is working. Let the man work.

SoLo in Time does have the expected Glovericious arc of musical exploration, though. I really didn't care for Glover's move into classical beats, Classical Savion, a few years back. Looked and sounded like oil and water to me and very unnecessary, though others--touched by the stellar hoofer's interest in Western classical music, I guess--embraced it.

Others might not fully grasp his new flirtation with flamenco in SoLo in Time, but I dig it. It's a more felicitous affair, flamenco itself is all about blended cultural currents--and groovy ones at that--and Glover seems more at home. He has absorbed much about flamenco's presentation and percussion, and his knowledge is well displayed by his engagement with collaborating artists--flamenco singer/dancer La Conja, flamenco guitarist Arturo Martinez, percussionist Carmen Estevez and the foxy bassist Andy McCloud. Fellow dancers Marshall Davis, Jr. and Cartier Williams provide backup when not gorgeously rocking out themselves.

Aggressive. Secure. Joyous. This is the Savion we love to see. His footwork, sharp and sweet and unbelievable. How the hell does he get those sounds?

Best of all, although doing the crosscultural thing so popular with tappers these days, he does not pander to his audience. He expects us to be schooled in flamenco ways and tap ways and to keep up our end of the bargain. Keep up with him.

Tall order? Well, here's a moment that will really challenge the best of you: Towards the end of the show, La Conja and the musicians form a loose circle while Glover--tucked to the side--faces the back of the stage and throws down. (All I could see, basically, was the bobbing of dreadlocks.) You can hear him, but what he's doing doesn't seem to have much relationship to what anyone else has on his or her mind. Has he forgotten them? Forgotten us?

Okay, kids! What's going on here? Listen up!

Everyone's holding the space for Glover, holding it nice and steady and safe, so that he can do his trance dance. For the moment--now, don't freak out folks; it's going to be okay--he's gone. Glover's gone. And we can't follow him. And we should respect and allow him his prayer space.

I think he has gone to the land of the ancestors. To forebears like Hines and Condos and Slyde.

We don't get to see his adorable, gleaming face because this moment is not about us.

What's cool here is that you can hear the exact moment when something breaks, his feet slow down and he's coming back. Soon after that, he turns his dancing sideways--his often-favored position on stage--and faces La Conja and looks out to her and to this world, interested and engaged again.

SoLo in TIME ends this coming Sunday. Contact the Joyce quick!