Koresh Dance Company presents Ronen Koresh's 'Inner Sun'

This is a fascinating concept, one Inner Sun realizes when it captures such passion and energy in movement set to lively music. In slower sections with quieter moods, the heat cools and the sun seems hidden.

Karl Mullen’s spoken-word poetry about the sun within ourselves establishes a framework supported by John Levis’s original music. Peter Jakubowski’s lighting bathes dancers in warm tones and causes the backdrop to evoke rock at the planet’s solid core, or perhaps a temple for worshipping the planet. I saw the Earth’s liquid center in flowing costumes designed by Koresh, which highlight the fluidity of his choreography and often take on the colors of light and heat.

Inner Sun is most engaging when it fills the stage with dancers and movement. The strongest sections are incandescent with spirit. In the second movement, “Ghost Particles,” dancers seem to catch momentum from one another. Bodies in motion appear to lend their spark to those who stand still until incited to dance.

Solar flair

Elements of folk dance emphasize the communicable nature of spreading fire as the dancers’ energy lights up the stage and the audience. When Joe Cotler, Kevan Sullivan, and Robert Tyler slapped their chests and a group danced in a circle, I saw both Koresh’s trademark incorporation of Israeli dance as well as the influence of Indian bhangra dance.

Other memorable sections utilize the full company or fill the stage with interesting combinations. “Imagine” recalls the dance floor at a wedding, with upbeat music and dancers seeming to freestyle as they enter one by one like arriving guests. The men dance together, followed by the women. Then the groups combine, joining hands as they form a ring. “One for the Money” features constantly shifting duets in which Cotler, Tyler, Krista Montrone, and Vanessa Guinto form male, female, and male-female pairs.

“Matters of the Heart,” presented after intermission, is a moving video tribute to former Koresh dancer Michael Velez, who died in 2017. Next, Cotler and Micah Geyer dance “For Michael,” in which Geyer’s solo reflects the stages of grief: nonlinear and moving at different speeds. When Cotler joins Geyer, they hold each other in an embrace that alternates between a wrestling match and an offer of comfort or support.

With too many sections to cover in this review, Inner Sun is long — maybe too long. Its movements shift abruptly in tone, tempo, and style so that the parts do not unite into a cohesive whole. And at times it seems repetitive. The solo in “For Michael” is reminiscent of “Forget Me Not,” a solo danced by Melissa Rector in memory of former board member David Cooper. Montrone and Guinto’s duet echoes an earlier duet between Rector and Andrea Romesser.

Inner Sun’s less successful parts resemble the Earth’s impenetrable inner core rather than the shifting energy of the liquid layer surrounding it. Nevertheless, the dance finishes strong, with the full company returning to the stage for the rousing “Sun Sugar.” Groups of dancers seem to converse through movement before combining into a larger unit. These final images reinforce the strengths of Inner Sun, which has potential to become a powerful reflection on connections between the heart of our planet and the spark of the human spirit.