Mark Morris and his "L'Allegro" return to Seattle for 20th-anniversary celebration

Mark Morris, the one-time "bad boy" of contemporary dance, is in serious danger of becoming a Grand Old Man.

He may be only 51 years old, but with the 20th-anniversary celebrations of his famous work, "L'Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato," the Seattle-born choreographer is getting the kind of treatment reserved for stars who have already ascended into the pantheon. "L'Allegro" will be performed with the Seattle Symphony at the Paramount Theatre today, tomorrow and Sunday. Panel discussions about the piece took place last month. And two Morris-connected photo exhibits are currently on display.

The evolution of "L'Allegro"

"L'Allegro" got its start in Seattle in 1985, when Morris heard the Handel work of the same name for the first time. When he was in town last month — dressed in hiking shorts and shirt, with a pale shawl flung around his shoulders as if to ward off Seattle's April chill — he recalled his first encounter with the 1740 oratorio.

He was introduced to it by Erin Matthiessen, a one-time lover and later one of the performers in "L'Allegro."

"The recording was ... Martin Pearlman? Banchetto Musica was the group, from Boston. It was a very rough tape recording, and wonderful."

Morris added: "I thought I was a Handel snob already — I just didn't know that piece. It's not done that much. It was something that I was very attracted to."

Ideas for a dance work soon started percolating. At one point, he and his company were going to collaborate on it with the Boston Ballet — a plan that fell through.

As it turned out, "L'Allegro" was the first work Mark Morris Dance Group performed after taking up residence in Brussels' Théâtre Royal de la Monnaie in 1988.

"In moving to Brussels," Morris recalls, "the first thing that came to my mind was to do something on a gigantic scale. Immediately. Without hesitation."

While "L'Allegro" was triggered by Handel's music, Morris went back to the two poems by John Milton that inspired the composer: "L'Allegro," in which "unreproved pleasures free" are celebrated, and "Il Penseroso," which argues for a more thoughtful, melancholy approach to life. (The music's "Il Moderato" component was added by Handel and his librettist Charles Jennens.) The version of Milton that Morris read had illustrations by William Blake, so the 18th-century poet-artist influenced the piece, too.

"L'Allegro" has been called Morris' signature work and masterpiece. But Morris is cagey about seeing it that way himself.

"First of all," he says, "if you think you've made up a master work, you're an idiot. If it's your masterpiece, you should retire — whatever it is. I think it's a very, very beautiful piece, and I'm very proud of it. I've never called it a masterpiece — but I don't argue with people who do."

In a happy place

Morris has always come across as an ebullient personality. But with the passing of years, does he see new sides to the work? Perhaps darker dimensions?

Not so.

"I was very aware of every detail 20 years ago. But it probably makes me cry less than it used to. If anything — this is what will sound the vainest part — I see it now as an extremely sophisticated construction. I'm proud of my young self. There's not a missing or loose thread. And it looks spontaneous. It looks free. And my dancers are fabulous. ... I'm pretty happy now, actually. I'm probably happier than I was when I made this up."

Morris is alluding to his 1988-91 tenure in Brussels, where his succession to Maurice Bejart's Ballet of the 20th Century as the Théâtre Royal de la Monnaie's company in residence was notoriously controversial.

"It was a rough ride putting this thing together," he remembers. "I was monstrous. We had just moved to Brussels. Everything was new and weird. And people were waiting for me to make one misstep so they could just trash me."

The 1990 American premiere of the work got more straightforward acclaim, with Anna Kisselgoff of The New York Times calling it "a glorious outpouring of dance invention and humanistic imagery."

Powerful connections

This weekend's staging preserves the original piece with only minimal logistic changes: "Just very small weird things, to pace everyone's evening. Some people were getting way too much to do, and some people not nearly enough." Morris notes that while everyone is doing "the same text," dancers new to the piece naturally bring something fresh to it.

This weekend also marks Morris' first collaboration with Seattle Symphony director Gerard Schwarz. Can he tell Schwarz when to pick up the tempo?

"Oh, absolutely," he says. "Otherwise I wouldn't do it."

Morris and the late Craig Smith (from Boston's Emmanuel Music) put together the original performing arrangement for the work, and the interpretation of their score, Morris emphasizes, is "very, very limited in many things. Not just tempo, which is what a lot of people think is the only thing that can influence dancers, but cadenzas, every part of it. So, yes, I have full influence."

Schwarz will be coming to rehearsals in New York ("because he has to," Morris says with a grin), but once the performance is on, of course, it's out of Morris' hands.

"I don't run down the aisle of the theater, upset," he adds, chuckling, alluding to an incident involving former Pacific Northwest Ballet co-director Kent Stowell and conductor Stewart Kershaw at a New York performance in 1996.

"L'Allegro" isn't the only Morris work we'll be seeing in Seattle this year. In November, "A Garden" (set to "a Strauss arrangement of Couperin: fabulous weird music") will be part of a "New Works" program at Pacific Northwest Ballet. And PNB did another Morris work, "Pacific," last year, at artistic director Peter Boal's invitation.

"Both of these pieces were choreographed originally for San Francisco Ballet," Morris says. "I don't do a new piece for a company until I believe they can maintain my work as I like it." So what can we expect from the Morris-Boal connection? Is it just getting started?

"Yeah, and we hope to have more dances there in the future. That's all."

Michael Upchurch: mupchurch@seattletimes.com