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In the latest modern-dance drama by Chicago choreographer Eduardo Vilaro, female dancers begin as children playing with dolls, become teens struggling with their first pairs of high-heel shoes and transform into young women tasting early romance.

The 25-minute dance, “Quinceanera,” culminates in a vibrant festival with bittersweet undertones, reflecting Vilaro’s mixed emotions about the “Sweet 15” rite of passage many Latinas celebrate. The work serves as a prism through which the audience can perceive aspects of the quinceanera, a coming-out party that links young women to their cultural traditions but also may be felt as restrictive and a bit frightening.

“I always felt quinceanera was a ritual that tied me to my heritage,” says the Cuban-born Vilaro, 41, who participated in many quinceaneras. “But it’s also the kind of ritual that implies what is expected of you in order to fit into society.

“In creating this dance, I asked myself, What is the need for quinceanera? And the need is to relieve yourself of innocence.”

Though the quinceanera is for girls, young men play an important part, serving as escorts and partners–or galans–in the waltzes performed at the parties.

Vilaro’s dance company, Luna Negra Dance Theater, premiered the piece Oct. 8 at the Harris Theater for Music and Dance in a performance presented by the Mexican Fine Arts Center Museum. Vilaro plans to keep the work in the company’s repertoire.

Vilaro commissioned Mexican-American visual artist Luis DeLaTorre to craft a massive backdrop. In its original conception, the backdrop depicted a swirling, brightly colored gown flanked by high heels and encircled by leaves that refer to nature and indigenous cultures, with a blooming flower at the center of the gown. DeLaTorre viewed the shoes in particular as a symbol of “the woman taking her path in life,” he says. (In the performance the shoes and leaves were left out.)

The Chicago artist has seen local working-class Latino families spend up to $40,000 on quinceanera parties. He believes they’re motivated by a strong desire to preserve a rite of passage that dates to the Aztec civilization and thereby remain connected to their roots. But he also understands the ambivalent tone of Vilaro’s dance.

Leaving family’s protection

“It can be sad because parents are essentially pushing the girl out of the protection of the family unit and into the big world,” says DeLaTorre, 36. “The fear has to do with the unknown and how fragile our world is.”

Nevertheless, many girls look forward to the attention their quinceaneras bring. Michelle Manzanales, a Mexican-American dancer with Luna Negra, recalls her “Sweet 15” as “a huge gathering of family” in her native Houston. About 300 people attended. One of her favorite parts was a ceremony in which 15 young couples–each representing a year of her life–presented her with a candle.

In Latino neighborhoods, most women go to seamstresses who specialize in quinceanera and wedding gowns, Vilaro says. Manzanales treasures her white quinceanera dress because her mother sewed it for her–a tradition passed down through the generations in her family.

“It was expected that I would wear the same dress as a wedding gown, and I would like to,” says Manzanales, 30. “But that hasn’t happened yet.”

Vilaro’s dance is set to varying music that includes excerpts from a contemporary score, “Planos” (“Planes”), by Mexican composer Ana Lara. In a phone interview from her home in Mexico City, Lara says she had no desire to undergo the ritual when she turned 15. Instead, she chose to use money that would be spent on the extravaganza to travel and pursue her interest in music.

“I wasn’t necessarily rebelling against anything,” says Lara, 45, whose score, “Don Quixote Dances,” is the music for another Vilaro dance that was on the same program with “Quinceanera.” “I didn’t want a huge party.”

Tradition loses urgency

But Lara, who is the eighth of nine children, noticed that a quinceanera celebration was important to her older sisters. She felt that the tradition was not as crucial for her generation because women have more options in their lives.

Because immigrant communities arrive at different times in the United States, each generation of women somewhere may or may not be anticipating their quinceaneras, depending on how deeply they want to be tied to their cultural identity, Vilaro says.

But because the ritual originated as a prelude for a wedding, are some young women today resisting it?

Manzanales thinks that might be happening, but she views the event as a liberating experience that opens the door to adulthood’s limitless possibilities.

“For me, quinceanera represented the fact that I was growing up and would be taking on more responsibilities,” she says. “But it also meant that I would have more freedom.”

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ctc-woman@tribune.com