Tonight, Wednesday the 30th, America’s Ballroom Challenge begins. PBS 8 p.m.! Check here for local listings.

(image from ABC website)

Another new TV dance show, Your Mama Don’t Dance, this one on Lifetime TV, will premiere on February 29th. This one sounds pretty funny: it pairs “up and coming dancers” with their parents, the latter of whom will have a thing or two to learn for their kids’ sake, in order to stay in the competition. At the time of auditions, which have already been completed, contestants weren’t aware of these rules. I’m not sure exactly what ages the dancers are, but imagine Danny Tidwell, Pasha Kovalev, Neil Haskell being told they’d be partnering their mothers. Producer Bob Bain says it will be a “testament to how far parents will go for their children.”

Update: one blogger reports Ian Ziering (who competed on Dancing With the Stars) will host.

Maybe I’m just getting desperate, but it seems to be getting better. At least the dancing. When the two contestants from Team Bruno — Charity and Kelsey — had to sing for their lives, I nearly had to cover my ears they were both so off key. Of course they sounded fine once the recorded background singers joined in, which makes me think that what’s saving the team performances is just that. As singers, I’m really liking Mariel and Lacey and the rest I’m not so sure about. We got to hear a bit more from Chris this time — and those girls in the audience obviously love him — and he had a nice clean voice, always on note … although I’m not sure it’s memorable enough to make him “American Idol”-worthy. When Bruno announced that the award for the winning team would be a Hollywood recording deal, I thought hmmmm…

Anyway, the dancing. Overall it wasn’t really that of polished, professionals, but the choreography’s getting more fun and challenging. The opening 50s number was cute and I absolutely loved the jitterbug aerials, although none of the girls got enough speed on their jumps — or help from their guys — to propel them up very high. And when the girls jumped on the guys’ backs and did the kicks — cute but they looked nervous and the kicks were half-assed; legs should have gone up much higher. But again, with the singing and dancing combined, those require a lot of energy (not to mention fearlessness) to do them properly, and, like I said earlier, you can’t go doing barrel turns all around the perimeter of the stage while belting out Aretha Franklin lyrics; combining song and dance necessarily limits the range of movement.

Speaking of the jitterbug aerials: the background scene between Bruno and Lacey, where he taught her to trust, looked scripted, and it probably was at least a bit. But it makes sense that that he had the whole team doing that typical psych ‘fall back and trust your teammates to catch you’ excercise, given those opening aerials. Lifts, and even just some dips (I noticed throughout several chokehold dips — where the guy holds the woman up by wrapping his hands around her throat) –they can be frightening, and the woman must absolutely trust the man or both of you can get hurt. Just another thing that marks them as non-pros, but I guess that’s part of the point of the show, to turn them into real dancers.

So, it was Motown night for the team matches. I loved all the Step dancing, seeing as how I just wrote about it. I guess with all these movies — “Step Up 2” and “How She Move” — it’s making a big comeback. Everyone did surprisingly well with it too — lots of lightening-speed grand battemant kicks with underhand claps. Team Bruno’s first number, “Think (Freedom)” by Aretha Franklin, worked both because of the great use of Step dancing, and Lacey’s deep luscious voice belting out those words. Carrie Ann was right when she said it wasn’t balanced; that only Lacey shone, but don’t you need to go with what you have and put the best up front?

One thing — I think it’s rather ridiculous that they don’t have outside judges. Of course Carrie Ann and Bruno and going to prefer their own teams and criticize the other’s. I realize the public vote counts for 100%, but can’t they still hire some outside, neutral arbiters? Generally, Carrie Ann is less critical of Bruno’s team though, and more self-reflective about her own. And I think that is partly why she won the first match. She’s simply coming across as more likable than Bruno.

Carrie Ann got her team back into the team spirit with that studio football match. Kind of corny. But I like how she asked her group whom they were paying tribute to before they went on. Sometimes beginning performers forget the point of what they’re doing and it becomes just about the steps.

Overall, my favorite of the night was Team Carrie Ann’s first number, The Temptations’ “Papa Was a Rolling Stone.” It began and ended with simple steps — a lot of basic jazz side steps, step-togethers, with a foot brushed smooth and slow on its way to meet the other. But it had attitude galore and you could tell the team was so into it. And I loved how she sped it up in the middle to create a completely different atmosphere: calm, cool and collected, turned into mad crazy fast Step dancing, then back to the smooth cool. The piece had movement and structure and the dancers showed their versatility. Too much smoke though — the team was nearly engulfed by it at one point!

I was more impressed with Bruno’s second number and less so with Carrie Ann’s. It’s like each choreographer can only come up with one good number per week. Bruno’s “Caught Up” began with the dancers wielding sticks, which they used for good effect, to steady themselves as they performed bluesy swings of the head. The rhythm sped up and the middle portion, my favorite, was like a real Step dancing competition, with all members in pretty good unison dancing around those sticks. And it ended with some acrobatics by the men — flips and falls to the ground into a one-handed handstand. Tricks like this would bother me if they were the central focus, but Bruno used them only to spice up the routine and drive it to a culminating crescendo.

Carrie Ann’s “Upside Down” to the Diana Ross song, was pretty bland, and didn’t make much sense. It began with the women standing in picture frames, and the men coming to escort them out and to the center of the stage. Why? What exactly does the song have to do with woman as art object and the man as a kind of rescuer? Then, most of the choreography consisted of women doing simple stylized walks all over stage with a few upper body isolations. The movement can be simple, as long as it has attitude and meaning, and as long as it goes somewhere interesting. To be sure, Alyssa had a lovely arabesque near the end and there was a high over-the-shoulder lift, but they came too late and seemed more for effect than organic to the song. It was here that Carrie Ann should have asked herself, what am I paying homage to.

And then Team Bruno, as I had predicted, lost and Bruno had to choose a member to eliminate. Interesting set-up here. What if one team ends up losing most of its members well before the other? That’s going to be very unbalanced. And wouldn’t the season end prematurely?

It’s a toss up for me this week: I liked Bruno’s second number and Carrie Ann’s first. I’m going to go with Bruno though, since of the pieces that were so-so, I preferred his.

This afternoon I saw another “Traditions” program at NYCBallet. Go here for my description of the program and the ballets. My reason for re-seeing this program was basically that a young dancer, Daniel Ulbricht, debuted in the lead role of Balanchine’s “The Prodigal Son.” But first, Nikolaj!

The first ballet on was Balanchine’s “Square Dance” which I wrote about earlier. This is a dance that combines classical ballet with modern, American folk dance. This time, instead of Andrew Veyette dancing the male lead, we had Nikolaj Hubbe… soon to become NYCB legend Nikolaj Hubbe, as he leaves NY next month to return to Denmark to take over the Royal Danish Ballet. He’s just so wonderful, watching him is making me so sad; I feel like every performance of his from now until he leaves will be bittersweet. He’s so dramatic, so full of expression; I really hope before he leaves he can teach some of the other dancers how dramatic dancing is done. For example, the way he reaches out to something in the distance, looking out over his arm — it both elongates the line and infuses the pose with meaning. The way he flexes a foot and regards it, the way he bends a standing foot, then looks back over his shoulder at it — like it means something; it’s not just an empty image. The way he looks to a place on the stage, then runs to it; it’s like he absolutely must be there for some reason. We don’t know what the reason is, but we know it exists in his mind and we’re compelled by it. And the way he throws himself so fully into every move: when he takes a solid stand in fourth position and pushes outward as if against some opposition; the way he throws his upper body forward or backward far over his center seemingly with abandon; even just the way he holds his hands, curling his fingers. Everything he does is so full of intent and passion — this is a story-less ballet and you don’t always know what the meaning of his movements is, but that doesn’t matter. It is there and you can sense it and it draws you to him, into his world, and you’re just so sorry when it’s over and you have to leave it. I see so few who dance with that intensity and expressiveness and conviction. During the intermission, Wei, Philip’s partner, told me it’s a European thing. That Nilas Martins dances the same way. Then please please please bring on the Europeans! Isn’t the Ballet Master- in- Chief Danish? Can’t he impart some European wisdom to his dancers? Can’t he bring over some friends from the Old World. Come on, Mr. Martins, you can’t just let Nikolaj go without a replacement! Ugh, why am I just discovering him at the end of his time here… The Royal Danish Ballet is so going to thrive.

Okay, moving on to Daniel Ulbricht’s debut in “Prodigal Son.”

(all headshots, by the way, by Paul Kolnick, and from the NYCB website).

Well, there were many bloggers there today (as we had a nice little blogger get-together on the promenade, much of which I unfortunately missed thanks to an enormous line at the ladies’ room — but thanks so much to everyone who showed up and sorry if I missed any of you!) Anyway, as I was saying, there were many bloggers there today and I’m sure all of them are going to give Mr. Ulbricht glowing reviews. So, knowing that, I feel I can step out of the mold and speak my mind and be a little harsh. The complete antithesis of Hubbe, Ulbrich is a jumper, not an artist. He can jump really really really really really really really high. How high? Really high. Which is good; it provides a great many thrills for all of the teenage girls in the audience — and oh were they there today, giggling, cheering, laughing and squealing, up in the balcony. And it’s also very athletic, so I don’t mean to diss the high jumps. I shouldn’t say he is a jumper rather than an artist; maybe I should say he is an athlete rather than an artist. But my point is, he came out onstage and performed these huge leaps, NOT in order to express his character’s angst and need to get out and see the world, but in order to please those teenage girls in the audience. And I’m sorry but that annoys me greatly. He seemed to realize this early on and tried to correct it by lashing out and making angry faces at his “family.” But the angry faces were too much by that time — he overdid it and it and it seemed almost cartoonish.

In the middle scenes with the Siren, I felt like he became more himself, but too much so. He regarded the Siren the way a guy on the street would look at a cute girl. He was into her, and he let her know it. But I didn’t see him becoming bewitched by her, entranced by her spell so that it was impossible to escape. I didn’t see any real seduction; it was more like flirting.

I felt he did the best with the third part — when he was beaten and broken and trying to find his way home. But I still felt as he crawled along the floor, spotted his house, reached out for his mother, and finally embraced his father — that none of it came from within, that it was all how he thought a “prodigal son” would act. He needs to find those emotions within himself though; he needs to find his own prodigal son, make the character his own. Otherwise it looks fake and it fails to move the audience.

I do think Mr. Ulbricht has artistic potential. I felt all the things I mentioned above with ABT’s Herman Cornejo at first too, and he’s now one of my favorites. Maybe it’s just a youth thing with all the crazy jumps and bravura leaps — wanting badly to impress. It makes sense. He just needs to decide who it is he wishes to impress.

There was a new Siren too — Teresa Reichlen. I liked her beautifully expressive wrists, and, at the end of her scene, when she snatched the prodigal son’s golden chain, she had wicked greediness written all over her face. But I felt like she wasn’t much of a seductress. I realize those lifts are very very hard — standing up on the guy’s bent knees and trying to keep balance, sitting on his head while he lifts you that way, no hands… It makes sense that everyone is deep in concentration, especially two dancers who are performing the roles for the first time, which necessarily takes away from their ability to throw themselves into the roles. I do wish though that Mr. Martins would try Georgina Pazcoguin in the role. This season she’s proven herself one of the most dramatic ballerinas in the company and I really would love to see what she would do with this part. Please, Mr. Martins, let Georgina have a shot! Please, please! Janie Taylor would also be interesting. Where has she been lately?

And then the evening concluded with Jerome Robbins’s “The Four Seasons,” which, again, I described here. I really liked Sterling Hyltin in Winter. She was adorable in her shivering surprise at being snatched up into a high lift by a rolling snowball of a man, then accidentally bumping butts with a bunch of snowflake ballerinas, causing a flurry of further shivers.

Tyler Angle also impressed. He didn’t have a large part, but when he was onstage with three others, all jumping, one at a time, then together or in pairs, I noticed he looked curiously at his fellow dancers, as if asking to see what kind of spark they’d give to their little hop. The others simply looked straight on and did their jumps. It’s things like this that make a performance something far more than just a recital of choreography. Angle is getting absolute loads of critical acclaim from all the critics, so I don’t need to point out that he’s good. But this kind of engagement with a dance is why people take notice of him.

Finally, I was also mesmerized by Antonio Carmena as Fall’s impish little faun. I saw Daniel Ulbricht in this role last time, and Antonio also did well at the bouncing jumps and leaps, but he was more focused on character. And his elfin little Cupid, playing mischievous matchmaker with the leads, was charming. I haven’t seen much of Carmena but can’t wait to see more!

Glogg at cafe lalo

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

Mmmm. Delicious on a cold winter day. This restaurant is always insanely packed, owing largely to the movie “You’ve Got Mail.” I’ve never much cared for their main courses or even their desserts (most of which I find too sickeningly rich). But their specialty is definitely their cocktails, and this is their latest — mulled hot wine with a big cinnamon stick scrumptiously spicing it up. Worth the noisy crowd … once in a while at least. Also worth it to see cute Ariel all giddy about finally being in the place, being new to NY and a lover of that film We’d tried to go over the summer, with the wonderful Mr. Terry Teachout, who very graciously met up with us to give us career advice, but the crowd was out the door and all over the sidewalk, so we went instead to his favorite place, the cleverly-titled Good Enough to Eat, around the corner.

I’ll just make this into a foodie post: I must take back what I said earlier about Magnolia Bakery’s somewhat flavorless frosting. I recently had another mini-cake (okay, two) and the frosting was divine. Must just have been opening day jitters.

I haven’t liked many of the recent dance movies, so I went into this one with a bit of trepidation. But I was very pleasantly surprised. “How She Move” tells the story of Raya, a smart, hard-working high-school girl from a poor, drug infested Canadian town who manages to get into an elite private school that she hopes will lead to college, then medical school. After her sister dies of a drug overdose, however, she must return home, her parents having spent all of their savings on the rehab. Of course she faces a great deal of ridicule and taunting from her former classmates, jealous and bitter about her escaping the ghetto. Through step dance, she regains both their friendship and the funds necessary for her to continue her education. The plot isn’t fully formed, and characters’ motivations are sometimes questionable, but because it offers a clear portrayal of a specific community, is well acted, and the dancing is so strong (and dance scenes so well-filmed!), it won me over anyway.

And the plot has some nice little wrinkles stemming from the specifics of the dance. After being baited into a fight / ’step-off’ with a former rival, Raya gets the idea to join a team of step dancers, compete at an upcoming “monster” championship in Detroit, and hopefully win the $50,000 cash prize. One impediment to the award money is, these step dancing competitions in their sexism never give the top award to a girl group, and the groups are firmly gender-segregated — not because those are the rules, but because that’s just the way it’s always been. After winning a dance-off with a pompous macho shit, Raya manages to convince a male group to let her in. This of course causes some problems with the girls who’ve just come to accept her. After a few more obstacles are thrown into her path, she performs a winningly kick-ass routine with the guys, involving some unique choreography that makes humorous use of her sex, and all’s well that ends well.

So the dancing: I’ve actually never seen Step before, though I found out after the movie, over dinner with Ariel, that it’s hardly new; her mother used to dance it in college, where the sororities would organize team competitions. I love it! It’s likely evolved over the years though. To me it looked like it had roots in Irish Step dancing and Tap, and it possibly even borrows a bit from West Indian Reggae (?…), and in its current form is combined with Hip Hop and maybe Krumping, with some break-dancing tricks (head spins and arobatics) thrown in, though the emphasis was definitely not on the tricks. Dancers would swiftly raise a leg, clap hands together underneath it, slap a hand on an opposite knee, then on a heel raised up in back, all at lightening speed. This was combined with snaky, undulating body rolls, a super-fast back and forth swing of the pelvis, stylized rhythmic one-footed hops, throwing oneself bumping and grinding to the floor for body-rolling push-ups – just a lot of fun basically, and not easy-looking moves. Teams were also judged on originality of choreography and theme.

And the filming of the dance scenes is excellent. You don’t even think that much about camera angles unless you’ve seen the typical PBS-aired Ballet where someone has just plopped a camera up at the edge of the stage filming the whole thing straight on, and you moan, ugh, dance just doesn’t translate to film. It can though, and this is a perfect example of it. Camera lenses home in on a particular dancer, a body part making a most impressive movement (never smutty though!), pan out to the entire group when it’s making a cool pattern or to emphasize the synchronicity, gaze down at a lift or tumble from above or peer up at a jump from below. An experienced filmmaker with a vision is so necessary to filmed dance. I do wish, though, that at some point someone would film a turn or jump from the dancer’s perspective… I think that would be very cool.

The film is very low-budget, which I liked — I felt like its grainy quality gave it a kind of home-made, authentic look, like you were getting a real glimpse into someone’s camcorder-eye view of their world. I also thought the acting was good. Melanie Nicholls-King, who played Raya’s mother, in particular stood out. Malvin Jacobs, as the Tolsoy-toting dork also won my heart (at least I think it was Jacobs; most of these actors are new and don’t have imdb photos so I can’t be sure). Anyway, it’s a sweet movie and a nice portrait of a dance form and a community.

I’m behind on my blogging. Last Sunday, I braved the freezing cold (I HATE NY when temps drop down to the teens and single digits; all I can think of is death) and ventured up to the Guggenheim for another Works & Process event. This one, entitled “Ballet in Sneakers,” was about the making of a new film of Jerome Robbins’ 1958 jazz ballet, “NY Export: Opus Jazz.” Two New York City Ballet dancers — Ellen Bar and Sean Suozzi — are the impetus behind the project. The filming is still currently underway and, in fact, is not very far along unfortunately. I was hoping they would have more clips to show other than that which I saw earlier at NYCity Ballet (which I blogged about here), but so far the duet I wrote about in that post is the only one that has been filmed. The (very young!) filmmakers — director Henry Joost, along with Jody Lee Lipes and Ariel Schulman, were there to discuss a bit of the logistics of filming that piece and the locations in which they’re thinking of shooting other parts: a tobacco warehouse under the Brooklyn Bridge, a hidden area in Staten Island under the Verrazano Bridge, and they’re looking for a low rooftop surrounded by high rises. Joost gamely asked the audience to let him know if they knew of such a place. Basically, they are seeking to film one of each of the five parts of the dance in each of the five burroughs, which I thought was sweet, and fitting since Robbins was a quintessential New Yorker who loved this city, and made his ballet in honor of it. I’ll be interested to see the finished product.

I do wonder how long it’s going to be, though, since the ballet itself is not as long as a full-length feature film, and whether it’s going to show in regular cinemas, art house theaters, the New York State Theater, PBS, go direct to DVD, etc. I really wish the Works & Process organizers would allow some time for an audience Q&A. They do have a cocktail social afterward, but it’s often difficult to track down the speakers, and Sunday night it was impossible since the lobby is currently being used for the filming of another movie (don’t know which, but I heard Clive Owen was spotted in the museum earlier that day) and so was unavailable to us.

Speaking of movies, “How She Move,” of which they showed a trailer during “Dance War” on Monday night, looks kind of good. Well, the dancing at least looks decent… It opens here tomorrow night.

And speaking of “Dance War” — really, I’m sorry this post is so all over the place! — I wasn’t tremendously impressed with Monday night’s first team dance-off. I liked Team Carrie Ann’s last performance the best, mainly because they did what I said I’d most prefer in my last post on the show: put the divas up front and center and have the men as backup dancers. The women can really sing (at least four of them can), and though I’m not sure I’m tremendously impressed with anyone’s dancing, at least the choreographers seem to be entrusting the men with somewhat more interesting moves than the women. I didn’t much care for Carrie Ann’s first team performance, though — the hip hop with all the posturing. I thought it was interesting at first, and very initially reminded me of Camille A. Brown’s “Groove to Nobody’s Business,” but it got old fast and went nowhere. I couldn’t much appreciate Bruno’s first piece, with all the pimpish sex kitten crap. He basically said he wants “sexy women and strong men,” so that is apparently where it’s at for him. And I honestly can’t remember his second piece…

Looks like we won’t be seeing what a jury of their peers decides after all. Always a bad idea to waive a jury trial, IMO, for anyone… Still, I’m going to be watching this case with great interest.

This post isn’t about dance, but one of my other deep interests: issues of criminal and social justice. There was a lot of talk here yesterday about the Appellate Court decision denying defense attorneys’ requests in the trial of Michael Oliver, Gescard Isnora, and Marc Cooper — police officers charged with the 2006 shooting death of African American man Sean Bell outside of a Queens strip club — to change the venue of the trial on grounds that publicity has made it impossible for the men to receive a fair trial in Queens. I think publicity about the case, though, is so widespread, it would be the same anywhere. I remember when I first heard about the shooting I was sitting in the reception area of a doctor’s office in North Carolina with my mom. The news came over the TV and the room became very quite; everyone just kind of regarded each other in silence. When I got back to my mom’s house, where I was spending Thanksgiving, I checked some of my favorite political blogs, like this one, based nowhere near New York, and which already had posts up about it. There’s been loads of publicity everywhere.

Many believe it was the re-location of the trial of officers who shot Amandou Diallo, from the Bronx to Albany, with a much whiter jury pool, that was responsible for the acquittal of those white detectives. Whether or not that’s true (and not all of the officers charged in the Bell shooting are white), Queens has one of the most ethnically diverse populations in the country, if not the world, being a burrough where many immigrants settle. That’s a lot of combined life experience. Juries in the outer borroughs are neither stupid nor careless; they rarely arrive at hasty verdicts, carefully examinining all evidence and taking time during deliberations, requesting numerous re-readings of charges and testimony. Often a verdict is mixed, with some charges on a single indictment resulting in acquittals, others determinations of guilt. You can tell the jury tried very hard to be fair and consider each charge separately.

I remember seeing an excellent Liz Garbus documentary called The Farm: Angola USA, about a high security prison in Louisiana. One inmate, a black man, was serving a 100-year sentence for raping two white women. The women both freely admitted they could not tell the difference between black people and couldn’t identify him as the rapist, but could state with assuredness that the rapist was black as was the man they identified in a lineup, the only one in handcuffs. There was no forensic evidence tying him to the crime (the film didn’t go into what evidence, if any, there was). The whole audience gasped; no one could believe he was convicted on that. I remember thinking, such a thing would never go down in Brooklyn, in Queens. That’s to say nothing about the various judges who preside over trials, but as for the juries of NYC, I believe in them.

(photos by Paul Kolnick, top: Amar Ramasar and Tiler Peck; bottom Maria Kowroski and Tyler Angle, in “Oltremare”)

Tonight (or, seeing as how it’s 2:00 a.m., last night rather) was the world premiere of a new ballet by Italian choreographer Mauro Bigonzetti at New York City Ballet. The dancers did a spectacular job with some very difficult-looking choreography. Anyway, first things first: my evening got off to a very excited start, as I sat next to Judith Jamison, legendary Alvin Ailey dancer and now artistic director of that company, my favorite (if it wasn’t clear from all of my December posts.) I know I may sound like a goof sometimes, but sitting beside a giant like her was just such a thrill. Of course I was too shy to say anything to her

So, Oltremare. The program notes state that the name of the ballet translates to “beyond the sea” and is intended to explore the feelings people have upon leaving their homeland for a new country: sadness, excitement, fear of the unknown. The ballet, very modern and without pointe shoes, began with several dancers, all dressed in early 20th Century clothing reminiscent of “Little House on the Prairie,” and all bearing large, burdensome suitcases. They entered the stage in a line, as if they’d just disembarked a boat. The music at this point was minimal and consisted only of a beating sound. They suddenly dropped the suitcases, collapsed on top of them, exhausted, and made kicking and pushing motions in each direction as if fighting the urge to return to the boat. But they picked themselves up and forged ahead.

(all headshots by Paul Kolnik; above Georgina Pazcoguin)

After their initial trek across stage, the dancers returned, without suitcases, and began performing a series of very dramatic duets full of mixed emotions. Georgina Pazcoguin completely blew me away. She danced with such passion and the intensity of her internal conflict was made clear with every facial expression and every detailed movement she made. She struggled savagely against her first partner, Jason Fowler, he scooping her up as she lashed out, fighting him, punching out at the air around her, then hurling herself at him in anger, forcing him to catch her in mid-air.

Another pas de deux between Tiler Peck and Amar Ramasar ensued, this one slightly more mild, conveying less anger but more sorrow, although many of the lifts and movements were very similar to those in the first duet.

(above, Andrew Veyette)

Some ensemble dancing and a series of solos followed. And it was here where Andrew Veyette, a new favorite of mine, completely blew me away. He had a crazy hard solo replete with insane leg-switching barrel turns, corkscrew jumps, and multiple fouette turns and pirouettes, and he pulled if off like it was absolutely nothing! So excellent for him! The movement was all very modern, very grounded with a lot of steps emphasizing heel over toe, and flexed hands and feet. He seemed a natural for this kind of vocabulary. (I also saw him dance parts of Jerome Robbins’s Opus Jazz at the Guggenheim on Sunday — which I’ll blog about soon — and thought the same thing; he is a modern mover). Amar Ramasar impressed me in this respect as well.

A few more pas de deux followed, including one between the amazing Georgina and Andrew. I don’t know if it was intentional, but this one looked more fraught with sexual tension. It actually reminded me of the novel “Middlesex,” where characters Lefty and Desdemona have just escaped the burning of Smyrna, their homeland, and caught the boat to New York. They are siblings but they are also in love and, horrified and upset as they are about having to flee their country, they use the anonymity of ship and then the New World to re-define themselves as husband and wife, to Desdemona’s never-ending shame.

In another duet, danced by Tyler Angle and Maria Kowroski, the man seemed grieved at the woman’s despondency. They had some very difficult lifts, where he, lying on the ground, had to hold her up, then roll over her and whip her up and over himself repeatedly. I wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be suicidal and he was trying to shake her out of it or what.

But regardless, my main problem was the choreography. The mood of all the pas de deux seemed too one-note, and, since the story begins and ends with the same duet — that between Georgina and Jason — the narrative as a whole didn’t really seem to progress. Each duet was either full of anger or sorrow or both; and the movement in all of them, except for the Angle / Kowroski, seemed very similar. The mood and choreography of the ensemble parts was varied, but didn’t always make sense to me. At one point, it appears that the dancers are having some kind of happy square-dance-like hoe-down. If this is meant to convey that they are coming to peace with their new home, then fine, but the movement at times was so overly fast and choppy it looked almost cartoonish. So, it seemed like a grotesque, distorted version of a western folk dance. At other points I saw echoes of West Side Story, with the male bravado and the female swooning. American but a bit anachronistic. The music was varied as well, with some parts more fluid, others more intentionally discordant, as if symbolizing difficulty, unrest perhaps, basically that something was just “off” in this new home.

These are my first impressions; I definitely want to see it again. The dancing was simply superb. As is usual for openings, the choreographer was there as was music composer Bruno Moretti, and they took bows with the dancers and signed autographs out on the (freezing) Plaza afterward. Premieres always make for a fun night! This program will repeat several times throughout the winter season; go here for the schedule.

First, my review of NYCBallet’s “Traditions” and “Balanchine’s World” programs is up on ExploreDance.com. I talked about the ballets in more depth than I did in my blog post; in particular, ballerina Maria Kowroski. Plus there are better pictures

Second, Maria (of A Time To Dance, not Maria Kowroski) has some interesting info on Rasta Thomas. Apparently, he is bringing his Bad Boys of Dance, which I wrote about when the just-formed company premiered at Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival over the summer, to DC. Also, Rasta has been named Artistic Director of a dance company there called Echo Park Contemporary Ballet. Lucky DCers!

For people in the New York area who happen to have tickets to the New York City Ballet matinee this Sunday, there will be an informal meet-up of dance bloggers, Winger readers, and dance fans on the promenade (that’s the main floor where the gift shop is) near the statue on the left side of the hall, during the second intermission. That’s right after Daniel Ulbricht will make his debut in Balanchine’s monumental “Prodigal Son.” Philip, who organized the get-together, and others, figured it would be an ideal meeting time since so many people are excited to see Daniel dance this role. It is a very big part for a young dancer Jerome Robbins, Baryshnikov, and other ballet greats of yore have all danced it… So, we’ll all be there to discuss Mr. Ulbricht’s performance right afterward. And I’m sure there will be tons of press people there as well… Poor Daniel; the pressure’s on! Hehe, just kidding; this is what dancers live for, I’m sure!

(photo by Andrew Eccles, from Alvin Ailey’s REVELATIONS)

Most of us have today off from work. As we return from ski trips or take advantage of holiday sales or just veg out, let’s just not forget why.

As I said in my last post, I’m in the midst of another crazy weekend running back and forth between New York City Ballet at Lincoln Center and the Manhattan Amateur Classic in midtown, so this will be kind of short. The last two programs I’ve seen at NYCB made clear to me why Balanchine’s considered such a genius. I’m going to write reviews for ExploreDance.com (which I will definitely link to when they’re up, and which I hope people will read ) so I’m not going to write all that much now, except to point out some highlights.

Highlight #1: seeing PRODIGAL SON performed live for the first time! (Photo above by Paul Kolnick). I’ve been dying to see it ever since reading Terry Teachout’s short Balanchine bio, ALL IN THE DANCES. This is a story ballet, mirroring the Biblical tale of the boy who leaves his family to find his way in the world, where he is seduced by a Siren and beaten and robbed by her cohorts, and left naked and to die, only to find his way painstakingly back home, where he is taken in again by his forgiving father (only thing missing from the dance is the obediant son). Damian Woetzel had the lead and he was excellent. He exuded perfect youthful angst, wonder and amazement at the Siren, and complete boyish helplessness as he falls under her spell, then perfect pathos as he crawls along the ground, beaten and having lost everything, trying to find his way back home. What I love about the ballet is that there really doesn’t need to be much “acting”; the story is all in the choreography, from the youth’s energetic, high, lashing-out kick/jumps, to the siren’s seductive leg raises and splitting lifts, to her cohorts’ grotesque crab-like, bent-kneed sideways walks. Woetzel, about to retire, is a dancer at the prime of his artistry; a much younger dancer, Daniel Ulbricht, is scheduled to debut in the role next weekend. He is thus far known for his bravura dancing (high jumps, big leaps, turns upon turns with no end in sight). No doubt he’ll excel in the beginning “angsty young man” parts, but it will be interesting to see whether he can move the audience the way Woetzel did as the story evolves.

The other highlight from Friday night was Andrew Veyette from the first piece on the program, Balanchine’s SQUARE DANCE. This is one of Balanchine’s many plotless ballets that well illustrates his ingenius skill at making uniquely American ballets by combining classical ballet steps with American social dance. Andrew had the principal male part. I hope this isn’t offensive, but I was actually taken with him because I found something about him sweetly relatable. He has a tall, thin body kind of like David Hallberg’s, and therefore perfect for ballet, and he is really a very good dancer. But I don’t think he knows it yet! I feel like he gets nervous and it shows on his face and his body; when he did a series of sharp staccato jumps at one point, it looked like he was lifting his body by his shoulders instead of his legs. He wasn’t; it only looked that way because nervousness leads to tension which leads to hunching your shoulders up rather than keeping them down and connected to your center. I know because this was one of my big nerve-induced problems… But at one point, in the middle of the ballet, he really let go and you could tell — he did these beautifully high jumps and he was really soft and fluid and at ease, and his face relaxed and his dancing just shined. I think it just took him a while to warm up, and then he got nervous again toward the end. It’s just funny because this is so me; always so tense … Anyway, I think he has the potential to be a really beautiful dancer and it’s just a matter of him relaxing and trusting himself

(image of Tarantella from NYCB website). Saturday highlights were the beautifully haunting La Sonnambula, and for sure Tarantella! The latter is a fast, fun, sexy, sassy little dance consisting mainly of back and forth “Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better”-style solos between male and female 19th Century peasant types that are each full of so much bravura dancing, it is almost a competition. It was danced by the beyond -compare Ashley Bouder, and Gonzalo Garcia, a recent transplant here from San Francisco Ballet. (Above image by the way, is of different dancers). Gonzalo is a really good dancer, but you don’t walk away from a competition with Ashley still standing! You just don’t! Anything anyone can do, she can do better She is fast becoming my favorite allegro ballerina, not just of NYCB but overall. Once she starts, she just never stops; I was getting dizzy watching her… She owns roles like that.

(headshots from NYCB website — Hubbe by Paul Kolnick; Whelan by David Michalek)

And other highlight was La Sonnambula, a story ballet about a poet who finds himself at a masked ball, the object of the grand mistress’s affections until he falls in love with a beautiful sleepwalker, danced by the wonderful Wendy Whelan. The hunky Nikolaj Hubbe danced the poet, and by ‘hunky’ I mean both good- and heavy-looking; because at the end, after he is killed through the jealous mistress’s orders, tiny Wendy picks him up and carries him away. Philip and Ariel think it looks near-impossible. But Wendy is a powerhouse and Nikolaj was holding himself very tightly, so I could see it being real; a man can definitely hold himself up enough for a woman to lift him, especially at waist level. Pasha actually made me do the same to him once, so he could show me how to hold myself. Of course I only lasted about 1/10 of a second before dropping him (but it was okay, because he was prepared the whole time to be dropped!), and with Wendy having about 200-300 times more muscle mass than I (while still managing to be thinner), she could definitely manage him.

Oh, Nikolaj is so good — he was so poetic yet human as he fell for the hauntingly beautiful, ghost-like sleepwalker, holding out his arms in front of her to trip her out of her slumber. Each time he lay his arm out on the floor, she would tiptoe, on pointe, right over it without looking down. So, was she really a woman who was simply sleep-walking or was she some ethereal being meant to save the poet’s soul and get him out of that stiflingly stupid ball??

Anyway, then Saturday night I went to the Manhattan Amateur Classic, the biggest amateur ballroom competition in the New York area. I’ve never followed the amateur comps (only the professional ones; and sometimes pro/ams having done those myself), so I’d never been to this one before. I loved it. As with all ballroom competitions, somehow I’m just transported into another world. Not to sound corny, but seriously, something about sitting there for six or seven hours watching all these dapper, handsome gentlemen dressed in tux ‘n tails whisking their glowing ladies in gorgeous ballgowns around the floor, interspersed with the fun, sensual rhythmic Latin dancing, just takes me away from my problems for a time. And since this one was held not in a hotel like most, but in an actual ballroom with a balcony, it reminded me of Blackpool. I almost wanted to cry at the end of the night when the final Standard trophy was given because it meant my week in England was coming to an end and I now had to return to my quaint little B&B for three hours of sleep and mad packing so I’d be ready to catch the early morning train to Manchester. But then no one sang “God Save The Queen,” and I happily told myself; it’s just a subway ride home… Everyone who’s into ballroom has to go to Blackpool at some point; it’s magic, it’s mandatory!

As I said, I don’t really follow the amateur comps, but here are some highlights:

A favorite Standard couple of mine (this is from the open Adult championships). They placed, I think, second. He looks a little like Jose Carreno

The Latin Youth division — meaning ages 16-19. Some real up and comers!

Some of my favorites from Latin Youth. The guy was very tall, which is usually problematic for Latin — you just can’t move as quickly as the smaller dancers. But this guy was amazing; he reminded me of Vaidotas Skimelis, the pro dancer who’s been making it to the finals in recent comps. He doesn’t let his size slow him too much, and really uses it to his advantage by playing up the hyper-masculine charm. Of course I guess the original large Latin uber mensch is Maks Chmerkovskiy… Anyway, this couple placed second, so go me for calling it

Another of the “tall couple.”

I retreated to the balcony; things were getting a bit too crowded (and melodramatic) down on the floor… These are the Youth Latin finals; the guy in the middle with his arm out — they were the winners, which I called as well. They were overall my favorites. There are some amazing dancers in the amateur division — especially in the Youth, since they’re likely gonna go on and become pros, but also in the adult (21-35) division too. People think amateur means bad, but in ballroom, it really doesn’t. At least not necessarily. Some amateurs have sponsors (like Freed shoes, Taka Dance costumer, etc.), so they don’t have day jobs, but rather dance full-time. Because of this, they’re sometimes even better than some of the pros, who do work (as ballroom teachers; the definition of a pro in the ballroom world is someone who gets paid to teach ballroom dance). So, you can see some really excellent dancing at these amateur comps.

Long shot of the Latin Youth finals. They have a board at the front of the ballroom floor for announcing heats, which I think is a great idea and one I haven’t seen used a whole lot at competitions.

Cuties from the under 16-Latin. This adorable couple made the finals.

Back to Adult Standard. The couple in green (lady in green that is) were very striking to me, though they didn’t make the finals. I remember the guy from my studio. He used to train in Latin, and he was a great Latin dancer. Now he’s apparently competing in Standard. It amazed me how well he was able to switch between the two because they’re extremely different, not just technique-wise, but personality-wise as well. Sexy, grounded, hip-swaying Latin guy into soft on his feet, floating-above-the-floor, dapper ballroom gent is not an easy transition to make. To be sure, his ballroom was a little Latiny, which is likely why they didn’t make the finals. He leads her pretty hard and fast, making their Tango absolutely electric, but some of the other dances, like their Quickstep was not light enough. Still, I think his Latin-ness brought a real charm and sexiness (in a smoldering kind of way) to his Standard dancing.

Okay, I have to run off to the Guggenheim, for another Works & Process event. Here is my album of the MAC; I think there are a couple pics I left out!

Magnolia Bakery line around the corner! Hopefully it’s just because it’s opening day and it won’t always be like this. I talked a bit to the owner and he seems really nice. He apologized to me about a million times because they kept forgetting my coffee Right now it’s just a take-out place (you actually grab a cardboard box from a shelf on your way in and pick out your own cupcake(s) from the various trays leading down the line to the cash register — whole thing resembles a high school cafeteria; not sure if the one in the Village is like this too because I never went into it). So, no tables for sitting down and chatting. He told me though that they’re in the process of renovating an adjacent room with plenty of such tables, although that room may sometimes be rented out for private parties. Anyway, Ariel and I had chocolate cupcakes. She liked hers (in fact, here is a picture of it); I found mine a slight bit bland, but that may be how some people like their dessert — without too much sugar. I’m a sweet-aholic so, for me, the more sugar, the better, especially when I’m being horrible and am basically eating a mini chocolate cake for breakfast anyway… Their coffee was absolutely delicious though. Well worth waiting for!

I then spent the entire day running back and forth (again) between New York City Ballet and a ballroom event — this one, the Manhattan Amateur Classic. Most excellent dance weekend — will post about both tomorrow!

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

T-Mobile

First Candace married Charles, then Baryshnikov graced the TV show with his majestic presence, and now yummy Magnolia Bakery, whose original West Village location was popularized by the same (Sex & the City, that is, not Misha ) is opening a new location just a few steps from Lincoln Center. Should make for an ideal after-ballet snacking ‘n chatting ground. Ariel and I, who were in the neighborhood, went to check it out today, since I’d heard it opened its doors yesterday, but unfortunately it’s only been available for private parties for the last two days. Tomorrow is its official public opening, 11 am sharp. Cupcakes for breakfast!

Ugh. Last night I had another reading at the Cornelia Street Cafe, as part of the Writers Room member reading series. (above photo is from a reading there last year; I felt like such crap last night I wouldn’t let any friends — including Ariel, who wrote about the evening here — take pictures). I almost didn’t give the reading because I was feeling depressed and sick (the two probably contributed to each other; having grown up in warm sunny Phoenix, I am just fundamentally not a cold-weather person and it seems like I often spend an entire winter down with something off and on). Anyway, another person had to back out last minute so I decided to be an adult and refrain from flaking out on something I’d committed to. Plus, Stan Richardson, playwright and curator of the series, is such an amazing person. He made me feel so much better and talked me out of my insecurities with his spectacular sense of humor. He really is a great person; thanks Stan

For the above reasons, it didn’t go as well as the first…. although I feel like that’s how life often is. Of all of my many court arguments over the years, my very first went by far the best — the presiding judge actually telling me it was well-crafted and well-articulated. Also, with my first reading, I just gave a brief intro to my novel then began reading; here, I was reading from another section further in, so I felt like I stood up there talking about what the manuscript was about and what came before the excerpt more than actually reading it. Anyway, it was brief and I survived.

The guy on after me though was really good. His name is Steve Reynolds, and he read from his memoir, portions of which will be published in Reader’s Digest, on surviving oral cancer. Oh — the theme of the night was “Doctors,” so all of ours dealt with medical conditions. Mine was about my main character’s having to go for a gruelling Barium Swallow exam after sensing a ball the size of a fist in her throat, and the playwright who followed us, Susan Haar’s consisted of two really good monologues from her newest play about a character who is sexually assaulted while in a coma. So, definitely an uplifting night in Cornelia Street Cafe!… Anyway, Reynolds is a great writer, who has attained enough ironic distance from his condition to write about it with both laugh-out-loud humor and sobering poignancy. He’s really able to make you feel what he’s feeling as he goes through the various stages.

At points, his excerpt even created a bit of commotion. A non-smoker, he was obviously befuddled at his diagnosis. He’s further dumbounded to learn (as are we!), that it’s actually caused by the human papilloma virus (HPV, the same one that causes cervical cancer in women), and whose chances you have of contacting rise the more sexual partners you have. According to stats, he tells us, once you have more than six partners, your chances of getting — either oral HPV or cancer; I’ve forgotten now because I was so blown away by the number — increase 420 percent with every new partner. This is over the course of a lifetime. Afterward, when Stan re-took the mike, he repeated, “420 percent??” “Yep,” Steve responded. Murmurs abounded and everyone’s face seemed to bear a rather horrified look of concentration. “I mean, if you’re a single woman in her 30s there’s no way you haven’t had more than that!” said a wildly gesticulating woman in the audience (okay, my friend! — but not poor Ariel — she looked mortified that people actually spoke about such things in public. I remember being new to New York once too, )

Anyway, afterward, I dragged my friends to Caffe Vivaldi around the corner, which is just kind of a nostalgic place for me, since I used to go there frequently when I first moved here. Unfortunately it doesn’t look much like I remember it: instead of being a quintessential cafe with every hot cozy drink and soothing fattening thing imaginable and loads of tables suitable for chatting by the fireplace, it’s now become a small dark music-hall, with the chairs and tables all shoved to one end to accommodate a huge piano and band area on the other. And of course once the band begins playing — they have two sets per night so they start early — conversation must end. And gone is their European staff who made the perfect panini and served good wine. Having said all that, I still rather enjoyed the first musician, a singer and pianist named Jess King. Her lovely, soulful voice and dark, melancholy tunes were perfect for my blue funk. She made me cry at one point and sometimes that’s just what you need — a good cry. Anyway, check her out here or here. And, to hear her in person, she plays there every other Tuesday night. I loved her.

For America’s Ballroom Challenge 2008! The show will air five Wednesdays in a row from January 30th through February 27th, 8-9 EST on PBS. This year there are two new hosts: replacing Marilu Henner and Tony Meredith are Jasmine Guy (remember her from The Cosby Show?) and many-times champ Ron Montez. If you’ve missed the past two years, each night of this show (filmed live at the Ohio Star Ball held in Columbus in November — probably the largest and most popular ballroom competition in the country) will consist of a different ballroom style danced at the American comps: American Smooth, American Rhythm, International Standard, and International Latin (woo hoo), and the final night will be a “best of the best” competition among the four winners of each style, dancing two unique solos.

To me, highlights this year will be Katusha Demidova in Standard dancing with her new partner, Arunas Bizokas, as well as the newly-crowned U.S. National champs in Smooth (the smashing JT Thomas & Tomasz Mielnicki) and Rhythm (Jose DeCamps & Joanna Zacharewicz; this category is always a huge show-down though thanks to DeCamps & Zacharewicz, and the wild and spectacular Emmanuel Pierre-Antoine & Julia Gortchakova). Unfortunately, we’re not going to get a shot of my favorite Yulia Zagoruychenko in Latin, since she was, at the time of that competition, just beginning a new partnership. Still, watch Latin for longtime champs Andrei Gavriline & Elena Kruychkova and two couples who are solidly on the way up: Delyan Terziev & Boriana Deltcheva, and new favorites of mine: Vaidotas Skimelis & Jurga Pupelyte. I’ll post again closer to January 30th in reminder, but for now, go here for deets. (It doesn’t look the PBS channel is updated yet for this year’s show, but once it is, it should be here).

Okay, everyone who said “Dance War” would get better was right. I think the show is generally more focused on the singing — both from the judges’ and camera operators’ perspectives — which disappoints me, but I’ll still watch it. This week I noticed that many times the camera would focus on the person singing — especially with the girls — excluding the people in the background who, in some cases were doing some of the more difficult dance moves. Just when someone (I think it was Kelsey) went to do a grand battement, the camera right then left her and homed in on the girl singing, so you missed the full extent of the kick. Movement definitely took a back seat. Anyway, that’s probably why I thought everyone was such crap at dance last week.

I thought the guys were overall the better dancers — although I’m still seeing a lot of floor gymnastics; but the choreography they were given was generally faster, more varied, and slightly more challenging than that of the girls, who basically just did sexy stylized walks and a few stationary pelvic rolls (and, happily, at one point, a set of double pirouettes) while belting out lyrics. The three-woman “Lady Marmalade” completely blew me away, and I have to say, that was the first time in the whole show that I think I actually understood what Bruno was saying. I definitely get when he’s excited or let down, but on this show I can’t always make out the English, which is weird since I don’t think I’ve had that problem on DWTS. I think Mariel, the girl Carrie Ann first picked, is going to be the main diva of the show, followed by Allysa, whom I was really surprised to see be one of the last two chosen. I can’t tell with the guys yet who’s going to stand out, but I foresee basically a battle of female voices backed by sexy male dancing peppered with acrobatic theatrics. We shall see…

My review of Andrew. J. Nemr and Cats Paying Dues tap ensemble is now up on ExploreDance.com. Enjoy (above photo by Aaron Epstein).

First, I just copied this from the Winger website. I’m sure Kristin won’t mind (By the way, in the top pic on the post that I just linked to, Danny Tidwell (trying to be incognito in hat) and the girl who I think is Jamie from SYTYCD are in the forefront.) This picture (that I copied here) is the Cedar Lake Ballet pre-party blogger get-together I have been going on about for some time now. From left to right: Counter Critic Ryan Kelly, Ariel, Philip / Oberon, goofus me, David!!!!! (who doesn’t look that terrified at all to be standing next to me, right?!), Taylor Gordon, Evan, Doug Fox, and of course, the mother of all dance bloggers, Kristin Sloan

Second, last night was another Works & Process event at the Guggenheim. This one was in celebration of Frederic Franklin, a delightfully sweet 93-year-old man who’s enjoyed a wonderously long career in dance. He started out in a tap dance ensemble in Paris in 1931, performing with the likes of Josephine Baker, was quickly snatched up by the Markova-Dolin Ballet in England, and eventually ended up with the famous Ballet Russes. After retiring from dancing, he joined ABT both performing non-dance roles in the big story ballets and helping to re-stage classics. In between an interview with Mr. Franklin by moderator Wes Chapman, they showed film clips of him dancing and speaking about his life (which I figured out afterward, while talking with Barbara, a reader of this blog and the Winger, were likely culled from the great documentary Les Ballet Russes), and excerpts of ballets that Mr. Franklin has staged. Two excerpts were from Coppelia, one performed by very good young dancers from ABT II (ABT’s studio company), the other by students at the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School (ABT’s ballet school). The program only listed the students’ names in alphabetical order, but I was blown away by the ballerina who performed the lead in that excerpt. I can’t give her proper credit because I don’t know which name belongs to her; but Barbara and I agreed that she was brilliant.

And two of the other excerpts — a pas de deux from Leonide Massine’s “Gaite Parisienne” and one from Balanchine’s “Mozartiana” — were performed by ABT principals Julie Kent and Mr. Beautiful (center, in pic above, as well). Julie, as always, was lovely and she really is such a beautiful ballerina, so light and feathery, she just floats around the floor. But Marcelo is the consummate partner for her. Marcelo is the consummate partner period. Oh, I haven’t seen Marcelo in months now and I miss him … But David just steals every smidgeon of attention whenever he is onstage, wherever he is actually — passing by a damn window… On a stage, he becomes the stage. And it’s not in any way his fault; he doesn’t try to do it at all. He really tries very very hard to highlight the ballerina; he showers all of his attention onto her, whether he’s partnering her or standing off to the side simply watching her, as he did last night in “Mozartiana.” How do I know this? Because the entire time Julie was dancing, I was looking at him. I’m too tired to try to look it up right now, but I just read an article where the writer was saying that Baryshnikov was a great dancer and brought new steps into to the canon and all, but that’s not even the half of what he meant for Ballet; he could stand completely still on a stage and you couldn’t stop looking at him. That’s exactly how I feel about David. It goes without saying he’s a sublime dancer, but that’s not even the half of it; not even ten percent.

In “Mozartiana” Julie and David wore workout clothes — typical for Works & Process, but in the “Gaite Parisienne” pdd, oh my oh my, costumes! Gorgeous, fascinating, jaw-droppingly breathtaking Christian Lacroix costumes. Normally, I’m not that into designer clothes, but Lacroix is on a whole different level; the man is so clearly an artist to me. If only more ballet companies would hire him to re-design all the classics… David’s costume consisted of this bright celebration-red velvet tux, gorgeously loud varicolored striped tights, and black shoes. Julie’s was less colorful — simple beige and black — but stylistically stunning in a sweetly sexy little girl / china doll kind of way, suiting Julie to a tee. And the choreography — I haven’t even checked to see if ABT is doing this during their spring season (a quick internet search reveals they last put it on all the way back in 1988?), but it was the most sweetly sexy waltz-ballet I have ever seen. I really want to see the whole.

Anyway, it was a fun people-watching night. Sir Alastair was there wearing this very interesting red Mexican-y pancho-esque jacket and a gold scarf tossed spiffily around his neck. I saw him talking to Wendy Perron, EIC of Dance Magazine, at one point. And it was nice seeing Barbara again at the cocktail thingy afterward Always a fun night at the Guggenheim. The only negative, the museum was apparently remodeling or something and they had half the lobby roped off; very hard to negotiate the large crowd without spilling your wine!

(all photos courtesy of Yi-Chun Wu).

I was only recently introduced to Parsons Dance a few months ago, through the Maria de Buenos Aires tango operita that Philip had invited me to. So, their Joyce season, currently underway, gave me the perfect opportunity really to see what choreographer David Parsons is all about, since, in celebration of his company’s 20-year anniversary, it presented basically a compilation of his greatest hits.

Overall, I liked them well enough to want to see them again, but not enough to fall head over heels in love the way I did with, say, Alvin Ailey. There are two programs, consisting of six dances apiece, with only “Caught,” which seems to be Mr. Parsons’s masterpiece, repeating in both. So, I’ll start with that one. This is a short piece which I described in my earlier post. On first viewing, as I said, I could understand why the audience went completely beserk with mad applause over it, but I found it a bit gimmicky. On second viewing, those feelings solidified. On my second night, I also realized that, when the sole dancer, again the wonderful Miguel Quinones, began doing the grand jetes around the stage’s perimeter and the strobe lights started flickering, it was only at the beginning of the leaps that he was actual jumping; soon he was pulled up by a cord emanating from the ceiling and merely carried around stage like a masculine Tinkerbell while the lights flashed. So, it’s not that he appears to be flying because he’s such a great jumper and perfectly coordinates his leaps with the lighting engineer; rather, he appears to be flying because the whole set-up is a trick. I guess I can still see why people think it’s cool, but I think it’s kind of cheating. Also, I’d originally thought, wow, Quinones (or whoever dances the role) must really have focus in order to be able to do those huge leaps with those insanely distracting lights. But now that I know he’s not really doing the work I thought he was, it’s less amazing.

Anyway, moving on. I liked Program A much better than Program B. Going in order, my first favorite was “Sleep Study.” This is a cutely humorous piece in which the dancers, dressed in pajamas, feign being on the verge of falling asleep, but tired as they are, only one man can actually do so. The others roll over each other and sit atop each other in playfully amusing ways. At one point a woman sits on top of a lying man, her back and his head to the audience, and as he bops up and down to the music, they create a funny, shape-shifting Pilobolus-like sleepless creature. It was highly relatable — who hasn’t had a night where they just couldn’t get to sleep no matter how tired they were? — and many of the moves and shapes created by the dancers were simultaneously simple and original.

I also liked “Nascimento,” which is not so shocking for me since it’s choreographed to music by Brazilian composer Milton Nascimento. Actually, Parsons used this composer in two works, this one and “Nascimento Novo,” a later-choreographed piece on Program B, and the first, “Nascimento,” — a sunny, happy celebration of Samba and other Brazilian rhythms that was nevertheless rooted in balletic partnering and movement — was my favorite. For one thing, the costumes in the first (by Santo Loquasto, who is fast becoming my favorite costume designer) composed of cheery reds and oranges and yellows well complemented the lighthearted theme, and the flowing sundresses for the women accentuated the quick, lively turns and lifts. In the second, “Nascimento Novo,” whose music I found to be lovely but choreography less original and more bland, the costumes (whose designer isn’t named in the program) were boring white tops and gray bottoms that didn’t move well (pictured below).

I also liked “Kind of Blue,” a bluesy ensemble piece set to Miles Davis’s “So What,” and “In the End,” a carefree ensemble work set to music from the Dave Matthews Band, whose choreography was a combination of jazz and contemporary ballet. Finally, I liked “Bachiana” from Program B, a sprightly, energetic, baroque dance set to Bach’s “Orchestral Suites” that reminded me of Mark Morris or Paul Taylor. The choreography was fast and creative, and the dancers really shined performing the intricate-patterned, fast-paced footwork. “Union,” pictured up top, was the antithesis, a long, balletic, adagio dance for the whole group consisting of some beautiful lifts, but I felt this one lacked structure and didn’t seem to go anywhere special. “Brothers,” pictured in the middle, was, as the name implies, a short dance for two men, examining the nature — at times competitive and argumentative, at times loving — of brotherhood. It had its moments and some of the choreography was original, but it just didn’t really blow me away. “Shining Star,” an upbeat disco-y piece set to Earth, Wind & Fire closed Program B. I think my problem with this dance, perhaps unfairly, stemmed from the fact that in recent seasons I’ve seen something very similar from Alvin Ailey that I felt was far more sophisticated. It’s obviously unfair to compare a production by a monied, behemoth company with resources galore to something by a much smaller one, but it wasn’t really the sets and costumes and greater number of dancers that set things so apart; it was more, I felt, that Ailey’s choreography was more varied. By the end of my second night at Parsons, I felt that if I saw the lift where a woman stands on a man’s bent leg and reaches out away from him, I was really going to lose it.

Dancers who stood out to me were the aforementioned Miguel Quinones (whom Parsons, rightly, used a lot), Patty Foster (who, with her endless energy, lovely lines, commitment to doing everything full-out, and charisma – and oh yeah, her small size reminded me of Lauren Grant from Mark Morris); Malvina Sardou; and Kevin Ferguson (the latter two of whom just stood out to me for some reason I can’t entirely put my finger on).

Despite my rather lukewarm review, this is a company worth seeing once or twice and Mr. Parsons has a very loyal following. And, from that following, here’s another perspective.

Okay, off to see David at the Guggenheim!!!

Update: After having an email exchange with a friend over “Caught” I am now not completely sure whether the dancer was suspended by a wire. The reason I thought he was was that I was sitting close to the stage and, as Quinones ran off into the wings following the end of the piece, I thought I saw a large black pocket on the back of his pants, right below his waist, perfect for housing a wire, which I figured he must have somehow dismembered before exiting. Also, sitting so close to the stage, I thought I could see, albeit at whip-lightening speed, the spaces between the flashing lights when he never came down to the floor. It could have been an optical illusion though. But why then the black thing smack on his butt? My friend swears he’s seen the piece numerous times in ceiling-less settings where there would be no way to connect a wire. Funny, because after seeing it the second time I thought it was common knowledge that he was suspended and I was a dork for not getting it the first time, but now I’m confused. Has anyone else seen this dance???

Last night Alyssa and I went to a tap dance performance at the Julia Miles Theater in west midtown. I’m writing a formal review of it for Explore Dance, which I will link to when it’s up, but, since the show’s only on for two more days, I just want to say now, I loved it. Andrew Nemr trained with Gregory Hines, and it shows in his expressiveness and style. “Cats Paying Dues” is a very young troupe of up-and-comers (my favorite was 17-year-old Orlando Hernandez — wow!), and the performance was charmingly low-key, no frills, no fluff, no pretentiousness (praise the lord), just very good, immensely musical dancing, and excellent jazz band. If you’re in NY, for $39, I think it’s a great value. Go to telecharge (or 212-239-6200) for tix.

I saw a new friend there (a very nice guy whom I met from Apollinaire), Brian Seibert, who writes for the New Yorker — only famous people like Goddess Joan have bylines there, but Brian is a very good writer; here is his brief but well-written piece on Nemr and CPD (you have to scroll down a bit).

Afterward, Alyssa introduced me to this new(ish — it opened last May) lovely little wine and cheese bar around the corner, called Casellula. (They also have a blog, “Spread the Curd”.) Their wine list is amazing and delightfully inexpensive (compared to other nice wine bars), and they have an absolutely enormous list of cheeses, many locally produced, and a fromager to help with your selection. We shared the most scrumptious — and original — duck confit salad I’ve ever had — the finely shredded combo of meat, celeriac, gruyere cheese and apple gave it this deceptively simple “hash”-looking quality — and it was topped with dulcet pomegranite seeds, and baked duck-skin croutons to die for – and I mean die for! Alyssa and I were wondering where we could get more and how unhealthy it would be to eat a whole plate?… Shared desserts were flourless chocolate cake textured with finely ground chocolate chunks and soaked in a light cream that effectively countered the cake’s richness, and coconut crepes oozing with lemon filling and topped with a mound of fluffy, coconut-textured whipped cream. Serendipitously, pastry chef Allen Stafford, who’s in the picture with us, is a former stage designer with the Atlanta Ballet and a big Paul Taylor fan. Funny because when we first walked in, I could have sworn I recognized him; still not completely sure from where but likely some Paul Taylor or other dance performance. He also made the artwork in back of us. It looks like a painting from afar, but when you approach, you realize it’s made all of aluminum wine bottle closures. Very cool! The restaurant is just around the corner from the Alvin Ailey studios as well, so if I can ever get my lazy butt back in gear and start up with classes again, will make the perfect after-workout lounge.

On way to “cats paying dues” tap show

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

Stopping by alvin ailey studios to watch african class!

Here are some pictures from the performance on Wednesday at Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet that I wrote about in my previous post.

From “Symptoms of Development,” the work about technology stifling human connection. This piece was Evan’s favorite and she has a nice write-up on it. The dancer in front is the striking Jason Kittelberger.

Another shot of “Symptoms.”

Above is the ‘running in place’ duet that I mentioned earlier I found arresting, from the second ballet, “Ten Duets on a Theme of Rescue.”

Another from “Ten Duets.”

Above and below from “Rite,” my overall favorite piece of the night.

Again, thank you so much to Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet, and to intern Caleb Custer in particular, for organizing this most innovative event!

Fun fun night! Big understatement! I didn’t even need to get drunk

Please excuse the Gawkerish, 15-year-old voice of this post. I waited until this morning to blog in hopes that the euphoria would dissipate and Kristin Sloan might post the group photo her boyfriend, Doug Jaeger, took, but as of yet neither has happened.

I must begin by calling myself a big fat hypocrit. I’ve laughed and rolled my eyes at Philip whenever he’s nearly fainted in front of the New York City Ballet stage door upon receiving a smile and hello from Jock Soto or Albert Evans or Wendy Whelan. Last night Danny Tidwell smiled and said hi to me and I promptly choked on my wine. Of course he doesn’t know me; I was just standing there staring gape-mouthed at him when he walked by with … oh crap I’m so bad, I think it was Jamie??… He was there with a girl from SYTYCD, but I’m not exactly sure who. Since the pre-show party was for bloggers, I was half-expecting his boyfriend to come (whom I was very much hoping to meet!) but Benaym was a no-show. I didn’t expect Danny though!!! Oh he’s so cute, and his smile is so warm and charming and sweet, it really just melted me. I can easily see why he is such a star. I got there earlier than everyone else and was nearly alone inside when the earth-shattering hello happened; each time one of my friends walked in, they greeted me only to get in return, “Omigod, omigod, Danny Tidwell said hi to me, Danny Tidwell said hi to me!!!” He’s so much smaller than he looks on TV or onstage. I couldn’t believe it. He’s always appeared to me the size of Carlos Acosta, but he’s well under six feet. It’s just the proverbial larger than life stage and screen presence I guess… And I’m very very very sorry for any SYTYCD fan who’s reading, but I just couldn’t bring myself to snap pics of him. In New York there’s an ironclad rule against “starf***ing.” Everyone does it, but everyone pretends they don’t and to break the pretense is practically illegal, a violation of the NYC social contract. Taylor and Evan and Ariel all agreed with me that I would definitely be immediately kicked out and may even be executed if I so much as tried surreptitiously to get a cell phone pic. So sorry!!! But Mr. Jaeger had a humongoid camera and was shooting up the place, so I’ll keep checking his site and see if he got any.

When Caleb Custer from Cedar Lake sent out the email announcing the blogger party, I had no idea who all was going to show. I was still swooning over Danny when who should breeze up his hair billowing in the wind but the beautiful one himself! When I spotted him pass by the large garage window (Cedar Lake’s studio is actually housed in a big garage, according to Philip, once used by photographer Annie Liebowitz), I couldn’t help myself. I screamed uncontrollably, “Look, there’s David Hallberg!” Doug (Fox), Philip, Ariel and probably about 75 other people in the lobby followed my point. David looked in at us, horrified. He promptly pretended to get a call on his cell phone and spent the next 20 minutes outside pacing up and down the street affecting a phone conversation, every so often peeking in the window to see if all the commotion at his arrival had died down. Meanwhile Danny remained huddled in a back corner with Jamie. Dancers are weird the way they sometimes crave and are other times embarrassed by attention.

Finally David braved the storm and ventured in. He is soft-friggin-spoken to make a massive understatement! He extended his hand to me and said something I couldn’t hear, I said simply, “hi, I’m Tonya,” feeling like a total ass, and he again said something I couldn’t make out. Soft-spoken or not, he clearly either had no idea who I was or was terrified of me. Ariel thinks it’s the latter, because of things like this and this. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the former though; he and Marcelo have got to be two of the only dancers on the face of the earth who never Google themselves. Anyway, the awkwardness was soon quelled by his sighting of Philip, who is apparently a friend of his through Craig Salstein. Philip was standing beside me. David doesn’t need to act at all; his natural reactions to things are so sweetly touching. You could see his recognition of Philip visibly register as his face brightened and he went bouncing toward Philip like a dog when it sees a regular playmate, practically rubbing his pelvis up against him when embracing. He then saw Ariel, standing beside Philip, whom he met when he was guesting once in Mobile, Alabama, and hugged her as well. I was feeling like the consummate dog crap, being the only one who didn’t receive a hug. But I guess that’s what I get for posting naked pictures and yelling at him for not blogging often enough on the Winger

Another highlight for me was meeting CounterCritic, whose original blog (critiquing the critics) I love. He’s such a fantastic writer whether he’s wickedly taunting critics or writing performance reviews himself, which are always spot-on (almost always anyway!) And he’s the only dance blogger who’s on Alex Ross’s blogroll. Oh jealously uncontained… Anyway, he’s so nice in person; all that blog pissiness is a total cover! I can’t really rib David for his puppyish behavior toward Philip because I followed CC around all night like a little dog, sitting next to him even during the show.

Speaking of which, could I talk a bit about the actual performance? Artistic director Benoit-Swan Pouffer, who by the way is really good-looking and personable and used to dance with my beloved Alvin Ailey, held a little Q&A with the bloggers afterward. He said he loves blogs: existing in a sphere so apart from traditional media, they bring something fresh and original to the dance world; they bring balance and new voices, and, though you never know what take you’re going to get from each one, it’s always interesting to see… I’m sure he never thought he’d be getting a blog post all about the pre-show hysteria of meeting Danny Tidwell and David Hallberg.

I want to look more at the (extensive!) press materials and the DVD they included (always an immense plus from dance companies), but for now I want to say how much I love dancer Jon Bond. Everything he does is so full-out, his lines are so sharp and even intense if that makes sense. Just little things like flexing a hand or foot, when he does it, it’s so pronounced that it looks all the more edgy in its awkwardness.

We saw three ballets: “Symptoms of Development,” by choreographer Jacopo Godani, a harsh, unsettling piece which dealt with technology and how it works against human interaction (Evan remarked to me afterward that it was an interesting inclusion in the rep they showed us, since we’re bloggers); “Ten Duets on a Theme of Rescue,” by Crystal Pite, my favorite duet being one in which Bond struggled to reach the female dancer in front of him, palm open and fingers extended to the max, running in place to catch up with her, but in vain, as she, running in place as well, was always too far ahead; and “Rite” by Stijn Celis, another take on a dance to Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring,” nearly all of which — of the ones I’ve seen anyway — evoke in different ways the chaos bordering on horror of the rite of passage of boys and girls into men and women. If you’re interested, here’s a YouTube clip of Pina Bausch’s take on the theme, and here’s Maurice Bejart’s, which I’m partial to. Celis’s “Rite” was different in that all characters were androgynous, so there was no real distinction between male and female. All dancers — about four men and four women — were dressed in Asian-looking strapless mini-dresses and wore heavy, almost operatic facial makeup. It actually reminded me of Nacho Duato’s Castrati, which I wrote about here, except both sexes were included, though not both genders (that I saw anyway; others may have different interpretations). The dancers darted, leaped over, and ran atop these three long log-looking sets, covered with green material and meant, I think, to evoke a primitive landscape. The dancers almost looked like nymphs as they interacted: regarding each other quizzically, examining the powder and sweat left on the ‘log landscape’ by each other in a somewhat grotesquely sexual way; performing dangerous run-and-jump catches with each other; it was kind of “Afternoon of a Faun“ish (original Nijinsky version) as well. All pieces were abstract, and all unsettling, but I think this was my favorite because it seemed to have the most going on that I could latch onto and make something of, and, because of the other “Rite’s” I’d seen, I had something to compare it to.

This is a new company, only four years old, and this is the third time I’ve seen them. They tend to take on edgy, visually striking and thought-provoking work and their dancers are very unafraid and do everything full force. For more info on their season, go here. Thank you so much to Cedar Lake for organizing this most fun, and thus far original, event. I’ll post pictures taken by the pro photographers if Caleb sends any my way…

For now, here’s a picture of Ariel taken in The Half King around the corner, where we afterward went to discuss the performance. Okay, where we went to discuss David and Danny

Ugh. Last night my agent sent me another editor’s rejection on my novel. They’re all saying the same thing: ‘I liked it but didn’t love it enough to take it on.’ The vast majority of novels I’ve read I’ve liked but didn’t love — some I didn’t even like at all — but definitely most fall into that first category. The last ‘rejector’ said she thought I was intelligent and at points the book was laugh out loud funny, but she just didn’t fall enough in love. Last night’s said she liked the plot very much but wasn’t “head-over-heels immersed” enough to fight for Sophie “in-house and out in the world.” It sounds like Sophie’s going off to war or something! I guess it is kind of a war to get the average person to pick up a book, particularly if that book is fiction. Which then makes it a war to get the publishing house to invest money into producing it.

Ugh. I guess I’ve spent enough time away from it that I should re-look and make some changes. Or maybe I should just resign myself to the fact that a good many writers never get their first novels published and throw myself into the second… It’s just so daunting because I really think a novel has to be, if not the hardest piece of art to make, then at least the one that takes the longest.

In any event, Cedar Lake Ballet is holding a shindig for dance bloggers tonight and I’ve already told a friend he’s going to have to take notes on the ballet for me because I intend to get thoroughly plastered at the pre-show cocktail party!

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!!! Okay, I can breathe again. Haven’t been able to do so for a few days now…

Sitting in the gay man section …

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

Should be fun!

Update: Actually the whole theater turned out to be the gay section Mr. Parsons is very popular amongst a certain population… Hehe, I can see why; it was a lot of fun and he’s got some very good dancers in his troupe. His piece “Caught” appears to be his claim to fame. In it, a man frantically runs toward various lights shining down from above and dances underneath their heat. But then the lights leave him and focus on another part of the stage. At one point, strobe lights just begin flashing all over the stage, completely overtaking him, and he can’t escape. He dances, doing some amazing moves — continuous grand jetes, high twisty jumps — as the lights continue to flash on him. It’s an amazing visual effect — he looks like he’s literally flying, never coming down to the ground — and he must be very focused to be able to dance in all that chaos. I’ve seen things not unlike this before, but the audience was going completely nuts with applause. The guy next to me said to his boyfriend, “it’s worth the price of admission for that alone!”

Parsons also does some interesting things with the body, the male body in particular. His main muse appears to be male dancer Miguel Quinones, judging from the first program. At one point Quinones does these really jazzy barrel turns, where he kind of shakes and shimmies his whole body on each rotation. He doesn’t always gain as much height as a classical ballet dancer, but it’s incredible that he can move so in the midst of the turn. (I was sitting next to a critic — I think the guy from the New Jersey Ledger. His pen started going the same time mine did at those amazing turns ) At another point, Quinones did a lovely arabesque, but instead of remaining still, he did these body rolls, starting from his hips and undulating up through his waist, torso, chest, shoulders, then out to the fingers of the outstretched arm — all the while steadily balancing on one leg, the other beautifully lifted behind.

Anyway, I’m going to Program B as well, and I’ll do a write up after! They’re at the Joyce Theater in Chelsea through Jan. 20th.

Okay, gotta go glue myself to the TV — Oh my gosh, Hillary won, Hillary won, HILLARY WON!!!

I saw a documentary last night at New York City Ballet’s State Theater that I really really loved. AND it’s going to air on PBS on April 8th, so everyone can see it! Don’t worry, I will definitely be reminding you all closer to April It’s called WATER FLOWING TOGETHER and is about the life of recently retired and widely beloved New York City Ballet dancer Jock Soto (pictured above after the showing speaking with photographer / filmmaker Gwendolen Cates — whom I’m told is related to Phoebe, though I don’t know if it’s true — and a moderator whose name I didn’t get).

(image from here)

There was some real hype over this, and I’m always ready to pounce in such instances, but in this case the hype was deserved. Although the film gets off to a slow start, it quickly gains momentum. I think what makes it so engaging is Soto’s interesting background and wonderful personality. He’s part Navajo, part Puerto Rican, and he grew up on a reservation in New Mexico, before moving to Phoenix (!) for ballet school. The film’s title is the name of his mother’s clan. There’s some great footage of the West, and my favorite parts of the film are (in addition to clips of his rehearsing Christopher Wheeldon’s tear-jerking duet “After the Rain” with the equally engaging Wendy Whelan, who is interviewed as well) those about his Native-American roots. (This could be partly because I have a Native American great-grandmother — Blackfoot to be exact — though I know next to nothing about her since, sadly, she’s been all but erased from my family history). Anyway, Jock’s mother was an artist and used to make Katchina dolls (how I miss Arizona…) and ceramic bowls, and he and his brother used to make and sell Indian Fry Bread (how I SO miss Arizona…) when they were kids. After he retired from NYCB in 2005 he went to culinary school and he and his partner, professional chef Luis Fuentes, have just begun a catering business, so I guess those foodie roots were always there!

Another thing that struck me: Jock’s homosexuality has always been accepted by his mother’s side of the family. American Indian culture, she says, holds homosexuals in high esteem because of their difference. (His paternal Latin side: not so accepting; aunts and grandmas keep asking when he’s gonna get married and, because his father hasn’t said anything, he feels uncomfortable revealing his sexuality to them). But interestingly, Indian society is also matriarchal. So, where women are valued, so are gay men.

(photo by Paul Kolnick)

And, like his longtime partner Wendy Whelan, Jock has such a sweetly endearing personality and a great sense of humor. He laughs easily at himself. Upon entering his apartment (which he openly tells you is a typical NYC dancer shoebox that he nevertheless pays $1,850 for) there’s a sign that reads, “No liquor served to Indians after 6:00 p.m.” Later, while preparing for a performance, he says, “as I put on my makeup and my costume and do my hair, I think, what a strange occupation for a 40-year-old man,” and at another point, trying hard to conceal his fear of and heartache about permanently leaving the stage says, “well, June 19, 2005 will be the last time I’ll ever have to dress in drag.” At one point, he actually lets loose and cries over his eternally pained body and his pending retirement. The scene makes him human and vulnerable and it really drives home that it must be so awful for a dancer to have to leave what he’s lived his entire life for at such a young age.

Anyway, it’s an excellent film and I left out a lot: his meeting and befriending Andy Warhol (I wish Cates had actually gone into a bit more detail on this); his ruminations on his coming to NY at only age 14, living without his family and dropping out of school in the 7th grade; and a lot of amazing dancing, including some great footage of him flying all over stage with his young little sprightly teenage body! Please do watch it on PBS in April, though they have to chop a good twenty minutes off for TV, which seriously frightens me since PBS seems to have a knack for making everything they show as bland as possible. If they cut any of the parts I just mentioned, there will be hell to pay!

It already seems this film is a slightly different version than that others have seen. In her lengthy review, Tobi Tobias mentions several classroom scenes where he’s teaching students at the School of American Ballet (from which aspiring NYCB dancers must graduate), which seemed to be missing from last night’s version. And smartly so, I think: “Classical ballet being the last bastion of chivalry in our disheveled era, Soto works continually to encourage a worshipful attitude in the gentlemen toward their ladies.” Considered the quintessential “manly” dancer though he may be, something about that line kind of makes me want to vomit.

Sometimes it can start to feel a bit stiflingly cliquish inside the State Theater if I’m there for too long, but I had a nice time hanging out before and after with Philip and Ariel, whose reports are here and here.