Photo by Bill Cooper of the mesmerizing Drew Jacoby and Rubinald Pronk in Lightfoot Leon’s spellbinding Softly as I Leave You, which is on both Morphoses programs (currently at City Center) and which I’ve been going on about in my last post, here, and earlier here.

And look — finally an American critic has something good to say about it!!

Says Lisa Jo Sagolla of Backstage magazine, “Lightfoot Leon’s Softly as I Leave You, a stunningly inventive duet involving a frightening coffinlike wooden box, is so fiercely emotional that its impact is universally chilling.”

I couldn’t find any YouTube clips of Jacoby and Pronk in Softly but, if you’re unfamiliar with them, here are a couple of others I found: the first a sexy little music video and the second is of them rehearsing with Mia Michaels.

Review coming soon of Program B, which includes Christopher Wheeldon’s new Rhapsody Fantaisie, which I liked.

Performance photos coming soon; in the meantime please enjoy another BRILLIANT photo by Kyle Froman.

Christopher Wheeldon’s Morphoses opened its NY season last night at City Center and I felt it was the best program they’ve done in their three years of existence. (At least Program A was; tonight I’ll see Program B). It’s a varied program with work by four different choreographers: Wheeldon himself; Bolshoi A.D.-turned ABT resident choreographer Alexei Ratmansky, whom all the critics downright worship; Australian Tim Harbour; and the Dutch husband and wife team Lightfoot Leon.

I must talk first about the third piece on the program, that by Lightfoot Leon, Softly As I Leave You. This is one of the most riveting pas de deux I’ve ever seen and it’s performed by the absolutely mesmerizing Drew Jacoby and Rubinald Pronk. Every single person who is not a professional critic was absolutely spellbound by it, could not stop talking about it. This happened at both the Fall For Dance Festival, where the work premiered (which I wrote about here), and last night. It’s simply about a couple, one partner’s decision to leave the other, and it’s a harrowing decision. After the lights went out on the final poignant image, the elderly woman on my left, whom I didn’t know, grabbed me and said, “Oh my God, that was so good!” And from my friend, who thinks the Arvo Part music used (Spiegel im Spiegel) is completely over-used and was expecting not to like it for that reason: “Oh my God, that music actually worked here!” she exclaimed, open-mouthed. She agreed it was one of the best duets she’d ever seen. And people were going on and on about it during intermission, both here and at FFD.

So why in the world do the critics hate it so much??? They ALL do. ALL OF THEM. It’s like in order to be a professional critic there are certain things you’re required to hate and this is one of them. And yet audiences are so overwhelmed by its power. Clement Crisp rants, “I can find not one iota of merit in its vulgar posturings.” Guardian critic Luke Jennings calls it “slick surfaced” and replete with “glib insincerity.” I can’t remember Alastair Macaulay’s exact words after its FFD premiere, but he hated it too. And a Ballet.co critic whom I spoke with at an ABT Guggenheim event (and who was the only non-Brit of the lot) complained how awful he thought it was as well.

This happened — I’m sorry, I’m getting off on a tangent — but this happened with practically every Fall For Dance piece, and with ABT’s recent season: EVERY SINGLE CRITIC hated every single one of the pieces the public adored (Barton, Millepied, Mark Dendy’s BRILLIANT Afternoon of the Fauns) and loved those they found least compelling (Ratmansky). I mean, more on this later, but what do you do if you’re an artistic director or choreographer? Do you cater to the critics — the “important people” or do you trust us, the commoners?

Anyway, mine and my friend’s second favorite piece of the night was Tim Harbour’s Leaving Songs. Guess what: all the critics hated it. I need to move to Europe… This dance had such emotional depth. It was about the cycle of life, death and rebirth — though I’m not sure you’d know that if the choreographer hadn’t said so in a little film clip shown before the program. But that doesn’t matter; you can come up with your own meaning anyway. The movement was kind of a combination of modern, classical and what looked to me to be African, and the music, by Australian composer Ross Edwards, is equally varied, at points sounding classical European, at points more percussive and African-sounding.

There were several striking moments, such as the point during a pas de deux where a man puts his hands around a woman’s neck and she falls before him. It kind of seems as if he’s strangling her out of anger, but then her arms flutter about beautifully, almost-bird like. It’s a combination of violence and grace. And there’s a moment where the group is dancing in ensemble and the movement is very wavy and undulating, very African, and everyone’s moving in unison and the music slows and the dancers slow, almost like they’re approaching death. Then the drums start pulsating and the dancers come to life and begin sidling cautiously but with intention toward the front of the stage. There are also several very sexually suggestive scenes with women’s legs splayed in the air. No tights are worn, and my friend and I couldn’t stop wondering how in the world they keep those leotards from shifting…

Anyway, I found the Harbour very compelling. And Rubinald Pronk really stood out here as well. He has so much fluidity and expansiveness in his body, and I don’t think anyone has more intense eyes.

(photo from Vail website)

Alexei Ratmansky’s Bolero was enjoyable too, largely because of the familiar Ravel music. For me, Ratmansky is one of those artists whose work doesn’t jump out at you and hit you over the head with its brilliance. Rather, I’ll need to see a dance of his several times before I get a sense of what it’s about, before I can fully appreciate it. Wheeldon’s work is the same. The critics seem to think this is the mark of a good choreographer — that it grows on you and you notice new things with each viewing, and I suppose it is. But for the average consumer, going to the ballet so often to see pieces over and over again to understand and appreciate them more fully can get prohibitively expensive. Dance art is not like a museum or art gallery where you can stand there for as long as you like.

Anyway, in Bolero, there are four pairs of women and men, each person wearing a number on his or her top. The women wear white tops and little skirts, almost like cheerleaders and the men wear black. If the women were cheerleaders, the men didn’t seem to be any kind of sports players though. They danced in groups divided between male and female, almost as if they were competing with each other, or as if their movement was some kind of back and forth dialog. And then toward the end, they began to partner each other more, the crescendo of the music complemented by various lifts that I found at points to be a little humorous, though it may have just been me. For example, when those trombones (I think that’s what they are anyway; maybe they’re tubas), are blaring kind of off-key at the end, the men lift the women over their heads, upside-down and the women do these upside-down developes, their legs splaying along with the warped trombones. I thought it was funny but I might be the only one.

And then the first piece on the program was Wheeldon’s Commedia (photo above by Erin Baiano), which was made in homage to Ballets Russes and was premiered last year. I wrote a bit about it here and here.

Here’s an excerpt from the company performing Commedia at the Vail International Dance Festival:

Also, this season marks the company’s collaboration with the young orchestra (most players are under 30, Wheeldon said), Philharmonic Orchestra of the Americas, founded and directed by the very entertaining, energetic Alondra de la Parra — yes, a female conductor OMG! The evening opened with Wheeldon giving a little address and then the orchestra playing on Overture to Estancia: Malambo by Alberto Ginastera. At the same time the orchestra played the Overture (this was their first time playing in a pit for dance, and not centerstage, by the way), a screen was dropped over the stage and a delightfully humorous film was shown of the dramatic conductor directing her crew, the violinists all swaying dramatically in unison at points. It was a lot of fun. Whole night was very good.

Just a reminder that this Monday night, November 2, is the America Dances! gala fundraiser for Career Transitions for Dancers at City Center. This year’s gala performance will honor Patrick Swayze (who will be given a posthumous Rolex Dance award), and include performances by Desmond Richardson, Ashley Bouder and Andrew Veyette of NYCB, Stephen Hanna and Tony winner Kiril Kulish of Billy Elliot the Musical, Dancing With the Stars dancers (who are as of yet unspecified), and Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet, amongst others.

Career Transitions for Dancers is a very important organization that helps dancers (who retire young and often without much education outside of dance) to transition into other careers. Swayze strongly supported the organization and was planning to attend the event and receive his award before he passed away.

For more info, go here.

Roslyn Sulcas just reminded me that I am missing Garth Fagan Dance, currently at the Joyce Theater. I may try to go later in the run, but since they’re only on through Nov. 1 and since I’m so busy right now, I might not make it.

Anyway, here are a couple of clips I thought you all might enjoy. First is one of my favorites of his, From Before, and second is from Griota New York, which they performed at the Jacobs Pillow Festival last year.

Practically all of SLSG’s NYCB favorites who were not already principal dancers in the company have just been promoted: the always magical Kathryn Morgan (above, with Seth Orza in Martins’ Romeo + Juliet), heartthrobs Robert Fairchild and Amar Ramasar, the always dramatically compelling Tiler Peck and Tyler Angle, and the statuesque Teresa Reichlen.

Here are Tiler Peck and Robert Fairchild rehearsing Robbins’ Afternoon of a Faun for the Vail International Dance Festival over the summer.

And here are Tiler Peck and Tyler Angle performing the adagio from Christopher Wheeldon’s Mercurial Manoeuvres at said festival:

All promos are from soloist to principal, except young ‘un Morgan who was moved up from corps member to soloist.

All of the new principals will make their debut as such at NYCB’s winter season opening night gala, on November 24th, in Peter Martins’s new ballet set to John Adams’s Naive and Sentimental Music, which will make its world premier that night.

Visit Oberon for more dancer pix and info.

Above photo by Paul Kolnik from Voice of Dance.

I don’t have much time to write — book issues! — but I just wanted to say how much Russell Ferguson blew me away last night on So You Think You Can Dance with his krumping solo. Holy crap! Now I know what krumping is!

Oh my gosh, I’m so glad the judges had him do that solo so we could all see such excellence. I don’t think they were really seriously thinking about kicking him off; they just wanted to let us see his immense worth to the show, just in case people (like moi) didn’t watch auditions

Ohhh, I just want to see him do that again and again and again!

I can’t seem to find any videos of him doing that solo on YouTube. Can anyone else? Here he is dancing his Foxtrot last night with Melanie LaPatin (who replaced last minute an injured Noelle).

My other favorites from last night were Jakob Karr (duh!) and Kathryn McCormick, and I thought Pauline Mata was lovely in her beautiful Waltz, choreographed by Jason Gilkison. I also liked Victor Smalley but am going to have to see him more before I form a definite opinion. Of course I’m really really really upset about Billy Bell having to leave the show over an illness. I hope he’s okay. He’d said that Juilliard had given him the year off to take part in the show so I hope they extend that another year. Otherwise, I’ll definitely be looking for him in the larger dance world.

Oh, and also, Wade Robson’s group routine from Monday night was just about the best I think I’ve ever seen on that show. Go him.

Above image of Russell Ferguson taken from Rickey.org.

Here are a few more pictures of the Broadway show Danny Tidwell’s currently in, Memphis.

The photos (all by Joan Marcus) should give you a sense of what fabulous fun some of these musical numbers are. In the bottom photo Danny Tidwell is on the right side of the picture, in the gold pants.

So Memphis tells the story of Huey (played excellently by Chad Kimball), a poor white southern guy who falls for “black music,” along with a diva (Felicia, played well by Montego Glover) in a local black nightclub he frequents. It’s the 1950s and racial segregation is in full swing but Huey is far ahead of his time and believes, naively and without question, that white mainstream audiences will come to love the music as well as he, and that white society will accept his and Felicia’s relationship. The first he’s right about, the second he’s not — and Felicia pays the price for his insistence on making their relationship public.

The story begins with Huey’s being fired from his record store job for playing the hip-swaying, soulful music he’s so enamored of, though customers seem accepting of it. He then finagles his way into a local radio station, gets the station owners to give him a spin in the deejay booth, and once there, he locks the door and blasts away with his music. Just as the station owners break down the door and throw him out, the calls praising the music start pouring in. Though the station owners are still suspicious of the music, they’re also good capitalists and capitalism trumps racism, so Huey lands himself a new job. Huey soon introduces his audiences to Felicia, who sings live on his show; audiences adore her. Eventually the radio station becomes the most popular in the city, bringing in oodles of money, Huey becomes rich and buys his poor, practically worked-to-death mother a mansion, Felicia becomes famous, and Huey is offered a national TV show.

That’s the first act. It’s a happy, almost fantastical story where things seem to happen too easily; the characters have little struggle. The second act is still mainly upbeat but it’s not quite so syrupy sweet and the characters gain more depth. This is where I thought Kimball in particular excelled.

Felicia, Huey and the dancers and singers of Beale Street (the local nightclub where Huey met Felicia) are now in the North, in New York, where Felicia is on the verge of scoring a big record deal, and production on Huey’s TV show (which kind of resembles Soul Train or an early Dick Clark program) is beginning. Felicia is successful, Huey is not: the TV-show producers are not quite so open to change as the those of the radio show and they insist he replace all the black dancers and singers with white ones. The brave soul he’s always been, Huey tells the TV producers where to go.

“When did I become more black than you,” Huey cries to Felicia as she tries to get him to reconsider. This scene, which takes place in Felicia’s dressing room as she is about to go onstage for an important career-making performance, could have been the most poignant in the play, but Glover is way too sweet. She responds with something along the lines of, “I’ve had to struggle all my life.” But she’s far too nice; she wants way too much to please him after he’s said such a horrendous thing to her. She should have really smacked him, let him have it, driven home to him just what racial privilege means.

Huey returns to Memphis and resumes his local fame at the radio station, and Felicia goes on to become a national sensation. At the end they have a bittersweet reunion in which Kimball practically broke my heart. I haven’t seen this actor in much, but he gave what’s mainly a cute, feel-good story with fun dance numbers as much depth as it would allow. I’ll definitely look forward to seeing him more.

The dancing and singing is tremendous. Danny completely blew me away in every number he was in. All of the dancers are very good, but, I mean, he is just Danny Tidwell He’d do a splits jump and, oh good lord… I really really really want to see him front and center. That’s where he so deserves to be.

Another one who blew my friend and I away was James Monroe Iglehart (center in bottom pic above). He plays well a very lovable character, and, okay, especially for someone who doesn’t exactly have the traditional “ballet physique”, damn can that man dance!

I didn’t go to the stage door to meet the cast members, but here is a link reader Jeanette sent me of her meeting the great one.

Thank you to reader Jonathan for sending me this. On December 22nd, for one night only, Mary Murphy (of So You Think You Can Dance of course) will dance with the Broadway cast of Jason Gilkison’s Burn the Floor. Very very significantly, she will be partnered by SLSG longtime favorite Vaidotas Skimelis (nicknamed Vaidas), a U.S. National Latin finalist whom I’ve long thought of as the Marcelo of ballroom.

How excellent!

Above, Skimelis dancing with partner Jurga Pupelyte in America’s Ballroom Challenge, photo by Jeffrey Dunn; top photo of Murphy from Broadway World.

Brazilian dance troupe Companhia de Danca just wrapped up a short run at NY’s City Center, performing Deborah Colker’s 4X4. Colker has choreographed sambas for some of the most prestigious schools to participate in the Rio Carnival, and she’s also the first woman to choreograph for Cirque du Soleil — she did their most recent show, Ovo.

You could really see the influence both of Carnival and Cirque du Soleil in 4×4. The whole program was very sexy, very acrobatic with the dancers performing feats that looked extremely difficult.

The title of the work refers to small spaces and how we humans try to adapt to them (which is very pertinent to my life right now as I try hard to tolerate the monstrous noises made by upstairs Godzilla and her mother…).

In the first piece, “Corners,” tall, thin, bare-legged, short-skirted and high-heeled women seem trapped in boxes, each within her own. Well, not really trapped though — just inside the box. Each woman climbs about her box, sometimes lying down on her back and tracing the box’s planes with her long legs, spider-like. Eventually men appear, climbing over the high backs of the boxes, then reaching down toward the women, pulling them up, eventually winding up in the box together, each couple performing a very gymnastic pas de deux that evoked a lot of oooh and aaahs from the crowd.

In the second piece, “Table,” a man and woman perform complicated lifts as a a conveyor-type belt runs atop the table, showing their impressive balancing skills.

In the third cutely funny piece, “Some People,” all the dancers take the stage. They dance and jump about joyously, full of life, while performing everyday gestures that may be natural but that you don’t really do in public — smelling, poking, grabbing / scratching your crotch — the men first, then the women almost in imitation of them.

Music to the first two pieces reminded me of Cirque du Soleil but with a Brazilian emphasis — electronics, some guitars, very percussive; music to the third was the song “Someday My Prince Will Come” by Larry Morey and Frank Churchill, which, given the crotch scratching, etc. was rather amusing.

The second half of the program consisted of one dance, “Vases,” with a short overture consisting of women dancing ballet en pointe (the only time in the show anyone’s in toe shoes) to Mozart, as played on an onstage piano by Colker herself (she’s also an accomplished classical pianist).

After the overture, several vases that appear to be made of china or another very breakable material are slowly dropped onto the floor. The vases appear to be set very close together and the dancers — now men joining the women –  must wend their ways around them — leaping, jumping, turning, partnering — at one point, the men push the women around like wheelbarrows, zigzagging in and around those crazy vases.

Soon, lights are dropped from the ceiling toward the vases and the dancers must weave around those as well. Eventually, the lights are dropped into the vases, and, each light still being attached to its wire and all the wires still attached to the ceiling, the dancers now have to dance around these delicate objects on the floor as well all these crazy wires strung from the ceiling. Talk about the need for nimbleness, agility, and amazing spacial sensibilities!

It was a sweet night. Though nothing seemed tremendously profound, I found all the dances to be humorous and cute, while involving difficult hurdles the dancers surmounted seemingly effortlessly.

Only thing, I was expecting and so looking forward to seeing Isabela Coracy (above), from this wonderful film, which I saw at Tribeca Film Festival earlier this year, but she doesn’t appear to be in the company any longer. The film’s producers were the ones who’d told us to expect to see her when Deborah Colker’s company came to town. Only When I Dance follows the lives of two dance students from the favelas (poor areas): Irlan Silva who is now with ABT’s studio company, and Isabela. I was so disappointed because she’s such a beautiful and talented ballerina, trained classically but very able to dance modern as well as the film showed, but the portions of the film devoted to her dance journey made clear how hard it is for black female ballerinas in Brazil — and, from what I’ve seen, elsewhere as well. She’s often told she doesn’t have the “right body,” she needs to diet, yadda yadda yadda — endlessly frustrating, even to you as the audience, because these criticisms seem to overtake any issues with her technique or artistry. And of course she’s not the least bit overweight.

Anyway, I was disappointed that she no longer seems to be with Companhia de Danca. I really wanted to see her dance live.

All photos except the one of Coracy taken from the company’s flickr page; the Coracy photos is taken from the film’s website.

Carlos Acosta is interviewed in the London Telegraph Travel section.

His worst traveling experience?:

“One of the worst was arriving in London to dance at just 18 and not being able to speak the language. I rented a room but didn’t know what anybody was talking about. I felt lost because I just couldn’t communicate. I wanted to see a movie, but everything was in English. When I went to a store to buy something I didn’t know what to say. I bought books and taught myself English, but it was six months before I was ready.”

Via tweet by the Ballet Bag.

Photo by Julian Andrews.

Well, I’m upset about Iveta Lukosiute not making it, but I am glad U.S. National American Rhythm finalist Karen Hauer did. Her husband, Matt, used to teach at my studio and they’d often perform there — and I’ve seen them many times in competition and they are very good. I’m not surprised the judges liked her. She has varied training and can dance — and perhaps just as importantly, she has the kind of body that looks good dancing — many styles.

Here are a couple of (rather bad quality — sorry!) pics I’ve taken of her and Matt at some of the comps.

We weren’t able to see a whole lot of dancing (which is what I despise about the auditions shows) but from what we have seen I’m loving this guy, Billy Bell, above. Early favorite!

Also liking these two: Victor Smalley (something about him — the way he looks anyway — initially reminded me of Tyler Angle)

and Jacob Karr

So far anyway… Apparently we’ll get to know a bit more about the dancers on a special broadcast this Monday night (8 / 7 Central Fox).

Here are the rest of the top 20.

(Two top photos by Julieta Cervantes, third photo by Karli Cadel)

Small company Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet opened their first season at the relatively large Joyce Theater in Chelsea Tuesday night to a nearly packed house. (Big kudos to them!) They performed an evening-length work by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, called Orbo Novo, which translates to “the new world” and kind of takes off from the book My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor, about her experiences suffering a stroke.

Large chunks of text are taken from parts of the book where Bolte Taylor talks about the onset of the stroke — feeling the searing pain behind her left eye, suddenly speaking gibberish while still understanding everything going on around her, hearing only gibberish out of the mouths of others (though she recognizes their voices over the phone), not being able to operate her right arm, seeing her body change form before her eyes, etc. etc. Immensely interesting — and frightening, and read very well by the dancers.

The dance, which (I assume) like the book, becomes a kind of meditation on right-brain versus the left. It is bookended by the dancers being trapped within a red structure (designed by Alexander Dodge), like prisoners, then eventually finding ways of crawling through the holes. At times the dancers wrap their legs around the holes in the structure, their bodies dangling down, hanging limply. At times, the structure is wheeled away and dancers take center stage — sometimes dancing in solos, sometimes in ensemble — their bodies at times writhing in a contorted manner, at times moving more fluidly to music (composed by Szymon Brzoska and performed live by the Mosaic String Quartet) that is at times mellifluous, at times sharp and discordant.

All of the dancers were wondrous, but as usual with this company, those who impressed me the most were the astounding  Acacia Schachte (in center of middle photo, and in bottom), Jason Kittelberger (top and bottom photos), and Ebony Williams. Fun too to see some faces that are familiar from other companies but new to Cedar Lake: Gwynenn Taylor Jones from Alvin Ailey and Manuel Vignoulle from Ballet du Grand Theatre de Geneve.

The company performs at the Joyce through October 25.

Tharp on the issue of “genius”: “Everyone has a talent. It’s simply a question of good discipline, of the good fortune to have an education that meshes with that talent, and a lot of luck.”

Totally agreed.

Read the full article here.

From now through Nov. 1, Carolina Ballet is putting on an evening-length set of dances in homage to Picasso, who designed sets for the legendary Ballets Russes. Sounds v cool.

“Picasso’s influence on 20th- and 21st-century dance was profound. His various strategies to evoke multiple perspectives simultaneously on the same body invoke the possibility of radical movement, potentially on the part of both the subject and the viewer. One can hardly call the subjects in earlier works like “Woman Playing the Mandolin” still: In shattering the human form into a complex aggregate of shifting planes, Picasso seems to be trying to capture a range of motion and a span of time in the single image.”

Top photo: Picasso’s Woman Playing Mandolin, taken from here; bottom, Carolina Ballet in Picasso from above linked to article.

“‘Memphis’ is not a comedy but it’s still a cartoon,” says Charles Isherwood.

I went on Friday night and I don’t disagree but I still liked it a lot. Excellent dancing, singing and acting — excellent performers and very good choreography (by Sergio Trujillo — who did chor for “Jersey Boys” as well). I found the basic story a bit facile and, unfortunately Danny Tidwell (my main reason for going) is not in it very much — he’s a dancer but has no speaking part – but still, it’s definitely worth seeing, especially if you like good singing, fun dance numbers that make you want to get up out of your seat, and a story that’s feel-good in a ”Dirty Dancing” kind of way.

I’m out the door (Cedar Lake opens at Joyce tonight) but my review is coming soon — along with more pictures!

In the meantime, watch a good audio / slide show at the above NY Times link.

Above photos by Joan Marcus.

It could have been because I’ve had a crazy last few days — computer crashing, iphone dropping calls like mad, internet access intermittent, possessed cursor on computer I’m momentarily using, and now serious fights with upstairs Godzilla and her monster mother — we’ll call her Grendel or Mother Grendel rather – it ALL happens at once! Anyway, I watched DWTS last night but I honestly can’t remember much — just too much on my mind. 

Generally, I just can’t stand the Paso Dobles done on these group shows. I love the Spanish dance elements — the flamenco taps and the matador posturing and the cape and all — but I can’t stand it “modernized” and danced to pop music. People just go too crazy with it and it doesn’t make any sense.

Still, my two favorite moments of last night’s show (besides the costumes and wigs used in the group Hustle) were Kelly and Louis’s Paso to Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” and Michael and Anna’s more traditional version of the dance (thank you Anna Demidova!) What I liked about Kelly and Louis though was mainly Louis’s eyes. They were done up to look like Ozzy (of the y 80s of course, not now) along with the hair. He was once so serious (Louis that is) and he looks like he’s having a lot of fun with dance these days, so good for him. He really makes me laugh. The dance though — she tried hard and he of course is excellent at everything he does, but you could tell she kept wanting to jump up and down and pound her fist into the air, mosh-pit-like. And who wouldn’t — “Crazy Train” is not Paso music! I understood why Louis chose it — and Ozzy in the audience looked like he was about to burst into tears of pride (what is happening to the world?)- but still. 

And I loved Michael’s attempts to attain correct Paso posture by placing a nickel between his butt cheeks (at Anna’s suggestion). And I agree with Len that it worked! It is a really odd posture — pushing your hips so forward like that and standing up so straight from the waist down but then with kind of rounded shoulders. It seems so unnatural — like you’re ultra aware of your shaping – unlike with the other Latin dances. And it ended up being Michael’s best dance.

I wasn’t that impressed with much else. I thought Mark’s Paso was strong and his movements sharp but something didn’t look quite right, and I’m not sure what it was. He looked too dainty or delicate or something even though he was trying hard not to. And did Lacey blow out of a cannon or something? What was that entrance about?

Oh — I also really liked Karina and Aaron’s Argentine  Tango. Really nice choreography and really intricate hooks with those legs. And complicated lifts with her legs wrapped every which way around his.

I thought it was rather funny when Joanna tripped in her A.T. I honestly thought it was Maks’s fault (who she danced with since Derek’s sick with flu, as is Mark Ballas — what’s up with those two?) Anyway, they recoverd nicely (Joanna and Maks that is) and seemed to score okay. In fact, I actually thought she did better after the flub. Her legs straightened and she had nicer lines and a really gorgeous ronde en l’air — whereas the first one was bent-kneed and rather blah.

Louie and Chelsie had some cute lifts but I think someone else needs to choreograph for them. Judges loved it but I think she’s not giving him  enough to do and he ends up being more like her escort around the dance floor than a dancing partner.

And Mya’s A.T. was really gorgeous, expectedly. I honestly can’t remember the other two blondes or much of Donny’s though I remember thinking Donny’s was decent. 

I’m sorry I’m so out of it you guys! No sleep in quite some time! What did you guys think?

Judges seemed to like everyone; I have no idea who’s going home tonight.

Reviewed by Christopher Atamian

In the past month I attended four very different performances that were all interesting for different reasons.  Readers will forgive me for giving brief overviews of each rather than the more in-depth analysis that they undoubtedly deserve, but lack of time and deadlines preclude me from doing them full justice!  

On September 26, I had the pleasure of seeing Catherine Gallant/Dance present a series of rarely performed works at the Joyce Soho.  (Photo above of Gallant/Dance performing Isadora Duncan taken from Moving Arts Project.) These included works by Gallant herself, as well as José Limon, Isadora Duncan and Anna Sokolow.  Gallant’s company is rather unique because it is composed of dancers of all ages and body types—it was refreshing to see older women on stage (as in over 30!).  While they may not always have had the same power and lift as their younger counterparts, they displayed a welcome maturity, elegance and presence.  This was particularly true in the sublimely wistful 16 Waltzes Op. 39, choreographed in 1903, also referred to as “the many faces of love.”  Set to Brahms waltzes and as performed by Loretta Thomas, Eleanor Bunker, Michelle Cohen, Francesca Todesco, Marie Carstens and Gallant, the piece lulled the viewer into an almost blissfully intoxicated state.  It was also refreshing to see Anna Sokolow’s 1953 Lyric Suite, set to music by Alan Berg performed by Francesca Todesco, Eleanor Bunker, Michelle Cohen and Chriselle Tidrick.  Another highlight of the evening was the athletic Kristen Foote, a member of Jose Limón, interpreting Isadora Duncan’s Revolutionary (ca 1920-1924), with music by Alexandre Scriabin.  Foote displayed remarkable strength, vitality and grace in this simple but powerful piece.  That she could capture with each step and arm thrust the spirit of the October Revolution and spirit us, the audience, away to a Russia so distant in time and place, is a tribute to this remarkable young performer.  While one or two of the other pieces presented were arguably a bit lackluster, my only regret was that a larger audience hadn’t attend the performance, for Gallant is a historian and choreographer, a dancer and archeologist of dance history who brings to the stage pieces that we might never otherwise see.  We owe her a small debt for her good work and taste.

Emio Greco (photo above by Jean Pierre Moran) came to the Joyce in late September to present the second in his Dantesque trilogy, popopera[purgatorio]. I’ve already written a review of the performance for Dance Magazine which should be out in a few months so I won’t go into any detail here.  While I understand the issues that some critics may have had with the performance, Greco’s intellectual take on dance, the offbeat look of the dancers themselves, as well as the original, spasmodic movement vocabulary were interesting enough to me, although it wasn’t necessarily the most memorable show of the year. All told, the dancers gave a sexy, brassy performance. They also wielded and played the electric guitar-one for each dancer–with some panache.

I was rather surprised by the generally enthusiastic reviews of William Forsythe’s cacophonous mess Decreation (photos above by Julieta Cervantes) at BAM (October 7-10).   I am a huge fan of BAM, of their New Wave Festival and of William Forsythe who is obviously one of our great choreographers-in fact some of the most exciting performances that I have seen in the past years have been choreographed by Forsythe, including an outstanding Juilliard Spring Repertory Concert performance some years back of Limb’s Theorem III which included a wonderful, young Riley Watts contorting his body in the most fantastic ways, an amazing rotating globe and choreography that made the dancers appear almost super-natural or alien in their physicality.  But try as hard as I could, I couldn’t find anything noteworthy about Decreation, which is based on an essay by Canadian writer Anne Carson that examines lives unraveled by love: Sappho, Simone Weil and Marguerite Porete, a medieval mystic who was burned at the stake for not renouncing the views that she expounded in her book The Mirror of Simple Souls.  Decreation begins with Dana Caspersen re-enacting a nasty spat with a past lover while George Reischl repeats her speech in German: they are both barely understandable and contort, grab at shirt, face and body in such visually unappealing ways that they look like two inmates in an insane asylum-perhaps an apt metaphor for something or other, but what is the relation to a failed relationship?  That it drives you mad? That’s it’s just exasperatingly distorting to the soul? And every time Reischl screams out “It’s a spiel” (so what’s new, love’s a game?) I wanted to reach out and well, slap him. At another point in the performance a women grabs her breasts with one hand and her crotch with the other, hanging on to her private parts as she is sandwiched between two male counterparts.  Decreation came off as a questionable mix of dance theatrical elements and surreal or post-modern theater-oh yes, and occasionally someone actually moved, as if to remind the audience that they were at a dance performance.  Certainly this work is complex, but in an abstruse and frankly ugly way: everyone on stage contorts in such odd and unappealing ways and David Morrow’s soundtrack is so grating that you aren’t quite sure how to enter the piece as a viewer. Forsythe received a standing ovation from a few people in the audience which proves, I suppose the old adage de gustibus non est disputandum. (Of the reviews that I have read so far only Tobi Tobias had the courage to call a spade a spade-so I will link to her review here, and to be fair, to Roslyn Sulcas’ altogether more positive New York Times review)

Finally, a redeeming, exquisite Lucinda Childs performance at the Joyce on October 6.  The highlight of the night was Childs’ Dance (photo above by Nathaniel Tilleston), which was accompanied by Sol Lewitt’s wonderful film projected onto a translucent screen, so that one could watch the dancers performing live with the original 1979 filmed performance simultaneously juxtaposed over them.  While this staging doesn’t work as well in a small theater like the Joyce, the dancers were simply exquisite as they performed relatively simple but quick steps (sideways jumps and turning jumps in arabesque) over and over again, mostly in straight lines, changing direction here or there, making absolutely exquisite patterns that have been likened elsewhere to Persian rug designs.  At first the execution seems almost identical, as do the dancers costumed in identical unisex black outfits, but each one actually added his or her own idiosyncratic head tilt or subtle interpretation. It’s not easy to choreograph to music as purposefully repetitious and as fast-paced as Phillip Glass but the dancers acquitted themselves famously, as if floating on a seemingly effortless ethereal cloud for close to an hour.  It was refreshing to see work of such distinction and quality: one felt transfixed as one should by great art.  (Childs, almost seventy, also danced a brief piece with less success, but how nice to see her up there anyway!)

 {A random aside:  After another recent performance, I was discussing Ulysses Dove and his remarkable Red Demon with another dance critic (Dove passed away from AIDS in 1996) and about the past twenty years of choreography.  She gently reminded me that the generation that we lost to AIDS in the 80s and 90’s has left a large hole in our choreographic heritage-between older choreographers and the debatable quality of much of what we now see in contemporary dance.  I will go one step forward and say that while I am all for free expression and believe that anyone who wants to should try his or her hand at choreography, that we have way too many people of middling talent presenting dances today-which is neither good for dance nor for its reputation with the general public.]

The Royal Ballet in London recently opened their fall season with a revival of Kenneth MacMillan’s Mayerling (MacMillan of course is a SLSG favorite choreographer). It’s based on the true story of the apparent suicide / murder in 1889 of Crown Prince Rudolf of Austria and his lover Baronness Mary Vetsera whose bodies were found in Mayerling, Rudolf’s hunting lodge. Prince Rudolf, sole son of Emperor Franz Josef of Austria, was heir to the thrones of Austria, Hungary and Bohemia.

Londoners seem to be loving the ballet. From Neil Norman’s Daily Express review:

“Like John Cranko and Michael Corder, MacMillan choreographs for full-blooded men. There is never any doubt about the masculinity and virility of his creatures. The brothel scene that opens Act II reeks of cigar smoke and a sense of political unease is brilliantly conveyed by the huddled quartet of officers who periodically grab Rudolf to whisper into his ear.

“As the tragedy slides inexorably towards its conclusion, Rudolf’s entanglement with his young mistress, Mary Vetsera (Maria Galeazzi) drives him into a paroxysm of violent frustration. Watson’s tortured solo as he clutches his head and writhes in a kaleidoscope of movement had me clutching my kneecaps until my knuckles were white.

“The denouement is terrifying. As Watson duets with Galeazzi in unhinged passion, the stage seems to smoke with some of the most eloquently violent moves in classical ballet. It really doesn’t get much better than this. If you don’t have a ticket, do something dangerous to get one.”

A few other reviews are here, here, and here. For a full list of reviews see here.

And this from our friends over at the Ballet Bag, which whom I was chatting on Twitter. They told me they think our Marcelo Gomes would make an excellent Prince Rudolf. I think maybe David Hallberg would as well — may give him a chance to get all of that aggression out of his system :)

Here’s a photo they posted of the Royal’s excellent Johan Kobborg in the role.  

Photo of Kobborg by Bill Cooper; top photo by Tristam Kenton from the Financial Times.

What do you guys think? Would an American audience take to such “eloquent violence”? Haglund thinks so, as do I — we have with his other ballets. C’mon Kevin McKenzie, give us a Mayerling!

Here’s a Sarah Crompton interview with Christopher Wheedon in the London Telegraph. Morphoses is about to open their fall season there, debuting a new ballet by Wheeldon and one by Australian choreographer Tim Harbour. At the end of the month, New York audiences will get to see those premieres.

In the article, Wheeldon talks about trying to increase ballet’s appeal to new audiences. He surmises it may be certain ballet aesthetics, such as the toe shoes, that are a turn-off, that may make ballet inaccessible. I strongly disagree though. I think people are generally awed by the toe shoes and by the beauty and immense athleticism of the art form. They’re all the more awe-inspiring when you see them up close, a thought I had recently in the Guggenheim’s tiny theater watching ABT, their studio company, and the students at ABT’s Kennedy-Onassis School of Ballet perform in a Works & Process event there.

I really think people in general are drawn to stories. That’s what I hear anyway from other dance-goers, or would-be dance-goers (who patronize theater and opera but shy away from dance). I think abstract ballets can definitely be intriguing but I think if your repertoire consists of only the kind of story-less ballets Balanchine made it’s going to suffer. I’ll be very excited to see the Alice in Wonderland that Wheeldon’s doing for the Royal.

Roberto Bolle (photo from here) is mentioned in a So You Think You Can Dance review in Entertainment Weekly. Kate Ward is a smart writer

I agree with practically everything she says in that write-up. I watched this week’s show for the first time this season and I couldn’t believe how bored I was. I had to hop around my apartment downing Sauvignon Blanc in order to entertain myself and nearly didn’t make it through the hour-long episode. No dancing is right. It was an hour of all these people sobbing at the screen (whether they made it through or not) and saying things like “It’s not just waaaa… about dance; it’s about waaaaa … so much more; it’s about life!” OH GAWD…

I also agree with her that it was rather shocking that Iveta Lukosuite got booted, and for no apparent reason. That’s what I hate so much about the audition period — you really don’t get to see what the dancers did wrong (since you really don’t see much actual dance); you just suddenly hear your favorite was knocked off. Well, if my blog stats are any indication, she was hugely popular for the time she was on the show. Not so wise of the judges to eliminate her imo…

Anyway, back to Bolle. I just feel like posting this:

Just as I was about to send the final version of my novel off to the publisher my computer crashed. My wonderful friend Mika allowed me to use hers for the day. But since I don’t know how long my laptop is going to have to spend in the hospital, blogging might be intermittent for the next few days.

In the meantime, I’ll try to tweet via my cellphone.

As soon as I return, more on this year’s Fall For Dance Festival, as well as my thoughts on William Forsythe’s Decreation which I recently saw at BAM. I normally really like Forsythe, but I felt you had to have read the Anne Carson essay (of the same name) that the work is based on in order to understand it. Did anyone in NY see it? (photo by Andrea Mohin from NY Times review.)

ABT principal ballerina Gillian Murphy (who I was just going on about needing a ballet choreographed especially for her) will receive a Princess Grace Statue Award , at the upcoming award gala, held at Cipriani on October 21, along with theater / film actor Mandy Patinkin (who is a multiple award-winning Broadway actor but whom I think most still know as Inigo Montoya). Ticket prices look pretty steep, but congrats to them!

Photo by Matt Albani from ExploreDance.

NYCB principal ballerina Wendy Whelan and her husband, photographer and filmmaker David Michalek, are featured in the “Apartment” section of this week’s Time Out New York. Look at that adorable kitty in the first pic :)

Via Oberon.

Above picture (I know, isn’t it amazing!) taken from Dance.net.

I’ve never really learned any of these dances (other than some Charleston in Lindy Hop class) so I’m not sure if I can judge them properly, but I’ll try.

Chuck and Anna’s Two-Step: I thought he did well at some of it– particularly when he kicked in back and slapped opposite hand to opposite foot — but other than that, it seemed like he was walking most of the time, while she was giving her steps more flair. Social dancing is basically walking with attitude but much of his performance here was just walking.

Mark and Melissa’s Charlie Chaplinesque Charleston was absolute brilliance. Wow. That was her best dance by far. Her steps were so perfect, her little bounce spot-on, her character acting perfect, and even the lifts were marvelous. Often non-pro female dancers’ difficulty with the lifts stems from not being able to hold yourself properly in the air, not having the correct shaping (since you don’t realize how hard it is to maintain proper shape with no floor beneath you), but her shapes up there were excellent. I’m so impressed!

Natalie and Alec’s Bolero: Well, given their angst-filled practice it went a lot better than I was expecting.

Continue reading ‘DANCING WITH THE STARS BRINGS ON THE NEW DANCES: LAMBADA, TWO-STEP, CHARLESTON AND BOLERO’

Daniil Simkin and cast in Benjamin Millepied’s Everything Doesn’t Happen at Once in Gene Schiavone photo, courtesy of ABT; all photos by Gene Schiavone (except for Arron Scott headshot below and bottom picture).

Just to let people know, as the photos shows above, the guy who was flinging himself into the group lifts in the first cast of the Millepied was Daniil Simkin; in the second cast it was Arron Scott (below). The program notes only gave a special mention to the two dancers doing the pas de deux and a lot of people were asking who the main soloist was.

Anyway, here are a few more reviews:

Here is James Wolcott on opening night gala (and our fab Shun Lee dinner afterward ), here is Apollinaire Scherr’s FT review; and here are more of Apollinaire’s thoughts on her blog, Foot in Mouth. I’m surprised there aren’t more reviews — this was a pretty big season, with three world premieres — but that’s all I can find at the moment. (Update: Robert Greskovic’s WSJ review just went up; thanks to Meg for letting me know.)

Re the Wolcott write-up: I forgot to mention the models — Iman and Veronica Webb, who, instead of A.D. Kevin McKenzie, thanked the gala sponsors and introduced the program — screwing up Benjamin Millepied’s name. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if they wouldn’t have been so giggly over it. It seemed like they were reading their notes for the first time and were really unprepared. I really don’t know how to pronounce his name either — I’ve always said the last two syllables to rhyme with plie (without the “l”) but have been told that’s wrong. But damn did ABT get a lot of press for signing them on. Just Google “ABT Fall 2009 Season” and it’s all about Iman.

(Gillian Murphy, Cory Stearns and Eric Tamm in Aszure Barton’s One of Three)

Anyway, I saw four of the six programs, saw the Ratmansky and the Millepied ballets four times and the Barton three, and they each grew on me the more I saw them. The Saturday matinee was my last performance and I found it by far the best. I felt like the dancers were finally comfortable with the new dances, knew what they were all about, and really made them meaningful. I described the ballets here.

Oh and regarding SanderO’s comment on that earlier post: yes, I do need to see the story in the dance. The dancer and choreographer won’t pull me in at all if they don’t each tell me some sort of story. That doesn’t mean the ballet has to be a traditional full-length dramatic novel or something with a clearly defined beginning, middle, and end, inciting incident, rising action with crises 1,2, and 3, climax and resolution, etc etc. but there needs to be some kind of story; there needs to be some intention in the abstraction. A lot of critics use the word “evocative” — a dance needs to be evocative of something, and I just mean the same thing. If there isn’t something meaningful going on, there’s no reason for me to see it. I can appreciate the neat geometric patterns and pretty images, but that’s not enough to make me go.

Anyway, I saw more in Millepied’s Everything Doesn’t Happen at Once on further viewings. At first I thought it was kind of everything but the kitchen sink the way Apollinaire kind of describes, but after several viewings I saw more of an evolutionary, battle of the sexes theme throughout, which becomes a more literal battle by the end. The piece starts with the stage looking swimming-pool like with the dancers making broad strokes with their arms. The stage gets over-crowded and eventually someone in charge — looking rather conductor-like, kind of throws his arms up and dismisses everyone.

Then, there’s a pas de trois (two men one woman), which becomes a double pas de trois (same), which turns into the central pas de deux (man-woman). Throughout there seems to be struggle going on — in the pas de trois the men kind of manipulate the woman around, until she’s practically on her side. In the central pas de deux is in places tender, in places more angsty as if the girl is trying to get away from the guy or fight him in some way, and he is struggling to hang onto her.

By the end, the scene has evolved into a kind of battlefield with marching music and the ballerinas doing those Balanchinian marches en pointe. Except they’re more unsettling than cutesy, like in Balanchine. This is the part where Daniil / Arron gets tossed into the crowd, throws himself with wild abandon at the groups of men, who catch him mid-split, then gets caught up with a bunch of grabbing girls.

Interestingly, the audience laughed when this role was danced by Simkin — I think because he is small and a bit long-haired and it kind of looked like he was afraid he’d be taken for one of them and was trying like hell to assert his masculinity. (I think it would have worked better had the girls been chasing him and then he flings himself into the groups of guys rather than the other way around, but not a big deal).

But no one laughed when it was Arron. It looked far more serious with him in the role — it looked like he was practically getting raped by that rabid group of girls.

Also I noticed with Arron that after the rabid group of girls leaves him alone, he kind of internalized the tauning; there was now an invisible fist punching him all about. It really looked like he was getting beaten up by that thing. But the fist was invisible so it was like he’d been driven mad. It was very unsettling, and I think, with the music and the rest of the action, this feeling is more of what Millepied was going for — not all the high air flips, crazy long spins, and windmill jumps that Simkin is known for and did here. Simkin’s character made the end of the ballet more playful than battle-like.

There’s also a short section where there’s all this marching music and there’s more centerstage chaos with all 24 dancers out there at once and suddenly a group of dancers standing at one corner break into partners and go waltzing through the crowd. But it’s really short-lived, like even courtship is a battle.

I don’t know — that’s what I saw on further inspection. But I could be making it all up. It’s kind of fun with abstract ballets (the ones that have a lot going on in them anyway) to make up your own story. I mean, the way dances get made anyway, as I learned at a Guggenheim event last night featuring ABT’s efforts to adapt ballets to different stages (including this small one in AF Hall, meant for concerts), is that things get changed depending on space, depending on the logistics of the stage, depending on dancers. Whoever knows if the end product is what the choreographer originally had in mind anyway.

I don’t think Millepied’s was a perfect ballet — I found a lot of the bird-like patterns from his recent NYCB ballet, Quasi Una Fantasia, to be out of place here – he didn’t need all that; he should have focused more on the battle — but I found his the darkest, the most thematically clear and the most absorbing.

Stella Abrera and Gennadi Saveliev in Alexei Ratmansky’s Seven Sonatas.

The Ratmansky grew on me, as did the Barton. On the last day, Michele Wiles danced the main female character (in the long white ballgown) in the Barton and I loved her. She gave the character a real story. When she comes out onstage she is all bitchy and glamorous, but Michele it’s really an act; she is seeking attention from the main man (in that cast Blaine Hoven) while trying to maintain her haughty demeanor so as not to be shown up by him if he dismisses her. At one point, she extends her arm out to him, as if he’s supposed to kiss it but he turns and runs offstage. She crumbles. It’s heartbreaking.

I also really loved Craig Salstein, Jared Matthews and Daniil Simkin in Barton’s second cast (Matthews and Simkin alternated parts opposite Salstein). They danced a section in the second part and all three made it clear (Salstein most so) that they were in a little competition for the girl’s attention. The girl (Luciana Paris), meanwhile, was just dancing on her own, in her own world, paying them no mind at all. It was hilarious.

But back to Michele Wiles for a minute: a wonderful ABT patron gave me her ticket for a company class, which she couldn’t attend, and Michele seemed so sweet — smiling out and waving at people during the class and even during warm-up.

Also, can some choreographer please please please create a little solo or some kind of dance just for Gillian Murphy! Please! During that company class, during the center floor work when the dancers divided into groups and did turns in a diagonal down the center, Gillian blew everyone completely away. She was like a tornado. But a technically perfect tornado! Everyone in my section literally began to laugh and shake their heads in amazement. She needs something to showcase her technical brilliance and athletic prowess. C’mon ABT!

Each of the dancers brought their own special thing to the Ratmansky. Christine Shevchenko (an up and coming corps member) was gorgeous with the role created by Julie Kent (danced opposite David Hallberg). She was more lyrical than Julie, with flowing, expressive arms that resembled Natalia Makarova in Other Dances. Julie’s arms were more staccato. Hee Seo, who completely blew me away as well, did a combination of the two — by turns feathery and lyrical, and modern and staccato. Alexandre Hammoudi and Jared Matthews both danced David’s original part and they were very different than David. Both connected with their ballerinas much more — when they were left alone onstage they clearly looked about for her, wondering where she was, then accepting they were alone and falling into their solo.

David Hallberg. I can never get enough David Hallberg. He didn’t look around for his ballerina when she left him, but when she returned to the stage, he danced well with her. But when she was offstage, she was out of sight, out of mind with him — he was too busy making Ratmansky’s movement wholly his own. He seems to be a rapidly maturing artist, playing with the music, playing with rhythm, giving some things more emphasis than others. When I first saw him dance this role I thought his “character’s” movement was more modern than classical, but I think that was just because of the way he did one section where he keeps pushing out with his hands, like he’s stopping the air, or stopping something from getting too close. He slowed down that movement a lot, really emphasizing the arms, and then did some ensuing footwork at the speed of light, whereas the others did everything in equal measures -so it didn’t have the same look.

Jared Matthews and Maria Riccetto in Some Assembly Required, photo by Rosalie O’Connor.

ABT also put on Clark Tippet’s Some Assembly Required from 1989, a male-female pas de deux evoking a lovers’ quarral replete with difficult-looking angst-filled lifts, struggling pushes and pulls, then more tender making up. It went on a bit too long; some middle parts that were repetitive could have been taken out, but the cast I saw — Jared Matthews and Maria Riccetto did very well with it. Jared is dancing and dramatizing better than ever before, imo.

And the company also did Robbins’ Other Dances, another male-female pas de deux (this one pretty famous) that was choreographed on Baryshnikov and Makarova. I saw both casts — Marcelo Gomes and Veronika Part, and David Hallberg and Gillian Murphy. I liked both — although I think I honestly prefer Tiler Peck and Gonzalo Garcia’s at NYCB. Gonzalo has a smaller body, more like Baryshnikov’s, and I think some of the gestures — like the placing the hand behind the head, kind of primping, looked sweetest on him. Ditto for Tiler. David is dancing very aggressively these days. He’s making the absolute most of every movement — it can be stunning at times, and at times it seems a bit overdone, which it seemed to me a tad here.

I also think that joke on the Kirov dancers getting dizzy and losing their footing because they don’t spot-turn doesn’t come across as such to new audiences. When Marcelo and Gonzalo did it, many in the audience honestly thought the dancers screwed up for real, not on purpose. David really didn’t do the joke because he’s a cheat I’m kidding — he did, but he spun, stopped, got dizzy, shook himself out of it, and started the next phrase all in the blink of an eye, so you didn’t even notice he “got lost.”

Gillian was good but it didn’t seem to be a dance that showcased her talents to their fullest. I’ll say it again — I really think she is the most athletic and technically one of the best female dancers in the world and she desperately needs more roles that prove that!

I’ve been so busy with Fall For Dance and American Ballet Theater that I haven’t gotten a chance to watch any of this season’s SYTYCD. I was very happy to hear that current 10-dance champion Iveta Lukosiute made it to Vegas. (Ten-dance means she competes in all five Latin and all five Standard ballroom dances — since most couples compete in either Latin or Standard there’s a special category for those who compete in both.) I’m sure she’ll end up as a contestant on the show — she’s an excellent ballroom dancer, obviously. Above, dancing a Standard showcase with her longtime partner Gherman Mustuc.

Above photo by Rosalie O’Connor of Everything Doesn’t Happen at Once by Benjamin Millepied; photos below by Andrea Mohin from the NY Times, of Millepied’s Everything (dancers: Marcelo Gomes and Isabella Boylston), and Alexei Ratmansky’s Seven Sonatas (dancers l-r: Stella Abrera, Xiomara Reyes, and Julie Kent).

Here is Gia Kourlas’s review in the Times.

Photo of Veronika Part in The Dying Swan, taken from Vogue; photos of the three premieres coming as soon as I receive them.

After ABT’s fall season opening night gala performance last night, the really wonderful James Wolcott and Laura Jacobs took friend Siobhan and me out for dinner at Shun Lee (I’d never been there — but wow, excellent excellent food!) and when Laura asked me if I was going to write about the performance, I kind of rolled my eyes and said, “I’ll try!” We all agreed that dance is absolutely the hardest art form to review, especially on seeing a dance for the first time. Let alone THREE dances seen for the first time. With visual art you can stand there all day and examine at it, with music you have recordings and scores, film critics generally see a movie several times before writing a review. With dance you have one chance — often one split mili-second — to remember a half an hour or so of movement, images, patterns, structure, costumes, music, lighting — everything. It’s impossible. Since starting this blog I have so much more respect for dance critics.

Anyway, there were three premieres last night: Seven Sonatas by Alexei Ratmansky, One of Three by Aszure Barton, and Everything Doesn’t Happen at Once by Benjamin Millepied. Also on the bill was a performance by Veronika Part of Fokine’s The Dying Swan. ABT performed, for the first time, in Lincoln Center’s Avery Fisher Hall, a concert hall not accustomed to housing dance performances. (ABT usually holds its fall season in City Center, but changed venues because of City Center’s renovation plans.)

I’m going to be seeing each premiere a couple more times this season and prefer to write after I’ve seen each more than once. But since the season is so short (it ends October 10, this Saturday), I’ll write something up front. These are only first impressions though, and I’ve found I see so many more things with repeated viewings.

Honestly, everything kind of blended together for me. Part of this was because of the sparseness of the Avery Fisher stage — there were no sets, no wings, no curtains — so dancers warmed up onstage before us, giving each piece a kind of Cabaret-like feel; and part of it was because costumes for each piece were all black and white. I remember lots of black, lots of white and the hardwood of that stage.

1) Ratmansky’s Seven Sonatas was performed to Domenico Scarlatti music by three male-female couples: David Hallberg and Julie Kent, Herman Cornejo and Xiomara Reyes, and Gennadi Saveliev and Stella Abrera. Costumes were all white — flowing dresses for the women, classical tights and 18th-Century tops for the men. The movement was a combination of classical and modern and, though the ballet was generally story-less, each couple seemed to have a little narrative: Cornejo and Reyes were the young, playful couple, Herman full of high jumps with many beats of the feet that really wowed the crowd and Xiomara dizzying rapid multiple turns. At one point Herman did this crazy turn in the air, landed on his back, and caught her. Crowd went wild.

Abrera and Saveliev seemed to be a more mature couple, perhaps in mourning. It seemed Abrera was a woman, possibly a mother, who’d lost a child or something — Saveliev seemed to be trying to console her and keep her from self-destructing. It seemed like she kept trying to break free of him and reach out to some invisible thing.

I’m not sure what Hallberg and Kent were meant to represent except maybe a modern couple — they seemed to have the most modern movement. David appeared to be trapped in a box and he kept pushing out; he had a lot of quick movement with fast stops in different directions and a lot of it in parallel — not turned-out — position. Julie had a lot of sharp, staccato movement. They could’ve also been a courting couple: at one point, David was on one knee and he invited Julie to run at him and jump on him. When she did, he took her into this lovely lift. It’s sweet and many in the audience lightly laughed.

The ballet was broken into duets and solos and bookended by two ensemble movements, the first pretty and lyrical, the latter more chaotic as they all perform their very different movement motifs at once, some trying on others’ movement styles — everyone does the staccato arm patterns for a while, etc. At the end, the women lay on the floor and the men wrapped their bodies over them.

One other thing: our David Hallberg is sporting longish hair these days I think it looks good, and fun for a change! Funny thing is, he’s so beautiful and glamorous, I tend to get jealous if him, even though he’s a man… which I guess should be kind of odd…

2) Barton’s One of Three was set to Maurice Ravel’s Violin Sonata in G and danced by a whole slew of tuxedoed men, and three women — Gillian Murphy, Misty Copeland, and Paloma Herrera. Why is it that women choreographers tend to use men so much more! (And female dance-writers tend to focus on male dancers — is this feminist?)

Anyway, the piece begins with Cory Stearns walking out dressed in a tux and black jazz shoes. He does a little solo and his movements are all modern, angular, which contrasted in an intriguing way with the tux. I don’t know if it was his being a bit weirded out by the curtainless stage (which forced him to walk out in the dark with all of us watching) or whether it was part of the character, but he seemed to have this loopy smile in the beginning, that was really rather endearing. I chatted with a friend during intermission and she felt just the same.

Anyway, soon Cory was joined by more tuxedoed men, and then by Gillian, who came prancing out in a long white cocktail gown with her radiant red hair tied back into a sleek twist. The men would kind of veer toward her, sideways, their bodies leading their heads in, to me, a rather amusing way. Gillian’s character was very haughty, very glam and posh and she acted like she was ordering the men around with her little finger. The men often seemed led by their bodies, moving first with the back, or at times one leg would take a step, the rest of the body reluctant to follow (I noticed that most with Jared Matthews, who I thought was dancing at his best last night). I found this a very interesting movement motif.

Misty Copeland was the lead character in the second movement. She wore a short black and white dress, her costume and character more flirty and wild. But same thing — she seemed to kind of taunt her tuxedoed men.

And third movement was led by Paloma, wearing a black lacey top and black pants. She smiled a lot more than Misty and Gillian, but she seemed to move in a slinky, sexually-empowered way, like a tanguera.

Now that I think about it, though there were many more men here, the women seemed to have all the power. Fun!

3) Next on was Part’s Dying Swan, which was really poignant, as I knew it would be. It’s a very short piece, but it’s funny how the ballerina can really do it however she wants to; I just saw Diana Vishneva perform this in the Fall For Dance Festival and her Dying Swan was very different. Whereas Diana spent most of the time on her toes, bourreeing, Veronika spent more time on the floor, one leg stretched out before her (like in above picture), then rising again to her toes for one more breath. Diana’s swan seemed to flutter about more, like she was fighting death, she lay down only at the very end. Veronika kept holding her arms up in front of her, her wrists bent and her hands cupped over, as if to foreshadow what would happen to her body. In general, Veronika’s swan accepted and approached death more gracefully or willingly, but Diana’s, with that broad wingspan, at times really looked strikingly birdlike. I don’t know if I can say I liked one interpretation better than the other — both were breathtaking and both very poignant.

Did anyone else see both swans?

4) And the program ended with Millepied’s Everything Doesn’t Happen at Once, set to David Lang music that was at times mellifluous and at times cacophonous or eerie. He used a large group of dancers but Marcelo Gomes, Isabella Boylston and Daniil Simkin had the main parts and so stood out the most (and Kristi Boone shone in a smaller role).

There was a lot going on here — both in the music and in the dance, and I felt that, unlike with Millepied’s earlier piece for ABT — From Here on Out — composed to music by Nico Muhly (who was in the audience) — in this one the movement kept up, didn’t let the music outshine it. The stage is set up to resemble — at least to me — a pool. Dancers would gather around it and watch the people dancing in the lit-up center. At the beginning there seemed to be a swimming motif, with large, rounded arm movements resembling breaststrokes. Movement is also evocative of birds as well though, and some of the same lifts were present as in Millepied’s recent work for NYCB, where the women are perched on the men’s shoulders, their arms outstretched sideways.

In the middle part, Marcelo and Isabella have a rather haunting solo. The ballet is generally story-less but as far as I could make out any narrative, it appeared she was sort of struggling against him. He seemed very careful and gentle with her (in sharp contrast to a later, more hostile duet he has with the super-strong Kristi Boone, who seemed to be either Isabella’s competitor or her double), but she — Isabella — nevertheless kept trying to push away from Marcelo as he held her. The duet ends with them walking toward the back of the stage holding hands, connected, but her body is lunging as far as possible away from his. A rather warped relationship.

Then there’s a rather amusing section where bravura dancer Daniil Simkin is struggling with a bunch of women. He tries to break free of them but then he keeps throwing himself into their arms, making them catch him in these rather breathtaking group lifts — one of them ending in a perfect split in the air. And he has a bunch of crazy multiple pirouettes that had the audience audibly gasping. It all went with his character though, who seemed rather crazed, like he may have just escaped from an asylum or something. I kept wondering who else was ever going to be able to perform that role…

I didn’t go to the gala party but in addition to Muhly, I saw Alessandra Ferri in the audience, one of the Billy Elliots, and apparently Natalie Portman was there.

Anyway, I’ll write more at the end of the season, when I’ve seen these new dances a few more times. Here is Haglund’s review.

Finally, ABT’s Contemporary season is here; it opens tonight at Avery Fisher Hall, at Lincoln Center, with premieres by choreographers Azsure Barton, Alexei Ratmansky and Benjamin Millepied (pictured above, left to right). Plus, there’s a special addition — a performance of Michel Fokine’s Ballets Russes classic, The Dying Swan, by SLSG favorite Veronika Park! (top photo, by Jade Young)

Another important dance event that opens tonight is William Forsythe’s company performing the U.S. premiere of his Decreation, at Brooklyn Academy of Music. Unfortunately, their performances are the exact same nights as ABT’s shortened season so most big dance fans are probably going to be at Lincoln Center for the next few days. But Forsythe is a very important choreographer and I strongly encourage all New Yorkers to try to make it out to BAM for at least one of the perfs between tonight and October 10th.

There’s a post-performance talk with Forsythe tomorrow night at BAM (October 8), and another talk between Forsythe and philosopher Alva Noe about consciousness as a kind of dance at the New York Public Library the following day. I find Forsythe to be brilliant and it’s always fascinating to hear him talk.

You guys are going to kill me but I’m actually sad to see him go (for those who didn’t see the show last night, he didn’t get booted off but announced he had to quit because of a serious stress fracture in his foot). I thought his presence on the show kind of de-politicized (or disempowered) politics — his “why can’t we just get along”-themed Samba with Cheryl this week with her dressed in the blue dress with the donkey insignia on the skirt and him in the red with the elephant patch on the back was hilarious. And he was a surprisingly good dancer — particularly for someone his age with no prior dance training who’d devoted his life to something entirely different.

I also liked his reason for leaving the show. He didn’t say he couldn’t perform but that he couldn’t practice, and the way he said it made it clear just how much he valued practicing. He realized how hard it is to learn to dance and to dance well, and how hard you have to work at it. And the thought of going out there without being adequately prepared is what he couldn’t handle. As should no one, in anything in life really. There are a lot of people who’d just wing it, who just wing it in everything they do. To me last night, whatever his politics, the man stood for serious work ethics.

But I know people hated him for his politics (which I honestly don’t know much about and frankly don’t want to know at this point!) So now everyone can watch the show in peace.

I’m also sorry to see Debi Mazur go. She wasn’t doing well but I still think she could have improved and I would have liked to see her try. Oh well…