Janie Taylor and Benjamin Millepied in “Rubies.” All photos are by Paul Kolnik.

Sterling Hyltin and Gonzalo Garcia in “Rubies.”

Jonathan Stafford and Sara Mearns in “Diamonds.”

Maria Kowroski and Charles Askegard and cast in “Diamonds.”

Abi Stafford and Jason Fowler in “Emeralds.”

So New York City Ballet ended its Winter season with Balanchine’s Jewels, his three-act abstract ballet in homage to three different styles of classical ballet: “Emeralds” set to Gabriel Faure in honor of the French style; “Rubies” set to Stravinsky in honor of the American jazzy / showgirl-y style; and “Diamonds” set to Romantic Tchaikovsky and in the imperial, celebratory Russian style.

“Diamonds” has long been my favorite part, but the more I see of the full-length ballet (“Rubies” is often performed apart from the rest, in mixed rep programs), the other two are growing on me, particularly “Emeralds” with its complex patterns, its subtlety and nuance. And of course I like “Rubies” because I think, through this part of the ballet, new audiences unfamiliar with Balanchine can best see how he created a certain kind of “Americanized” ballet for his adopted country.

There were several debuts in the various roles: Janie Taylor and Gonzalo Garcia in “Rubies,” and I think Sterling Hyltin in “Rubies” as well (it was my first time seeing her anyway). Janie was an absolute blast to watch. She doesn’t really have the proper hips for this heavily hip-jutting, hip-swaying role — she’s so tiny and waify — but she was putting everything she had into it, taking every single movement, every jump and stretch and supported penchee and pose as far as it could possibly go and you just couldn’t take your eyes off her. It was the best performance of that part that I’ve seen since Ashley Bouder debuted in it a couple years ago. What was also so stunning about Janie’s performance was her commitment to perfecting every little detail in making a certain shape — it reminded me of her absolutely captivating performance as the Novice in Robbins’ The Cage. Except this wasn’t a creepy male-devouring insect, but a fun flirty showgirl. And yet there was a certain darkness to it — I think there always is with her (Alastair Macaulay has noted the same), but that darkness somehow worked here. She made the role her own, which is what a great interpretive artist must always do.

Janie Taylor danced with Benjamin Millepied, who was very good as well — the most animated I’ve seen him lately, actually. Maybe Natalie Portman was in the audience? I didn’t see her though.

When Gonzalo debuted he danced with Sterling. Of course I always love Gonzalo and, as always, he was very animated and dramatic, making a little story out of every little interaction with Sterling. Which is what I always love about him and what I find so engaging. They did have a few kinks to work through though – -sometimes it seemed like they’d nearly missed hands in connecting, like they weren’t completely in sync with each other. But that was only physical and was likely something you might have only caught if you were sitting up close (as I was). Emotionally they connected perfectly — which to me is more important — unless of course a physical mis-connection results in a fall or something. Hyltin does have the hips for this role and she seemed like she was having a lot of fun with it too. She was really stunning.

Of course I loved Sara Mearns in “Diamonds,” which I knew I would. This was my first time seeing her in the role and she was perfect. It was just like Swan Lake all over again. Sir Alastair in his end of the season review calls her the best ballerina in NYCB and perhaps all of New York and I generally agree, especially regarding her adagio. I guess the perfect ballerina would be someone with her or Veronika Part’s adagio technique and Gillian Murphy or Paloma Herrera’s allegro — I would have preferred for Mearns, for example, to be a tiny bit more seductive with the fouettes in the SL Black Swan pdd — but I don’t know if that ballerina exists today. I don’t know if she’s existed ever. Maybe Gelsey Kirkland? I don’t know, I never saw her dance live, but judging by what I hear from those who did, and from my own video-watching, she seems to have had everything…

Anyway, “Emeralds”: I liked Abi Stafford in the solo; I liked her port de bras — very beautiful arms, very well-articulated gesturing. Her performance was sweet. I also liked Jenifer Ringer as the second girl who does what I call “the courtship walk” with the male dancer. Her performance was full of subtlety and charm; I sensed a kind of  sweet shyness as she tip-toed en pointe along with the boy, first going in his direction, then kind of changing direction and walking around him in circles, making him kind of follow her.

At my final performance of the season, I sat next to James Wolcott and Laura Jacobs, who introduced me to several Ballet Review people. Ballet Review seems like such an excellent publication and it’s really too bad the articles aren’t available online because Jacobs has a very interesting scholarly piece on this ballet, arguing that it’s more about Balanchine’s love of Suzanne Farrell than anything else. If you can get your hands on it, I highly recommend that article!

(photo of Liebslieder Walzer by Paul Kolnik, taken from Washington Post review).

New York City Ballet is closing out its Winter season — and first ever Classical season — this week. Tomorrow begins Balanchine’s masterpiece (imo), Jewels (which continues through Sunday); last week were two programs of mixed rep, which included Balanchine’s Liebeslieder Walzer and Tschaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2, and Jerome Robbins’s Dances at a Gathering and West  Side Story Suite.

Making his debut in Liebeslieder was corps member Justin Peck (headshot above by Paul Kolnik, from NYCB website); he danced the part that Nilas Martins is dancing in the photo at top, along with Jennie Somogyi (who is also in that photo). I thought they really did well, and they stood out the most to me of the four couples.

This ballet is divided into two sections: it begins with the ballroom section where the women are in ballgowns and dancing in regular heeled ballroom shoes, and the section section where they are in long skirts made of tulle, and toe shoes. The men remain in tuxedos throughout. Balanchine has said that in the first section, it is the couples who dance; in the second it is their souls.

And that sentiment is really beautiful. But I don’t see a real difference, except for the obvious — the women’s costumes and shoes. I still thought each section was lovely though, particularly the opening ballroom section, but that could be because I’m trained in ballroom.

Critics have also said that each couple is supposed to represent a man and woman at a different stage in their romantic lives (one couple was supposed to be young love — which I thought would be Justin and Jennie; another more mature love, etc. — so I thought Darci Kistler and Philip Neal). But I didn’t really see that — I thought at points Justin and Jennie represented young, sprightly love, but then at other points their movement is slower and more deliberate and less scoop-me-off-my-feet — and at one point he picks her up and carries her horizontally, as if she’s collapsed, either from fainting or from sleep or perhaps sickness? It’s a beautiful lift whatever it means. And then at points Darci will run playfully and let Philip chase her. It’s sweet and made me fall in love with them momentarily and become involved in their story. But it didn’t seem then like they were this more mature couple. Not that you can’t run and jump and be excited and playful if you’re not “the young ones” of course, but I mean, the couples didn’t really seem different to me. And the fact that I couldn’t discern any particular story behind any of their actions made me less involved in the ballet than I wanted to be. But I still found the movement and the music (Brahms Opus 52 and 65) relaxing and engaging. Maybe I need to see it a few more times.

Every time I see Tschaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2 on the program I think I’ve never seen this Balanchine / Tchiakovsky piece before, and then once it begins, I realize it is the ballet ABT calls Ballet Imperial. I think ABT has a set though, which resembles a palace, which makes it seem more “imperial.” At NYCB the stage is bare. This is the ballet with all the beautiful brises for the main man — the jumping from side to side with many beating together of the feet in the air. Here, that man was Stephen Hanna and he did an excellent job. Teresa Reichlen and Kathryn Morgan were the female leads. Hanna was most memorable to me though. Hanna partnered Reichlen very well, and I’m thinking he and Jared Angle are probably two of the strongest male partners in the company.

The Dances at a Gathering production on Sunday afternoon (Feb. 21) was the best I’ve ever seen of that ballet. SLSG favorite Gonzalo Garcia (!) was the guy in brown, and he did an excellent job. That character really sets the ballet in motion as, at the end of his opening solo, he looks out with a bit of nostalgia at the stage, surveying it, kind of preparing the audience for all of the characters who will appear on it — who seem to be people from his life, his memories. It’s like he’s taking you on a journey with him and Gonzalo set that up perfectly. And then everyone else was just so on! Maria Kowroski was the carefree, independent girl in green cutely shrugging off male onlookers, Jenifer Ringer and Abi Stafford were the younger, frolicking girls; when Jenifer partnered with Jared Angle those two did some of those lifts with the most sweep I’ve ever seen — the audience exclaimed practically in unison.

And Jared Angle was stunning with his tour jetes and his series of corkscrew jumps flowing right into the Russian folk-steps afterward. He is definitely one of the best men overall at NYCB right now — in terms of his technique, his form, his ability to both partner strongly and dance those bravura solos perfectly. You don’t think of him as a bravura dancer, and he’s not really — he’s more of a great partner, which is probably why I’m just now recognizing his brilliance, during this classical season where strong partnering is essential for being a successful romantic lead.

Sara Mearns was brilliant (again) as the dreamy, pensive woman in mauve, and I realized at one point what it is that makes her a favorite of mine. She was dancing alongside two other women — all three were partnered by men and they were all doing supported slides with the women in a dipped position, the men sliding the women across the floor like that. Well, the two other women immediately brought their free arm down at the beginning of the slide and held it in that position, which was pretty and created a nice line. But Sara brought hers down slowly and made a fuller, kind of half-circle motion, nearly brushing the floor with it. She doesn’t seem to strike poses so much as she is always moving and I think that’s what makes her so captivating — she’s always doing something, carrying out the line and extending the shape, and embellishing the music.

As for the other dancers: Antonio Carmena was very on with all of his jumps and turns, as was the fast-moving Megan Fairchild, and Jonathan Stafford and Amar Ramasar stood out in their roles as well. Amar always looks good in those strutting walks and that Russian folk-like movement Robbins uses in many of his ballets.

And that day ended with West Side Story Suite, which the audience went wild over. A woman behind me exclaimed that it was better than what she’d seen on Broadway. This ballet is always a romp, though I think it starts to lose some of its thrill the more times you see it. Still, I always love Andrew Veyette as the leader of the Jets and watching Georgina Pazcoguin do all those gorgeously high kicks and belt out the tune to America. I can’t imagine ever seeing anyone else in that role. And of course she gets loads of applause at curtain call. Benjamin Millepied danced Tony, which I’ve seen him dance before. He did fine, as always, but I wondered what Gonzalo might be like in this part?

Okay, on to Jewels!

Photo of Desmond Richardson by Andrea Mohin, taken from NYTimes.

So, “Kings of the Dance” made the New York stop of its international tour this weekend at City Center. I was there Friday night. The last time this show toured here several years ago (it is produced by Russian dance promoter Sergei Danilian) there were only four male dancers — Angel Corella, Ethan Stiefel (both of American Ballet Theater), Johan Kobborg of the Royal Ballet in England, and Nikolay Tsiskaridze of the Bolshoi. This year, there were many more dancers and Tsiskaridze was the only one who returned (and, funny, but I totally didn’t recognize him). The others were: David Hallberg, Marcelo Gomes and Jose Manuel Carreno from ABT, Joaquin De Luz from NYCB, Guillaume Cote from Canada, Denis Matvienko from Ukraine, and Desmond Richardson from NY-based Complexions Contemporary Ballet (So You Think You Can Dance fans may recognize his photo above, since he has guest performed on the show a couple times).

What I liked about this program the last time it toured here was that there were fewer dancers, and that way you kind of “got to know” them better, by seeing them each perform several different pieces. Here, you basically only saw many dancers once, and a few twice. If you weren’t familiar with them (as my two friends who came with me weren’t), you could easily get them confused. They played a short movie at the beginning where each dancer (besides Desmond Richardson; I think he may have been a late addition to the American tour) talked a bit and you saw them dance. Jose’s cute Cuban accent seems to have gotten more pronounced — I think he did it on purpose, knowing how many female fans would be in the audience! David’s voice somehow sounded a bit deeper than it does in person. Matvienko (who, for ballroom dancers, looks A LOT like former US champ Andrei Gavriline) and Tsiskaridze spoke in Russian and their words were translated.

What I loved about this program though was that there were so many solos that exposed us to so many different choreographers whose work I’d never seen (and some of whom I’d never even heard of) before. Every company in this country is obsessed with Balanchine, so it’s a wonderful wonderful change when we actually get a taste of something else. But more on that in a moment.

As with every Danilian production, there were lots and lots of Russians in the audience, and I think Desmond Richardson and Joaquin De Luz in particular grew a new fan base. Poor Joaquin — well, maybe: after the performance and during intermission I kept hearing, “That little guy was great!”, “That little guy was just incredible,” “Where can I see that little guy dance?” So, Joaquin is the great “little guy” whom everyone is seeking out now. And everyone went wild after Richardson’s solo, Lament, choreographed of course by Dwight Rhoden, an absolute master at presenting his friend’s spellbinding combination of gracefulness and masculinity. My friends were floored, along with the rest of the audience judging by the exclamations.

After the movie, they opened with Christopher Wheeldon’s For 4, for four dancers, which is a carry-over from the last performance. On the night I went it was performed by Matvienko, Carreno, De Luz, and Cote (but the cast varied each night). It’s an adagio lyrical piece, as with the vast majority of Wheeldon’s work, and I wished there would have been some more allegro parts with bravura solos. But that’s just not Wheeldon’s thing.

Then, after intermission, we saw a solo performed by each man, ending with a drop dead gorgeous duet danced by Cote and Gomes choreographed by French choreographer Roland Petit, from his Proust ou les Intermittances du Coeur. The men were dressed in skin-toned unitards, which almost made them look naked, and the duet to me seemed to be about a man obsessed with his reflection, or another side of himself, as each’s movement was mainly a reaction to the other’s. But at some points there was some really beautiful partnering, some really beautiful lifts and it seemed like a man dancing with his soul. Breathtaking!

Anyway, other highlights of the solo section were: a really beautiful solo for Marcelo choreographed by Adam Hougland, called Small Steps, which was like lyrical iron-pumping — a series of beautiful poses showing off his musculature interspersed with flowing lyrical movement; a beautiful, lyrical piece danced by David Hallberg from Frederick Ashton’s Dance of the Blessed Spirits; a fast, fun, more virtuosity-heavy solo by David Fernandez for Joaquin De Luz called Five Variations on a Theme; Jose Carreno dancing a gorgeous adagio to Ave Maria – a modern version — by Igal Perry (which I’d seen before and fell in love with it all over again); and Rhoden’s Lament for Richardson, which, like Marcelo’s solo, reminded me of lyrical iron-pumping (which I mean in a good way of course) highlighting as it did that seemingly incongruous combination of male elegance and virility.

The only ones that didn’t really work for me well were Boris Eifman’s Fallen Angel danced by Tsiskaridze, which I think just didn’t have enough context, and Vestris by Leonid Jakobson danced by Matvienko, which was by turns a comical and bravura piece first danced by Baryshnikov in 1969. I thought Matvienko was a lovely dancer with really beautiful lines who could really deliver on the jumps and especially turns, but I just think it needed to be better acted because there were some places where it almost seemed like he made a mistake, and then you realized it wasn’t a mistake by the dancer; it was supposed to be the character who humorously screwed up. I heard Baryshnikov was excellent and I wish I could see a video of that.

Then, we saw Spanish choreographer Nacho Duato’s Remanso, which I’d never seen live before, but saw in a video performed by ABT. It involves a wall with three dancers interacting with each other around it, climbing over it, looking around it. It’s sweet, flirtatious in places, and loving and romantic. The night I saw it it was danced by Gomes, Cote, and Hallberg, though this cast alternated each night as well.

The program ended with a bravura “Grand Finale” with each dancer coming out and doing jumps and turns, and all the big fancy “male things” of classical ballet.

But the thing I kept thinking throughout was, wow, that’s really cool choreography, who’s that choreographer? Oh,  I’ve never heard of him, or, oh I’ve heard of him, how cool that I finally got to see something by him! I mean: Roland Petit, Igal Perry, David Fernandez, Adam Hougland, Nacho Duato, Leonid Jakobson. We NEVER get to see choreography by these people here. Petit is a major choreographer. As is Duato (we really see his choreography only when his own company tours here, infrequently), ditto for Eifman, and the others I’ve never even heard of. Why don’t we see more variety here? Why don’t we see more Mats Ek and Pina Bausch and John Cranko? Why do we have to drown in Balanchine over and over and over again? Why do dance companies think that we want to see Balanchine? Why do they think Americans are into this man? As far as I’m concerned, his only truly great work is Jewels. The rest, okay, his footwork is more intricate and there are certain subtle little embellishments in the variations, but really, what was so great about his ballets in their entirety? What was so great that we have to be so completely inundated with him here in the US? I mean, it makes sense that NYCB does his work because they were founded by him but every other major company in the US is likewise obsessed – San Francisco Ballet, Miami City, Boston, Pennsylvania, even the Kirov and POB when they tour here they think we want more of this crap. And whenever ABT doesn’t do classical, there seems to be an overload of Balanchine. Does anyone consider that maybe, just maybe, we might get bored? That he doesn’t speak to younger generations of Americans AT ALL? Did someone tell POB and Kirov that Americans only understand Balanchine so you have to do Balanchine when you come here? I think ballet is dying in this country because of every artistic director’s completely inscrutable obsession with this boring boring man.

Anyway, I greatly thank Mr. Danilian for allowing Americans to see something else for a change.

For a completely different perspective, see Macaulay’s review.

Photo of Sara Mearns in Swan Lake, by Paul Kolnik, taken from NY Times.

Last week was the first time I’d seen Peter Martins’ version of Swan Lake. Overall, I wasn’t in love with the production, but I was in love with the dancing, particularly Sara Mearns’ interpretation of Odette, which nearly moved me to tears, which just hardly ever happens with Swan Lake. She is the Veronika Part of New York City Ballet to me and I just love her. She inhabits whatever character she’s dancing with her entire being and she takes you to that place with her; she really creates another universe and she puts you right there and won’t let you leave it! I think here what I loved was that she humanized her Odette. So many ballerinas will focus on getting the fluttering foot just right, waving their arms about with just the proper fluidity that they look like actual wings, and of course totally nailing the chaines and fouettes in the second act. They make the White Swan all about the styling and the Black Swan all about the athletics. And they forget about the story.

But with Mearns — just the way she would wrap Prince Siegfried’s arms around her body, the way she’d nearly dive into an arabesque letting him catch her before turning her, or fall nearly to the floor and arch her back, wrapping herself around his kneeling knee — everything was about the tragic story, about Odette’s loving the prince and longing for him and her need for him, and then his inability to fulfill that need. I’ve honestly never been so moved before, and when she bourreed away from him at the end (there are no suicide swan dives into the lake here), leaving him, it just left me with such a emptiness. I couldn’t stop thinking about that — about her wrapping his arms around her in the pas de deux and then her sorrowful bourrees away from him at the end — for days; I still can’t get over it. I think those images will always be in my mind when I think of this ballet.

And she just had so much stage presence. Sometimes when all the swans are onstage together, I’ll lose Odette, but not with Mearns. I think that may partly be because she has a broad face, allowing her expressions to be more noticeable to the entire house. But of course she makes those expressions that not everyone does — her face, her body, she is always fully immersed in the role.

And Jared Angle was the absolute perfect partner. You can tell he’s a very strong guy and a very solid partner who’s easy to get along with. Because she’d really really throw herself into those arabesques and he’d catch her and she was so off her center of balance — she had to be in order to show the passion and emotion, and the full, expressive line – and he’d promenade her like that, and it was so incredible because you could tell he spent the better part of the ballet supporting a lot of her body weight.

And he acted it well too, and did perfectly on his solos. Very impressive performance by him!

The other cast I saw was on opening night with Maria Kowroski in the lead and Stephen Hanna making his debut as Siegfried. Hanna was very good — he’s a strong guy too, and that night, he performed a major save! Toward the beginning Kowroski went to jump into his arms, on her way into a shoulder-high lift, and she slipped before she ever got to him. He somehow reached out and caught her anyway, and took her up into that lift beautifully. The whole audience went “ahhhhhh”! I think it threw Kowroski a bit though because she seemed nervous and a bit shaky throughout the rest of the ballet. She might also have been a bit anxious because Hanna was debuting in the role, so they obviously hadn’t performed it together yet. At intermission, someone mentioned she might have been less nervous dancing with her usual Charles Askegard. Maybe that’s true. I thought Hanna did a very good job overall.

But I’m not in love with the production. Like Martins’ Romeo + Juliet, the sets are very modern, and the costumes for Siegfried and Benno and his friends are bright, color-coded, and basic with minimal embellishments. But the sets are the worst. In the beginning, you can’t even tell they’re in a palace. In the second act, the sets are not only minimal, but what’s there is so incredibly modern, just a few brown and beige slashes on some backboards. And yet, the people are dressed in Elizabethan costumes. Either set it in modern times completely or go with the historical thing, but don’t do half and half?…

And the production just moves way too fast, in my opinion. This worked for Sleeping Beauty (the paring down of all the miming and the boring court dances, in favor of getting right to the point and to those gorgeous variations), but it didn’t work here because there’s too much story up front missing. We see all these people dancing — we don’t know they’re in a palace, so we just see them all dance, and next thing we know, Siegfried’s all bouncing around with a bow and arrow. Then he runs offstage and a moment later, on comes Odette. Then Siegfried runs back out and they do a pas de deux, and after that’s over, Odette runs one way, Siegfried runs the other, and on come the swan ensemble. And — and maybe this is conductor Karoui’s doing — but you don’t even realize Odette’s run away from Siegfried because she’s afraid of Von Rothbart, and that now Siegfried is running around madly trying to find her. Instead, it just looks like a bunch of running. There should be pauses so that you know exactly what’s happening and why– the pacing is way way too fast. I never really did see Siegfried fall for her. I first realized there was something between them when Mearns’ Odette wrapped Siegfried’s arms around her in the White Swan pdd.

The other thing is the ending, which I both like and don’t like. In this ending, there is no suicide with the two lovers  ending up together in eternity. Instead, since Siegfried has betrayed Odette with Odile, they can’t be together. The problem is that Martins still has Von Rothbart die — he melts into a puddle and dies once he realizes their love is undying and real. But then, if he dies, the spell should be broken and Odette can resume human form. So, the ending then loses its mysticism and becomes a human ending — Odette leaves him because he’s betrayed her, and even though he’s horribly sorry, the damage is done and can’t be undone. So, basically she just can’t forgive him. But why not? It doesn’t really have the resonance to me that it should. I think Martins should just not have Von Rothbart die. That way the lovers can’t be together because of Siegfried’s betrayal. But she still loves him, so that when she bourrees away from him, letting go of him little by little, her arms still reaching out toward him as she disappears into the wings, it just makes you want to bawl your eyes out the same way as the Giselle ending.

One other thing: Martins has some children dance in the beginning courtly scene, which I love. It’s very Balanchine to put the children in, and they were very sweet. And I could tell the people around me thought the same.

Oh and one final other thing: there’s no real dancing for Von Rothbart — it’s really just a character part. But I missed the seductive Marcelo making all the women swoon with his sexy jumps, and then tossing his Odile all about!

Anyway — sorry, I’m behind on blogging and have to blog about these things all together — but earlier in the week, I attended a daytime tribute to retiring Balanchine ballerina Darci Kistler (above photo from the front of the program). She danced the Preghiera passage from Mozartiana beautifully, with some children from School of American Ballet, then the White Swan pas de deux with Jared Angle. And then Kathryn Morgan danced the Sleeping Beauty wedding pas de deux with Tyler Angle, which was sheer perfection. They also showed some excerpts of interviews with Kistler from a 1989 documentary, Dancing For Mr. B, and there was a short panel discussion where Bob Craft from the NYCB Board interviewed her. Later, the two were joined by Peter Martins, Philip Neal (who seems very polite and well-mannered), and the hilarious Albert Evans, who you can tell is the type of guy who puts everyone at ease. He got up there and immediately started reminiscing about a blue sweater Darci’d wear to rehearsals all the time and how much he wanted it (she ended up saying he could have it!) and some rather amusing (in retrospect) goof-ups they had together, and she just really burst into genuine laughter.

Oh and at the beginning, Kathryn Morgan presented Kaitlyn Gilliland with the 2010 Janice Levin Award (Morgan was the 2009 recipient). Both gave little speeches, and Gilliland (who seems like a natural speaker) prefaced hers by pronouncing Kathryn’s recent Sleeping Beauty debut “historical,” which nearly brought tears to my eyes. Can’t think of a more apt description!

And finally, earlier last week, I saw the debut of a new ballet by corps member Adam Hendrickson. It was presented in a small downstairs auditorium at Carnegie Hall and was part of a program featuring newly discovered Prokofiev music performed by students and faculty of Yale’s School of Music. Hendrickson’s ballet was set to his Music For Athletic Exercises, and it was fast, flirty, and fun. It was performed by three dancers — Matthew Renko (who is really a stand-out dancer — I kept wondering why he wasn’t with a major ballet company, and then realized later in the week he’s a corps member at NYCB), Elysia Dawn, and Colby Damon and one pianist — Boris Berman — and Hendrickson’s original, clever choreography had elements of Ratmansky’s Concerto DSCH as well as Jerome Robbins. At one point, Dawn’s feet are moving so fast and furiously, and the pianist just keeps at it and won’t let up, and she kind of stops and shoots him a look. It reminded me of Robbins’ Suite of Dances — it was cute and the crowd loved the joke. This is the second work I’ve seen of Hendrickson’s and I found both to be engaging and memorable. I think he may have a real future as a choreographer. Anyway, here is Philip’s account of the evening, and here is an article on the music.

So, toward the end of last week I saw two more casts of Sleeping Beauty in New York City Ballet’s production. Above are the beautiful Kathryn Morgan as Aurora and Tyler Angle as her Prince Desire (Paul Kolnik is the photographer). Below are some photos of the other couple I saw, Tiler Peck (both she and Kathryn were making their Aurora debuts), with Gonzalo Garcia, albeit not from this ballet.

(in Four Bagatelles, photo by Paul Kolnik)

(and in the Christopher Wheeldon / Martha Wainwright collaboration over the summer, photo from NYTimes by Andrea Mohin; I like this photo because I think it shows each of their personalities well).

And then last week, I saw Ashley Bouder and Andrew Veyette.

I’ve been thinking about who I thought was best in what role but it’s actually really hard to do that. I honestly ended up liking everyone, though there were definite differences.

I do have a lot to say about Gonzalo Garcia though. I LOVED him as Prince Desire — he really melted me, he really completely stole the show that night and I feel like I’m not ever going to like anyone quite as well in that role now. I mean, you just have to see him in a classical ballet, as the romantic lead, and you realize why San Francisco audiences were so upset when he left SFB for NYCB a couple years ago. Some of those SFBallet fans were really devastated when he left. And I think it’s been such a puzzle to those fans that New Yorkers haven’t really fallen for him the same way. And I think it’s because he hasn’t had the chance to shine because NYCB is so Balanchine-heavy. He needs roles where he can act and become a character. He’s such the quintessential romantic prince.

You can really tell how differently he’s trained than the other NYCB dancers, who’ve nearly all come from SAB and been trained on Balanchine’s non-actable abstract ballets. I felt like with Gonzalo I was seeing someone from ABT — mainly Angel Corella (in terms of the body type, dramatic style and boyishly handsome face). The way he’d hold onto the music, draw it out while it crescendos, by for example in the vision scene holding out a finger to the princess and then leaning back, then looking out to the audience — not AT the audience but in the audience’s direction — to show how enthralled he is, how much he wants to catch her, all before then turning and running toward her. The other two — Tyler and Andrew — they didn’t do all that. They just kind of looked toward her standing more and more toward the tips of the toes, ready to run toward her when the music told them to. Gonzalo’s way was so much more Petipa and Tchaikovsky and Bolshoi and Romantic Russian and all that, and it might all seem overly melodramatic to audiences who aren’t used to that. But that’s what I’m used to with ABT — and that kind of stuff makes me swoon!– so that’s why I think I loved him so much. But I’m wondering what others who saw this cast thought?

And Gonzalo just knows what’s expected of him, as the prince. Later, when he went to do that crazy series of jetes, he was rested up and ready and he nailed them like I’ve never seen him nail anything. I’ve never seen his legs straighter, in perfect splits, and the whole way around the perimeter of the stage, without tiring. And it’s like he knew that was a very important part, and he had to do them perfectly because that’s just what the romantic hero does — that’s the way he shows his love for the princess, and that he’s worthy of her. The other two obviously took them seriously (because they’re crazy hard, you have to take them seriously), but it just was more of a difficult feat, instead of having the same meaning. You know what I mean? Like he looked out all across the stage wistfully, and then he just took off flying around it. It gave it a different meaning than just flying around.

It makes me wonder though if contemporary audiences understand that, or appreciate it. Or whether they prefer for the emotion to look more “natural”? I’m not saying Gonzalo was better than the other two, just different.

I wonder what Joaquin De Luz was like, since he’s not SAB trained either. Did anyone see him?

As far as partnerships, Kathryn and Tyler were my favorites. Tyler had a few flubs on some of his solo variations (but I still love him!), but he was always the perfect partner, he was always solid when supporting her. And the series of fish dives in the wedding pas de deux were some of the most breathtaking I’ve ever seen. Her legs were pointing completely up toward the ceiling! Magnificent! And the final hands-free fish dive was picture perfect.

I liked all of the Aurora interpretations, but they were different too. Kathryn was the most princess-like, the most regal, though that may just be the way she looks. She just kind of looks like royalty! Ashley and Tiler seemed more “real girlish”  – all smiles and sweetness and awe at the world and their cute suitors.

The rose adagios were all near perfect. (ABT’s Sarah Lane is still the queen of the balances to me — it seems like she could hold them for hours.) Kathryn had the most absolutely gorgeous extensions. Do I have to giggle every time Robert Fairchild comes out leading the cavalcade of suitors? I loved Craig Hall as the “African prince,” – I don’t know what exactly stood out about him but something did. And even though it wasn’t a dancing role, I loved Henry Seth as the King; he acted it really well. Chase Finlay was lovely as Gold in the wedding scene – -he’s a really beautiful dancer with exquisite lines. Everyone’s talking about him being the next romantic lead. I loved tiny Erica Pereira as the fairy of eloquence and Ana Sophia Scheller as the fairy of courage, thought Faye Arthurs and Adrian Danchig-Waring were brilliant as The White Cat and Puss in Boots, and Daniel Ulbricht is the quintessential gymnastic court jester.

And there’s NEVER been a better Carabosse than Georgina Pazcoguin! Nor has there ever been (or, perhaps, could there be) a better Lilac Fairy than Sara Mearns. I love how she arches her back so luxuriously and opens up her chest. And the rich, full-out port de bras. Such beautiful expansiveness, that, with her beatific face, makes her perfect for this angelic role. She reminds me of Veronika Part.

Okay, that’s all I can think of, for now!

This week begins the Swan Lakes. I’ve never seen Peter Martins’ version, so I’m really excited. In particular, I’ve heard wonderful things about Maria Kowroski as Odette and I’m psyched for Stephen Hanna’s debut as Prince Siegfried!

This past week, New York City Ballet began its two-week run of Sleeping Beauties. I saw the opening night performance, with Ashley Bouder (above with Damian Woetzel, in Paul Kolnik photo) in the lead. She danced opposite Andrew Veyette, as Prince Desire. Both did really, a near-perfect job (just because nothing’s ever completely perfect!). Really, I don’t know what more you could ask for, although I’m waiting to write my full review on the production until later this week, after I’ve seen two more casts: Kathryn Morgan as Aurora and Tyler Angle as PD (with Janie Taylor as the Lilac Fairy!), and then Tiler Peck and Gonzalo Garcia as the leads.

I love NYCB’s production — a lot more than ABT’s — and I can’t really figure out why. In NYCB’s there’s really never a dull moment — there’s no boring court dancing, just all the wondrous ballet, the very intricate and complicately awe-inducing variations for the various faeries (Sara Mearns was gorgeous as Lilac Fairy — in photo below by Paul Kolnik, as were Amanda Hankes, Lauren King, Rebecca Krohn, Erica Pereira, and especially Ana Sophia Scheller as Fairies of Tenderness, Vivacity, Generosity, Eloquence, and Courage respectively), the fun “wedding scene” with all the cute virtuosity-driven duets for the fairy tale characters (once again, loved Sean Suozzi last week — here as Puss in Boots, and Stephanie Zungre as his partner the White Cat; loved Tiler Peck and Daniel Ulbricht as Bluebird and Princess Florine, loved Henry Seth as the Wolf but not sure why they had a little girl dance Little Red Riding Hood…), the “jewels” starring Stephen Hanna , and of course the beatific Grand Wedding Pas De Deux between Bouder and Veyette.

I don’t know, there’s just never a dull moment: you go from the Rose Adagio with all the virtuosic balances for Aurora (and the handsome cavaliers), to the richly choreographed fairy variations (that seemed to me more Balanchine than Petipa), to the drama of Carabosse’s arrival with her creepy minions and the frightening spell she casts, to the sweet Vision scene, to the quick Awakening (nothing in this production is long and drawn out; each scene gets right to the point), to the Wedding with the entertaining guests, and ending with the beautiful pas de deux between Beauty and the Prince.

I can’t figure out what exactly is different between this version and the others I’ve seen before, but honestly, this hasn’t been one of my favorite story ballets. So I was just really floored by how captivating NYCB’s production was. I can’t wait to see a few more this week. NYCB is good at story ballets! If you’re in NY and you can make it sometime this week, do go!

Photo by Bela Szabo, of Gyor National Ballet’s Rite of Spring, from here.

Reviewed by Christopher Atamian.

Györ National Ballet (at The Joyce January 26-31)

From the land of Bartók and Kodály, strudel and palascinka, comes Hungary’s Györ National Ballet, a vibrant dance company that everyone should have the pleasure of seeing at least once during their next New York appearance.  It takes considerable originality and artistic vision to re-interpret Petrushka and Rite of Spring with the verve and sometimes breathtaking visual appeal that Györ brought to the Joyce on January 26.  The company was founded in 1979 by two graduates of the National Ballet Institute.  Led by Janós Kiss since 1991, it has since won accolades worldwide: all twelve members that performed here are talented, vibrant and passionate dancers with evident balletic training behind them.

The presentation at the Joyce, titled “A Stravinsky Evening” was dedicated to the twentieth anniversary of the fall of the Iron Curtain.  The original Petrushka ballet was of course choreographed by Mikhail Fokin but this version, credited to Dmitrij Simkin and James Sutherland presents a fresh look at the well-worn story.  Here Petrushka (Bálint Sebestyén) is transformed into a free thinker who resists communist indoctrination, while the sorcerer (Balázs Pátkai) is a party leader in uniform who tracks him down, interrogates and tortures him. Both Sebestyén and Pátkai dance their roles beautifully.  Pátkai is appropriately rigid and authoritarian (but sinuous and sinister as well) while Sebestyén is equally adept at performing different tempos and phrasings—at one point he dances torso nu to a particularly sensitive segment of Stravinsky’s music with rare, almost spellbinding sensuality, as if he were actually in a trance: his body quivers all over as he moves arms and legs into languorous serpentine positions. The other dancers are also attuned to soft almost ethereal body movements; as a whole they executed beautifully but their strength was surely the seemingly effortless synchronicity that they achieved with the Stravinsky score.  The piece ends as it begins with a fast-paced pop-inspired communist scout march—a lovely bookend to the Stravinsky. The dancers again perform as communist scouts, mainly running in place and repeating a few movements in synchronicity—illustrating with deft alacrity that complete oxymoron known as “happy totalitarianism.”

This Petrushka presents the type of work that European companies often still perform best: intelligent, classically-based work updated for contemporary audiences—based in literature or myth, the stories told seem fresh and relevant.  In the program notes, Simkin avers: “I present here, not dolls with human feelings…as in Fokin’s work, but humans who act like puppets in a society controlled by propaganda where misleading the masses and brainwashing controls the whole society.” Simkin and Sutherland introduce current themes and update ballet’s sometimes archaic fairy tale themes, while presenting innovative movement not slavishly hampered by traditional technique and point work.  The scenery and costumes, also by Dmitrij Simkin were arresting: a large shining red star hung over a stage; a large head of Lenin lay in the background. The piece sometimes lacked subtlety—Stravinsky is already domineering enough as it is without being hit over the head with an overt political message; and when the Lenin head was rolled around and literally knocked everyone to the ground, you sort of just sighed at the obviousness of it all. But that is small criticism surely when compared to its overall depth and beauty.

Attila Kun’s Rite of Spring was sheer delight.  Here the set changes to minimalist and ultra-modern: a white rectangle surrounded on the edges by a black border, all of it glinting like marble under the stage lights.  The eleven dancers of both sexes, all equally beautiful physically, wear only white—the men in long pants, bare-chested in cotton frocks, the women in culottes and asymmetrical tops that made them look as if they had just come down an Hervé Leger catwalk.  At one point the dancers sit down facing each other two-by-two to apply ceremonial paint, remaining stoic in light of what is about to take place. The clean lines and unencumbered choreography create the illusion that perhaps we are not about to witness something terrible.  And the lithe Lilla M. Horváth is simply astounding as “The Chosen One,” both as an actress and dancer, even as she futilely fights for her life and gasps her last breath. The other dancers—all assistants and too numerous here to mention—defy time and place, something almost Egyptian or ageless in their presentation as if they had walked off an episode of Stargate, noble in demeanor, sporting long limbs and almost extraterrestrial in bearing! As the piece comes to a close, the dancers have not only presented a pagan sacrifice, but also the idea of renewal and hope, much like modern Hungary emerged from communist rule, proud and independent.

I’ve been such a bad blogger (and bad friend) lately! Back in November, my friend Henning Rubsam, who founded, directs and choreographs for SenseDance, premiered his latest dance, Impending Visit, at the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Theater in midtown. I’d meant to write about it but lost track of time. So here are some pictures, all by JAN LA SALLE. Dancers are Erin Ginn, Heidi Green, Maria Phegan, Victor Gonzalez, Dartanion Reed, and Ramon Thielen.

It wasn’t the world premiere of the work, but the New York premiere. The world premiere took place in October at a festival — the Fiesta Iberoamericana de las Artes, in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico, at which Henning was honored for his longtime commitment to using contemporary music in his ballets. He collaborated on this piece with Puerto Rican composer Rafael Aponte-Ledee.

The music was very abstract, very modern and at times light and mellifluous, at times discordant with an air of mystery, which well suited the dance, a combination of ballet and modern with some Puerto Rican social dance — rumba basics, salsa, and some swing — thrown in. Dancers moved in pairs, trios and in ensemble. The partnering moved from sweet and flirty (the social duets), to more daring (the balletic), with complex lifts and balances. The stage was made up, as you can see above, to resemble an industrial landscape, like the action took place in the interior of some kind of skyscraper perhaps. Lighting was by Philip Trevino. I’m not sure what it all meant, since it was very abstract, but it made me think of the way cultures can initially collide but through mutual exploration can eventually harmonize and breed something new.

Also showing were several other of Henning’s dances – I think there were eleven in all! What I love about going to a SenseDance show is that there is such variety. He gets straight to the point, his dances are never too long, and he presents a variety — ballet, modern, jazzy. My favorites are still Caves and Amaranthine, both danced with his most stand-out dancers (imo): Maria Phegan and Dartonian Reed. Caves in particular reminds me a bit of Balanchine’s Prodigal Son — with the innocent young man and the seductive siren, except here it’s more like human / ethereal creature resembling a spider who veers from companionable and intriguing to potentially ensnaring. Phegan has limbs that just go on and on and her poses are always so striking. And Reed is the perfect foil / partner for her.

(photo from Treehugger).

Here is a video clip of a composite of the performed dances:

Last night at New York City Ballet was the world premiere of a new ballet by Alexey Miroschnichenko, The Lady with the Little Dog (photo above, of Sterling Hyltin and Andrew Veyette, by Paul Kolnik). The ballet is based on the short story by Anton Chekhov of the same name (which I haven’t read but now wish I had). Miroshnichenko made the ballet in honor of the 150th anniversary of Chekhov’s birth and he dedicated it to Maya Plisetskaya in honor of her 85th birthday.

I really liked the ballet — really enjoyed the whole evening. Though I didn’t know the story, The Lady with the Little Dog was very Chekhovian, very full of angst-ridden characters (danced by Hyltin and Veyette), along to a score by Rodion Shchedrin that went along well with the drama.

It began with Sterling Hyltin dressed in a gorgeous deep purple dress with a plush velvety top and romantic tutu, walking a little dog on its leash across stage. Veyette was in the back, bespectacled, and wearing a white suit, looking like a 19th Century Russian businessman. (The splendid costumes were by Tatiana Noginova). There were also several male dancers dressed in grey bodysuits writhing around onstage. I originally thought they were a kind of chorus that would echo or foretell the action of the “play” but then they had some very dog-like movements – holding their hands up, bent at the wrists, kind of like dog paws, lying on the ground and playfully kicking their feet in the air, rolling over. But the program called them “angels.” It soon became clear that their function was to control the events — get the lady and the gentleman to meet, sleep together, then tear them apart — perhaps one of them died? — then bring them in the end together again as they walked along a path toward heavenly light.

Anyway, back to the beginning: well, as Sterling walked that little dog across the stage (I’m not good with dog breeds, but he was small and fluffy, with straight shaggy hair), he kind of initially stole the show. He kept looking out at the audience, into the darkness, but he looked intrigued, not scared. Then, Sterling would lift her leg and he’d turn and look at her like she was a bit off her nut. Then a grey guy came up and wiggled around and the dog would take a step back, then try to go around him, but the leash preventing him from getting too far. It was too much. Finally, Sterling stopped, frozen in time, and a grey man took the leash and led the dog offstage. Right before he went into the wings, he took another inquisitive look out at the audience. There were several giggles. It was too cute and I was reminded of Melanie LaPatin once saying no performer ever wants to follow an act involving children or animals.

Anyway, fortunately the dog didn’t return (although I secretly kept wanting him to). It took a few seconds for the audience to calm down and re-focus, but eventually we did. They grey people set up what looked like a long rubber mat which separated Sterling and Andrew. Each principal danced separately, then with the grey men, then the grey men eventually brought them toward each other and they danced together. The only odd thing to me was the background set (along with that rubber mat; set designs were by Philipp Dontsov). The back wall looked very abstract, which seemed kind of out of place in a period drama, although maybe it was meant to universalize the emotion. It looked to me like the middle of an airplane, with slanted airplane-like windows lining the back wall. As the action unfolded, the windows got smaller and smaller until they eventually disappeared.

Anyway, in the second movement, Hyltin and Veyette danced this really gorgeous MacMillan-esque pas de deux with lots of beautiful sweeping overhead pashmina-esque lifts — which of course I’m always a sucker for! So that was my favorite part. Then, the grey men returned and helped the two principals out of their clothing, and they danced a rather beautiful sex scene in skin-toned underwear. I have to say, as I was watching I couldn’t help but think of a similar scene from Pascal Rioult’s Views of the Fleeting World, which was so slow and serpentine and tantalizing, yet beatific. This wasn’t the same; it was a little more frantic and angst-ridden, which I guess is more Chekhovian (I will have to the read that story).

Then, the grey people direct them to get back into their clothes, and soon we see Veyette doing a kind of mad dance, eventually running across the stage and disappearing into the wings, Hyltin running after him, but unable to catch him. Then she does a rather sorrowful solo.

Eventually Veyette returns, they dance together again. But this time it’s a more mature love, not as Romeo and Juliet balcony scene as the first. Eventually, they take off their clothes again, the mat is laid vertically across stage, running front the front of the stage to the back, and the two hold hands and walk together down the path, toward the back of the stage, toward a bright, golden light. The end. I wasn’t sure if Veyette died and they were coming together again in the afterlife, or if they just had a fight and this final scene represented them kind of going off into the sunset.

Of course Miroshnichenko came out for a bow during the curtain calls — and unbelievably, though the vast majority of the audience applauded, there were a few audible boos. It’s like some people were getting opera confused with the ballet. I mean, seriously, this wasn’t a new, iconoclastic production of Tosca; it was a brand new ballet…

Anyway, I liked it and would like to see it again.

The other two ballets of the night were Balanchine’s Agon, an abstract black and white leotard ballet set to Stravinsky’s unsettling score. The choreography was really brilliant, very original, and there were lots of pretzel-shapes in the duets (the main one danced by the hyper flexible Wendy Whelan, with Albert Evans), and it made me realize where Christopher Wheeldon gets his inspiration from

The evening ended with Cortege Hongrois, basically Balanchine’s wonderful one-act version of Raymonda, which I’ve been going on about after seeing ABT II perform part of it at the Guggenheim recently. Sean Suozzi danced what I’m now calling the Irlan Silva part — the virile, folksy Hungarian lead — along with Rebecca Krohn. I haven’t noticed Suozzi much before this season, but he is really standing out to me. He danced the lead in this, one of the duets in Agon, and he did a lot of dancing in Who Cares? last week. He is really good! And Maria Kowroski and Jonathan Stafford danced the balletic leads and made me badly want to see “Diamonds” again.

New York City Ballet opened their Winter 2010 season last week with rotating performances of Balanchine’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, and a two-ballet program of his Who Cares?, set to Gershwin music, and Peter Martins’ Naive and Sentimental Music.

I LOVED Who Cares?! (photos above — of Robert Fairchild and Sterling Hyltin, and of the whole cast — by Paul Kolnik.) I’d only ever seen the pas de deux before and didn’t even realize the whole was comprised of a whole slew of Gershwin songs, some danced by the ensemble, some by only the women, others by only the men, with solos and pas de deux mixed in. I particularly loved Tiler Peck’s duet with Robbie Fairchild in The Man I Love. She has such a clean, beautiful line and she’s so expressive and so engaging. She can make a story out of anything. And of course Fairchild is always the perfect romantic male lead Crowd went wild over his and Ana Sophia Scheller’s duet to Embraceable You as well as Scheller’s My One and Only solo. Such a fun ballet — I’m going back for more this week.

Also shown in that program was Martins’s new Naive and Sentimental Music, set to John Adams’ score of the same name. I wrote about that ballet when it premiered here and posted pics of it here. Seeing it again evoked a bit of Balanchine’s Jewels, particularly the lovely lyrical white section (my favorite) and the sexy red.

One little thing I have to say: this ballet was created on and is danced only by principals but Adrian Danchig-Waring danced in last week’s production as well, and he is still a soloist (I think he may have been replacing Amar Ramasar, who must be injured because he was replaced a few times over the week…) Anyway, I realize NYCB is top heavy at the moment, but I think Danchig-Waring definitely needs to be next in line for a promotion!

And earlier in the week I saw the best EVER cast of  Midsummer Night’s Dream. I finally got to see my Gonzalo Garcia as Oberon (photo above by Paul Kolnik, of Garcia as Oberon and Darci Kistler as Titania). I’d missed him in this role at the end of last season. He did very well – -not only with the dancing — particularly that crazy fast scherzo — but also, and less expected for me, with the acting. I thought he’d be a sweet, glowingly endearing Oberon, but, no, he was a pissy, demanding fairy king — just as much as Andrew Veyette last season (cutely pissy and demanding though!) He wanted Titania’s servant boy and he wasn’t letting her say no to him. Only thing regarding the dancing — his legs don’t seem to be as flexible as they once were. It seems like he may have injured an adductor muscle, or else he’s built up so much thigh muscle or something — but his legs when he jumps are not making perfect splits. But his upper body is so fluid and graceful and he exudes such charm that he’s still the perfect lyrical male dancer nonetheless.

Titania was the beautiful Sara Mearns (headshot by Paul Kolnik — a new headshot for her, right?)– and she was the best Titania I’ve personally seen. Oh she’s such a beautiful dancer! She throws herself so fully into every move she makes. If Garcia is the ideal male lyrical dancer she is the ideal female – they were so perfect together.

And I’m so glad Stephen Hanna is back at NYCB (still annoyed with the Billy Elliot directors for not making good enough use of him on Broadway). He was Titania’s cavalier and his pas de deux with Mearns was the best Titania / Cavalier pdd I’ve ever seen. He’s so big and strong — which certainly amps up the romance factor — and his numerous tour jetes just have so much power. Honestly I often get bored during that pdd and just want Oberon to return, but not with Hanna’s cavalier!

And new to the cast of human characters who get their hearts messed with by a mischievous Puck (Troy Schumacher) was Janie Taylor, as Helena. She is another one who excels at story dances, always delving into a character and making clear to the audience what’s going on in her mind. She’s pathetically, endearingly funny from the time she enters the stage all forlorn over Demetrius, to her being completely bewildered by Lysander’s sudden attraction to her, to her searching the forest madly for Demetrius, to her cat-fights with Hermia, etc. She really brought out the humor.

In the section where I was sitting, there were at least three large groups of people you could tell had never seen the ballet before — nor likely the play; they didn’t seem familiar with the story. But they were laughing hysterically throughout the whole thing and were really awed by the dancing, and by some of the tricks (like Puck’s being pulled up to the ceiling via harness at the end). That’s when you can tell with a story ballet that the cast really brought it to life, when the newcomers are enthralled.

Reviewed by Christopher Atamian

The four pieces presented on January 11 by Movement Research at the Judson Church, all possessed a visible seriousness of purpose and integrity, though some moved slower and less successfully than others.

The highlight of the night was undoubtedly Daria Fain and Chun-Chen Chang dancing to Stockhausen’s Stimmung.

Continue reading ‘MOVEMENT RESEARCH AT THE JUDSON CHURCH’

Tuesday night, the Pacific Northwest Ballet opened its 5-day run at the Joyce. This was my first time seeing this company, and it has a reputation as one of the most prestigious in the U.S. Helmed by Peter Boal, a former dancer with New York City Ballet, the company is already familiar to many NYCB fans, but not yet to me.

I really wish they could have brought the whole company and danced at City Center, a more suitable stage for ballet. The Joyce is small and known for modern dance and so they could only bring a small portion of the company. And, the small stage limited their choice of choreography and prevented the dancers from dancing full-out. So I felt it lacked a certain balletic grandeur, although I still greatly enjoyed the evening.

For one thing, I was thrilled to finally be able to see Brazilian ballerina Carla Korbes dance, after being introduced to her on the Winger. She had a part in just about every ballet and she did not disappoint — she has great charisma and dances with great dramatic intention.

I was also happy to be able to see Seth Orza again (Everyone who’s read this blog for a while knows how downright devastated I was when he left NYCB…) He’s so sharp and precise, and so strong — I think he definitely needs to be promoted to principal (he’s now a soloist, as he was when he left NYCB).

So, there were four pieces on the program: Opus 111 by Twyla Tharp, Fur Alina by Edwaard Liang, Mopey by Marco Goecke (my favorite, and pictured above, James Moore dancing), and 3 Movements by Benjamin Millepied.

I’ll start with my favorite — Mopey, by Goecke, danced very intensely by Moore.

I’d always been curious about this young German choreographer ever since this little exchange (the “Evan M.” being Evan McKie, a principal with Stuttgart Ballet).

Anyway, Mopey is hard to describe — basically just a solo for a man who by turns twists and contorts his body into awkward shapes, bounces up and down, makes muscle-man poses, waves his arms about gracefully, appears to be possessed and struggling to control his limbs — his fingers bent and curved down somewhat grotesquely, almost monster-like. It was short but really engrossing.   Here’s a YouTube clip of a dancer from Stuttgart dancing an excerpt from the piece. Unlike in the clip, which is danced only to one piece of music, Moore danced first to silence, then to Bach, then to pop punk by The Cramps.

I also liked Millepied’s 3 Movements, pictured below (dancers are James Moore and Lucien Postlewaite).

All photos by Angela Sterling, by the way.

It was abstract but I thought I detected a bit of a men versus women showdown (I think this is a recurring theme of his — at least in his recent works). It was set to rather unsettling Steve Reich music and filled with original movement, the way the groups of men and women would go at each other at times, almost like they were from separate clans. But the costumes were contemporary: almost casual work attire for the men and little flirty dresses for the women. Costumes were designed by Millepied’s girlfriend, Isabella Boylston, corps dancer at ABT.

I also liked Fur Alina by Liang. It was a man woman pas de deux danced by Carla Korbes and Karel Cruz and it seemed to be the somber story of two lovers slowly deciding to part. It was set to Arvo Part (who it seems, understandably, is becoming the most used composer for contemporary ballet these days — at least for these despairing pas de deux).

Oddly, the Tharp was my least favorite (below: dancers in front are Korbes and Batkhurel Bold).

I’ve never seen Opus 111 before and this one (set to Brahms) didn’t seem to have any of Tharp’s signature comical character roles or her theme of ballet versus other kind of dance (fill in the blank: American social –  like in Deuce Coupe, Scottish folk, hip hoppy aerobics –  like in Upper Room) or her crazy, almost death-defying lifts. It was pretty and lyrical and the dancers lightly flew around the stage, at times coupling off. But sweet as it was, it just seemed to lack something. Might have been the small stage though and they just couldn’t dance it full-out?… Sir Alastair saw something more in it though.

I hope the company comes to NY again — to City Center.

Hi you guys. Sorry I’ve been so bad about posting lately. This book –argh! Took me a ridiculously long time to figure out my Kindle conversion! If I wasn’t so computer dyslexic…. Anyway, Kindle version should be up soon on Amazon. Will post when it is.

I have a few blog posts to write — about Alvin Ailey and about Rasta Thomas’s Rock the Ballet which, okay, I admit — I liked!!! — despite (or perhaps of) Roslyn’s almost hilariously scathing review! I liked it, but can definitely see how others wouldn’t.

And Alvin Ailey — they’re in the midst of their City Center season (which ends January 3rd). I’ve loved most of their season premieres — there are several — namely Hymn and Divining by Judith Jamison, and Dancing Spirit by Ronald K. Brown (photo above of Matthew Rushing in Dancing Spirit, photo by Paul Kolnik). Hymn is a really breathtaking tribute to Alvin Ailey — the man himself. It was made in 1993 right after he passed away. It’s with spoken word by Anna Deavere Smith, based on her interviews with Jamison and the company dancers from that time, and on Ailey’s words themselves; choreography is by Jamison. And, Divining and Dancing Spirit are both part African, part ballet / modern. Dancing Spirit starts slowly, then builds to a really beautiful crescendo. Audience went nuts with applause after it premiered, and justifiably so! Definitely do try to go see it before the season ends.

The “20 years” tribute to Jamison’s time with the company is also a great program. Exposes you to excerpts of many of the ballets she commissioned over the years, which I now want badly to see.

Oh, interesting tidbit: one of my friends told me she sat next to SYTYCD’s Tyce Diorio at one of the Ailey perfs, and he highly recommended to her Hymn and Divining. So, see, I know what I’m talking about

I also need to blog about Nine, the film, which I saw yesterday. Thought it was okay, not as good as I was expecting. The musical numbers were excellent — especially those led by Kate Hudson, Judi Dench, and Fergie. But the story line is rather boring and slow-moving. And I hate to say this but this is the first thing I haven’t loved Daniel Day Lewis in. He just didn’t become the character to me, like he normally does; just couldn’t inhabit this role. Weird because his Unbearable Lightness of Being character had many of the same flaws, and he was so much more believable as Tomasz than he was here as Guido. Anyone else seen it?

My website (and, thus, this blog) is going to be up and down a bit over the next couple days because I’m having some of the pages re-done. But I will resume blogging very soon. In the meantime, get thee to Alvin Ailey!

Oh, and happy holidays

Alvin Ailey audiences are always so fun! Last night was their “Target night” (tickets were severely discounted, sponsored by Target), and these kinds of audiences are the best — people screaming and cheering throughout; yelling “yeah” and “go girl!”, unable to help themselves from taking pictures — with the flash (!), and this one guy kept yelling out “Praise the Lord” during Revelations.

I have no time to write — am off to Art Basel for the weekend — but it was an excellent night. In addition to the always moving Revelations (I will never tire of seeing that), they’ve done something to Bigonzetti’s Festa Barocca — it’s so much better now; they captured the humor this time, and they’ve really amped up the passion / sensuality / struggle in those pas de deux. The audience went wild for it, including myself.

And Judith Jamison’s Divining was so magnificent. It’s a beautiful combination of ballet and African and the music is fascinating. She made it in the 80s but they’ve restaged it. Don’t miss it!

ABT may have the world’s top ballet dancers, but this company has the best all-around dancers who can do just about anything and look like the best in the world at it. And does Antonio Douthit have a skeleton? That man’s body moves in ways I’ve just never seen a body move before!

Go see them — they’re at City Center through the very beginning of January.

More when I get back (and the interviews with Bell and Tayeh as well). Now off to Miami!

Photo above of cast in Jamison’s Divining, by Nan Melville.

All photos by Monique Carboni.

If you’re in NY or are coming here at all for the holidays, definitely do not miss FELA! It’s honestly one of the best musicals — if not the best — I’ve ever seen (and I don’t often like musicals!)

It’s a very “real” musical in that it takes place in a night-club in Lagos, Nigeria — called The Shrine — founded by  real-life Nigerian composer, musician, founder of Afrobeat, and human rights activist Fela Kuti (1938-1997). It’s the late 1970s and he and his dancers (mostly female) perform their unique — and fascinating — blend of what seems to me traditional African, Reggae, and funk, and you’re part of the night-club audience!

Through the songs — most of them are actual music by Kuti — Kuti tells his story, and that of his mother, Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti, who was killed by the police just months earlier, when they raided Kuti’s compound. Funmilayo was a feminist and human rights activist who was vocal in her opposition to colonialism, and to the corrupt government, and her death, along with the attack on Kuti’s compound, were politically-motivated.

It’s hard to understand the exact political problems in Kuti’s Nigeria — I’d think it would be near impossible to explain something that complicated in a show like this — but suffice it to say the government is corrupt, there’s no accountability of government officials, the police force / Army is murderous, Nigerian citizens are suffering, and Kuti is speaking out against it all through his songs.

The story-line moves back and forth in time, much of it devoted to Kuti’s memory of Funmilayo, played brilliantly by Lillias White (in photo above).

The show is expertly choreographed and directed by Bill T. Jones (photo above by Joseph Moran), who, I feel, does his best work on Broadway. The dancing is so incredibly stunning. I have never seen African dance done this well. Jones must have looked long and hard for those miraculous performers! The play obviously provides a great history lesson, but, seriously, you can go for the dancing alone and be completely blown away.

But, as I said, you’re made to feel you’re part of the Shrine audience — and Kuti (played, on my night, excellently by Sahr Ngaujah — Kevin Mambo alternates with him in the role) will ask everyone to stand up and clap, dance (at your seat!), sing, repeat words after him — it’s a lot of fun. At one point, they re-enact the police breaking into the compound, kidnapping several of the dancers, torturing them, beating Kuti, and throwing Funmilayo out of a top-floor window, killing her. But when the police storm the place, the dancers and cast -members run about the theater, through the aisles, you hear screams, shots. You feel like you’re one of them, and it’s really actually quite frightening for a split second. I actually wished they’ve have done a bit more of that — had not just the compound’s inhabitants running around screaming, but the police chasing them, waving batons, threatening everyone, including you, the “foreigner.” (My friend who I saw the show with, a black man, thought I was a bit off my nut wanting this — this rather authentic re-enaction of police brutality…)

Anyway, brilliant brilliant show — a definite must-see! I also loved Saycon Sengbloh as a female friend, whom Kuti meets during his travels. She mainly sings, and, like White, she’s got a really beautiful, powerful voice.

One last thing: at the end, the dancers and singers all emerge from the wings and carry through the aisles and out onto the stage small tombstones. It’s really cool — there are cameras all about filming live and the scene is supposed to be a political demonstration. Because of the cameras, even though the audience is all seated, everyone still kind of looks like they’re part of the demonstration. Very cool effect. Anyway, Kuti carries a tombstone bearing his mother’s name; the others’ bear words like peace, dignity, etc. At the end, they stack all tombstones atop one another onto a pile in the middle. I noticed as we were putting on our coats to leave that the one in the middle said “I am Sean Bell.” I thought that was interesting because obviously Sean Bell is a contemporary American reference and this took place in Nigeria decades ago. And, the Nigerian police stormed Kuti’s compound and attacked him and his followers for their outspoken political beliefs, whereas Bell was shot and killed by police during a failed prostitution bust because they thought — notoriously wrongly of course — that his friend was reaching toward his waistband to retrieve a gun. One outlash of violence seems so much more politically-motivated than the other. But then maybe the Bell case is political just in the fact that the police had targeted a club in a black part of town in the first place and were looking for criminal activity. Maybe both the Kuti and Bell communities were equally “under siege” in a way. I don’t know … racism in the U.S. these days takes such complicated forms because there are just layers upon layers upon layers of historical oppression.

Photo by Paul Kolnik, copied from NYCB website.

Okay, after blabbering on about the audience Friday night and new post-ballet restaurants, on to the actual performance.

It was magical, as always. Megan Fairchild and Joaquin De Luz were charming as the leads (the Sugarplum Fairy and her cavalier) — above headshots by Paul Kolnik, from NYCB website. I always love watching these two — Megan’s so sweet and she always seems to have this “cat who just swallowed the canary” smile on her face. She’s the ideal ballerina for this role. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t seen City Ballet in a while now, but Joaquin, who was injured at the end of last season, seems to be jumping higher and spinning far faster than ever before. As always, he was the perfect manly cavalier.

Beautiful Sara Mearns danced the other main role — Dewdrop. (Headshot by Paul Kolnik)

I wonder if something was done to the stage floor during renovations because Ashley Bouder had slipped on opening night in the new Martins ballet, and Mearns slipped twice on Friday night. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mearns fall and Bouder was just kind of standing when she fell, so it made me wonder if something’s slippery. Anyway, Sara seemed a bit shaken at first, but she soon recovered and danced with her typical beautiful fluidity and lush, expansive lines.

The little girls are so cute — you can hear all the ooohs and aaaahs when Dewdrop and her ladies in pink fill the stage. Below, Megan Fairchild in that role, photo by Paul Kolnik, taken from Explore Dance.

Other highlights were the magical-seeming Christmas tree that in little Marie’s dreams rises up from the floor and shoots straight through the ceiling, Sean Suozzi as Candy Cane — the incredible things he did with that hoop! — and, even though the Chinese stereotypes bother me in the Tea section, high jumper Daniel Ulbricht did expectedly well as the lead there, although I thought I remembered that dance being longer? And of course Justin Peck was a lot o fun as Mother Ginger, the role many of us most remember from seeing the ballet during childhood.

Balanchine’s version of the Christmas classic is a little shorter with a more children-heavy cast than most, making it the ideal holiday treat for families. It runs through January 3rd.

Reviewed by Christopher Atamian

The actress Lee Scher and her partner-choreographer Saar Harari belong to a generation of Israeli choreographers who have all been influenced to a greater or lesser degree by the immensely talented Ohad Naharin and his “Gaga” dance technique.  While I quite like Batsheva and Naharin, many of the choreographers that have followed in his wake, including Inbal Pinto and Lee Saar, have left me indifferent at best.  In Prima, four performers Jye-Hwei Lin, Hsin-Yi Hsiang, Hyerin Lee, and Candice Schnurr-all quite graceful and talented-dance around the stage, gesticulate, crawl and otherwise shake legs, arms and booties for the better part of forty-five minutes to a mix by d.j. filastine, Latino club music, and a fado or Arabic-inspired Spanish fusion of wailing and techno.  Sometimes they also crawl around in complete silence.

The highlight of the piece comes every so often when one of the dancers yells out her name, introducing herself to a somewhat weary audience.  At times the rather stock movement seemed influenced by break, rave, krump and even pole dancing, and at others it looked simply like random movement. I will not attempt to deduce the theoretical hermeneutics that I imagine may underlie this rather hermetic, uninspired choreography-what it either signified or meant is beyond me; on an aesthetic level it was rather bland as well.  Part of a critic’s job of course is to evaluate how close a choreographer or artist on comes to achieving his or her (stated) goals-in this context Lee Saar’s Prima was, I suppose, more or less successful.  But if a performance falls flat both theoretically and aesthetically then what, one wonders, is the viewer meant to take away from it?

Seen on November 22nd.

Photo taken from Broadway World.

New York City Ballet officially opened its 2009-10 winter season last night, with a performance and black tie gala dinner. The performance included Alexei Ratmansky’s Concerto DSCH (above photo of that ballet — dancers are Ana Sophia Scheller, Gonzalo Garcia, and Joaquin De Luz — by Paul Kolnik, taken from NYTimes), stars of the Paris Opera Ballet Aurelie Dupont and Mathias Heymann dancing the central pas de deux from Balanchine’s “Rubies,”

(photo taken from Kulturkompasset; Dupont is center, Heymann is holding the hand of another dancer).

And then the evening finished off with the world premiere of artistic director Peter Martins’ Naive and Sentimental Music, set to John Adams’ (brilliant) score of the same name (I’ll post photos when I receive them).

But first, there was a short film of the reconstruction of the inside of the Koch Theater (still can’t help but think of it as the State Theater…) while the orchestra played Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty overture (as it turned out, the perfect music to highlight the comically sped-up but ultimately awe-inducingly huge renovation process). Highlights of the renovated theater are — most importantly and coolly — the orchestra pit with a floor that can rise to stage-level (! — and this is how the orchestra played the overture), and two aisles now carved into the orchestra seating section. (Before, orchestra section had no aisles — so, though this is how Balanchine wanted it, apart from being extremely hard getting to a middle seat, it was a fire hazard).

Anyway, after the mandatory thank-you speeches by Peter Martins and David Koch (who funded the renovation), came the  Ratmansky. The fun frolicking threesome in blue (top photo) were danced by Joaquin De Luz, Gonzalo Garcia and Ashley Bouder (all three brilliantly on, Bouder thankfully back from an injury), and the adagio couple in green were Benjamin Millepied and Wendy Whelan (photo below). I think this was danced better than I’ve ever seen it done before — it could have been because I was so excited to see Bouder return, or because the dancers are all beginning-of-season fresh… but this is by far Ratmansky’s best, imo — it’s got the most complex structure and original movement.

(photo by Paul Kolnik, taken from Danza Ballet)

Next were the POB couple, who danced “Rubies” brilliantly — not only with precision and clarity but with great exuberance as well. One thing I meant to say earlier about La Danse (the Wiseman film about the POB) and forgot, was that the POB dancers are all so trained to make meaning out of every little thing they do — every step, every gesture, no matter how small. You have to have some kind of thought in your mind whatever you do. (This is not what Balanchine taught his dancers; he taught them simply to do his steps and those would contain everything the audience needed to know.) I feel that this allows POB dancers to bring a certain passion and humanity to all of the works they do — I noticed that from performance footage from that film as well as from last night.

And third came the highlight — for me anyway — of the night: the new Peter Martins’ ballet. The John Adams music was absolutely gorgeous — rich, many-layered, complex, intense, varied and structured into many sections — some lighter, many heavier, evocative, etc. etc. Beautiful! Oftentimes music like that overpowers the dancing, but not here.

In a short film shown before the dance (methinks Martins is taking after Wheeldon here with these little introductory films), Adams says the title refers to the difference between musicians whose music was fresh and original (the “naive” composers — like Mozart, he says) and those whose music was meant to speak to the past, to convey a sense of history, music that kind of carried the weight of the world on its shoulders so to speak (the “sentimental” — which he considers Beethoven). You could really see that in the music — some of it lighter, much of it weightier. Martins said in the film he tried to evoke that visually through dance, and I think he did so successfully — there’s a lighter, adagio section with dancers dressed in pristine white, another light but fast section with dancers in red, and then the more intense, almost severe sections with dancers in blues and deep greens and black.

Though most sections are danced in ensemble, Martins created the ballet for the principals only. This created an interesting dynamic, because, except for the middle section with the three pairs of dancers in white, almost all roles had equal weight — and yet practically all of the dancers stood out. It was an overload of star power!

And, though some sections seemed a slight bit underrehearsed (or maybe it was just that the footwork was so difficult and fast), everyone shone since Martins highlighted each dancer’s strengths: Maria Kowroski and Sara Mearns as lyrical women in white, Sterling Hyltin and Teresa Reichlin as kind of sharp-edged, sassy women in fiery red, Andrew Veyette and Daniel Ulbrich at the high-jumping bravura guys in black, there were some jazzy moves for Amar Ramasar, etc. etc.

Oh and I just love Tyler Angle He partnered Yvonne Borree and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so at ease and so fluid! She looked really beautiful. Nice also to see Stephen Hanna back from Billy Elliot! He partnered Darci Kistler in the white section.

It’s a rather long ballet but I was thoroughly engrossed and can’t wait to see it again. I hope they keep it in the rep.

Okay, that was the gala. Now onto the Nuts. Regular season begins in January.

I am extremely behind on reviews but here are a couple of pictures (by Erin Baiano) of the cast of Christopher Wheeldon’s Rhapsody Fantasie, which the choreographer premiered with his company, Morphoses, in October. I can’t write a full review but I guess it’s interesting to see what lingers in the mind. I remember a variety of movement — from neo-classical ballet to more contemporary with some ballroom thrown in — I remember some swing-y moves and even some salsa basics! I remember interesting ensemble work — with dancers at times breaking into pairs for partner dancing, at times the men dancing together, performing various complicated lifts, which I found rather mesmerizing. And I remember Wheeldon’s signature modern ballet pas de deux with the complicated “pretzel shape” lifts (as in the top photo, of NYCB’s Wendy Whelan and Australian dancer Andrew Crawford). Besides Whelan and Crawford I found Drew Jacoby and Rubinald Pronk to be the most compelling pair, dancing their series of twisted shape after twisted shape with passion and psychological intention.

Opening Morphoses program 2 was Continuum, a Wheeldon ballet from several years ago (photo above, also by Erin Baiano). This was a very abstract work set to sharp, at times tense Ligetti music with brilliant lighting that made the dancers appear ghostly, as if their shadows, silhouetted on the back wall, were doing the dancing.

I love Christopher Wheeldon, who’s always trying to give audiences insight into the dance-making process. At the beginning of this program, he spoke a bit about the dances, and, regarding Continuum, he told us all to look out for a part where, as he was making that dance, he became mesmerized by a neighbor’s cat and dog. It was only all too obvious which pas de deux this was, and everyone laughed as the two dancers kind of crouched around each other getting ready for a playful (or maybe not so playful) attack. I don’t think the audience would have thought anything of it if he hadn’t pointed that out. Now if he can give us insight on how the whole thing comes together!…

Reviewed by Christopher Atamian

I caught Meg Stuart/Damaged Goods for the first time on November 8th at the Baryshnikov Arts Center. Auf Den Tisch is more a collaborative piece than Stuart’s choreography per se: a huge room is filled with tables lined up against each other with the audience sitting around it-critics, fellow artists, the general public and an occasional straggler or two judging from their reactions.  The performers: Trajal Harrell, Keith Hennessey, Janez Jansa, Jean-Paul Lespagnard, Jan Maertens, Yvonne Meier, Anja Müller, Vania Rovisco, Hahn Rowe, George Emilio Sanchez, Stuart and David Thomson are a diverse, talented lot. It would be impossible to describe the action, as these twelve artists performed just about every possible type of improvisation imaginable in a nod to Grand Union and other experimental groups from the past.  Jansa stood on a balcony looking out at the audience complaining in a Croatian accent that no one was risqué enough today to get naked in public as Richard Schechner did in the 60’s-then he proceeded to get naked and climb down among the hoi polloi: my older French colleague was unimpressed, noting with distaste that he had dirty feet. I thought he looked fine naked. The immer intellectual, immer thinking Harrell was alternately baffling as he read Rancière aloud (who could process the French philosopher at such break-neck speed?), fascinating as he fielded questions about forgiveness and charming as he zipped around the table in a bumble bee outfit.  By now, you must get an idea of what the performance was like…Parts of Auf den Tisch were also terribly slow.  Stuart officially “curated” this project-with a bit of nipping and tucking, it could have been much shorter and more enjoyable-not that pleasure was at the top of anyone’s agenda…Oh yes, as usual Yvonne Meier was her dry, hilarious self.

Photo taken from the Performa 2009 website.

Reviewed by Christopher Atamian

Miro Magloire’s ballets are like exquisite little jeweled music boxes-each one opens up simple, precious and lovingly crafted.   Some are prettier than others and a few seem perhaps a touch unfinished, but each one is charming in its own way. Magloire’s company-New Chamber Ballet-presents its work at the intimate City Center Studios: it’s not the most elegant setting and Magloire must occasionally compete with some heavy-footed colleague stomping on his head on the floor above, but overall the setting works.  It’s also an intelligent model to adopt in this depressed economy, a great way to keep low overhead and still present four or fives times a year. Magloire, a former musician, is also an exponent of live music: it’s a delightful two-in-one presentation and his usual muse on piano, the lovely Melody Fader, is a gifted, nimble artist and a wonderfully quirky personality. On Sunday November 8, Magloire presented two solos: Sonatine, set to music by the same name by the late Karlheinz Stockhausen (a mentor of sorts to the choreographer) danced by Madeline Deavenport and brilliantly played by Fader and Erik Carlson-a veritable prodigy on violin.  Moments was danced with equal bravura by Lauren O’Toole to Salvatore Sciarrino’s Caprices No. 2 and 6 for violin.  Pas de…is an interesting experiment, a riff on the traditional pas de trois, with Madeline Deavenport, Emery LeCrone and Victoria North taking turns dancing alone and in twos and threes.  What a treat it was to finally hear a piece set to Magloire’s own music-Two Pieces for Piano-a spare, modernist composition.  But it was Silk, set to Giuseppe Tartini’s simply gorgeous Sonata No. 7 per Violino Solo that stole the evening-enchanting, vigorous music that LeCrone, Vanessa Woods and Lauren Toole easily matched in terms of bravura and execution.  Kudos as well to Candice Thompson for her simple, sexy, elegant costumes.

Photos by Kristen Lodoen Linder: above of Madeline Deavenport; below of Erik Carlson and Lauren Toole in Moments.

Last week, my friend — the illustrious Taylor Gordon! — invited me to watch her dance in the Radio City Christmas Spectacular. (Taylor, trained in classical ballet, is not a Rockette but a seasonal dancer in the show.) As last year, the show is a lot of fun, very Christmassy, very geared toward the tourist crowd and to children, with a somewhat corny story-line (younger boy strives to and eventually convinces older, more skeptical boy of Santa’s existence). But the dancing and the costumes and the sets are tremendous and are the reason you really go (if you’re an adult, that is ).

The Rockettes in particular are wondrous. Talk about astoundingly perfect synchronicity…

The soldier scene is my favorite. They march, they step, they turn in formation in almost mind-boggling unison, and then they fall, one by one, s-l-o-w-l-y, ever so slowly, one after and onto the other, in, again, mind-bogglingly perfect timing.

And now a few pictures of Taylor! She’s in the middle, in the coolly colorful tights.

Pink scarf, green bag, cool tights. So proud of her … again!

As a Santa — I’ve no idea which one.

And as a tutu-clad bear.

And a few more of the Rockettes.

Kick line!

Finale.

Taylor’s also a writer. Visit her blog for her accounts of what it’s like to be in the show.

And here is our friend Michael’s write-up of the evening.

(left to right: Ashley Bouder, Antonio Carmena, Russell Janzen)

All photos of Ashley Bouder, Antonio Carmena and Russell Janzen by Matthew Murphy.

Review by Michael Northrop

Avi Scher & Dancers debuted the dynamic new piece “Touch” at the 2009 Contemporary Dance Festival at Manhattan Movement & Arts Center Saturday. The music, Aphex Twin’s “Blue Calx” performed by Alarm Will Sound, fit right in on a mixed bill that ranged from quieter balletic moments from the host company, Thang Dao Dance, to some entertaining, Pilobol-esque body-stacking from Phoenix Project Dance Theater.

That was it for fitting in, though. Everything else about “Touch” stood out, starting with the dancers. New York City Ballet corps member Russell Janzen, soloist Antonio Carmena, and principal Ashley Bouder were tremendous, and the choreography made the most of the trio’s athleticism. This was not a timid exploration of the stage. Whenever there was a question (a half step, a reach), the answer was yes (continue, embrace).

Janzen and Carmena came out shirtless in bike shorts. Aesthetically, this highlighted the physicality of the piece, which included some exceptional lifts. (Psychologically, it just made every guy in the audience feel like a toneless dumpazoid—or perhaps I project? In either case, it was a big hit with the row of teen girls behind me.)

Bouder, dressed in black, was marvelous. She reminded me of that great line, that great scene, from Geoffrey Rush’s Oscar-winning 1996 movie Shine: “Boldness of attack.” In the movie, Rush, as a brilliant pianist, has to be prodded to it. On Saturday, Bouder was committed to it from the start. Her pointework was precise but bristling with power.

Anyone who saw Scher’s work at the City Center Studios in June or the Ailey Citigroup Theater in September knows that he has a real flair for physical, crowd-pleasing pieces set to contemporary music. This fierce, fresh piece manages to both fit right in with that and, again, stand out.

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.

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.

(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.

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.]

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!

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.

…after the Fall For Dance finale in the FFD lounge.

Top photo from the Trocks’ website; bottom photo (Grant is in back) by Sascha Vaughn, courtesy of City Center.

I was actually pretty proud of myself for recognizing him without his makeup on! After seeing them perform in the festival last weekend — they were my favorites from Program 3 — I did some research, particularly on Grant / aka Katerina Bychkova and found this interesting article, which happened to contain the only photo I could find of the guys not in costume (scroll down, on the right side); it wasn’t hard to figure out which one was him.

Anyway I was with my friends Michael and Taylor in the FFD lounge and, when I noticed him walking around I pointed him out to them. Michael initially wouldn’t believe me that he was the “big guy” — it’s really crazy how dancers DO always look so much smaller in person!! — but I was pretty sure. So of course outgoing as he is, Michael was soon off to confirm whether I was correct! After he did so, he made me and Taylor (both of us very very shy) go over and talk to him and some of the company people at his table.

And I’m happy we did. Mr. Grant was sooo nice! I love it when favorite dancers are all warm and fuzzy He’s the type of guy you feel like you could talk to forever.

Anyway, I liked all of the dancers — all of whom have superb classical technique and of course immense acting skills — but because Grant is the largest and had a main role, he stood out, and his body is naturally the most subversive for this kind of gender parody. At the festival, they performed Go For Barocco, one of the troupe’s earliest ballets, from 1974, a light spoof of several Balanchine ballets, including Concerto Barocco, after which the ballet is named. Here are some clips of it (which Grant isn’t in; he’s too new to the company):

I love their intentional humor — the way they present pretty, innocent ballerina faces to the audience but then get into little cat-fights with each other — but I also think in a way it’s more subversive when they dance seriously, especially when they dance Balanchine, who idolized / objectified women in so fervently declaring that “ballet is woman.” Ballet to him may have been woman, but of course one with a certain body type. When they do that, what I call a “group grapevine” so ubiquitous in Balanchine ballets (clip one around the 4:42-4:57 mark), of course their bodies are going to get all twisted around each other; that weaving in and out of each other in complicated patterns requires skinny, lithe little bodies. And those kind of showgirl-ish “strutting hip juts” (clip one: 3:56-4:12)– they don’t even need to give them any oomph; with their male bodies, they’re  going to look different, and funny in a way you never noticed on, for example, the ballerinas in “Rubies.” I just can’t stop laughing at the 5:18 point on clip one — it’s so Balanchine taken to a hilariously ridiculous extreme. And I love the wrapping of the hands atop each other (clip two: 2:21-3:01) that here takes on lesbian undertones, which in Balanchine’s similar patterns and gestures looks innocuously sweetly girlish. They mean everything in good fun, but because it’s not completely off the wall, it makes you think, it makes you see things in a different way.

Anyway, unbelievably I haven’t seen this troupe since college. I don’t know how I’ve missed them all these years in New York but I’m definitely going to see them more often now.

More Fall For Dance reviews coming this week.