Just a reminder that Angel Corella’s new company is making its U.S. debut at City Center next month (March 17-20 to be exact). Here are a few pictures to whet your appetite:

Angel with his sister, Carmen Corella (who, if you remember, was a SLSG favorite before she left ABT); photo by John Anderson;

Angel and dancers in String Sextet (Corella’s first piece of choreography), photo by Manuel de los Galanes;

Two pics of Angel, in Corsaire by Joseph Aznar (top), and in Bayadere by Rosalie O’Connor; and

Rehearsal photo of dancers Kazuko Omori, Ashley Ellis, and Alba Cazorla by Fernando Bufala.

In addition to Angel’s first piece of choreography, String Sextet (set to Tchaikovsky’s Souvenir From Florence), the program will feature new work by Russell Ducker, a new pas de deux by flamenco dancer Maria Pages danced by Angel and Carmen (which I am particularly excited about), and works by Christopher Wheeldon (DGV: Danse a Grand Vitesse, which was nominated for an Olivier award when it premiered in London in 2006) and Leonid Lavrovsky, and Vladimir Vasilyov and Natalia Kasatkina’s Sunny Duet to be danced by Adiarys Almeida and our Herman Cornejo (who is married to Carmen, for those who didn’t know).

Go here for more info and schedule.

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.

Photo by Rosalie O’Connor, for ABT, of Craig Salstein acting as angel between a warring Ethan Stiefel (airborne) and Herman Cornejo (crouching) in Tharp’s Rabbit and Rogue.

So last night I went to Christopher Wheeldon’s Morphoses at Central Park’s SummerStage, who were performing to live music by Martha Wainwright. Of course I would have gone no matter, but hearing that my favorite, Marcelo Gomes, was guest-performing with the company, made it all the more urgent.

Anyway, Morphoses events are often very well-attended and there was a bit of a mix-up with my tickets — they’d issued me a guest, rather than press pass and so my friend and I got ousted from the section up front. I understand these things happen, especially with very popular dance companies and it wouldn’t have been a big deal if I could see well at long distances at night (and if I hadn’t helped others get in whose tickets weren’t mixed up….) But whatever, I could deal I thought, even though I felt like a total loser.

So, my friend and I walked to the back dejectedly. But, then, when we got all the way to the back, it ended up our tickets weren’t for the reserved risers but for the skybox, a tent-covered, elevated section that put us far above the standing crowd. And in that elevated section, sat (among others) ABT soloist and one of my favorite dancers, Craig Salstein! He was sitting next to a really cute dancer-looking guy who turned out to be Marcelo’s bf Then a waitress came by serving us free wine and I knew this was THE place to be, not down there on the ground with those earthlings! I still couldn’t see tremendously well, but I can always see Marcelo from wherever I am and I kind of felt better being with the ABT peeps anyway.

So my friend Susan and I ended up chatting with Craig and Marcelo’s friend throughout the show and they are the sweetest guys! Craig seemed so different than he is onstage! For people who don’t know him, he’s the type of dancer who always gets the bravura roles that require a big personality, and very good acting (not to mention dance) skills, like Mercutio in R&J and the bespectacled nerdy guy who can nevertheless dance up a storm in Taylor’s Company B, and the poor guy who gets girls tossed at him from every which way in Tharp’s Baker’s Dozen, etc. etc. So because he has such a way with comedy I expected him to be cracking jokes every five seconds and acting all clownish and all. But he wasn’t like that at all – -he was really serious and calm, albeit gregarious and easy to talk to. I told my friends, who I went out with afterward, the same and one said, “well, he can’t be Mercutio ALL the time; he’d go crazy.” True.

He’d just got back from vacation (in Italy, where he saw “Roberto Bolle and Friends” — hmmm, didn’t know there was a “Roberto Bolle and Friends”!), and was sporting a serious tan. We talked about ABT’s upcoming season at Avery Fisher Hall and Italy and his choreography and how much I liked it and how great Marcelo is and what I tweet about (you, tossing your mandolin into the wings instead of Jared Matthews’s hands during R&J I said; he seemed bemused) and other chit-chat. Fun fun fun to meet a favorite dancer and another favorite’s boyfriend

Okay, I’m running off to another Morphoses performance today and have to get going but will write about the actual show tonight or tomorrow morning. Obviously Marcelo was god, Martha Wainwright was good but to me it was too much about her — too much music, almost a music performance with some dancing thrown in — highlights were Edwaard Liang’s premiere and Wheeldon’s Fools’ Paradise (which I saw anew thanks to Marcelo), Tiler Peck, Gonzalo Garcia, a duet between Maria Kowroski and Jared Angle, Wendy Whelan, Rory Hohenstein, a funny joke by Wainwright about lying down and having people do things to her and Wheeldon’s somewhat embarrassed response, and did I mention Marcelo Gomes…

March 17-20, 2010 at NY’s City Center. The program will feature four ballets, one of which is a U.S. premiere by the company’s founder, our own Angel Corella, called String Sextet and set to Tchaikovsky — his first work of choreography! Dancers include Angel Corella himself, Herman Cornejo(!), Carmen Corella(!), and other principal dancers and first soloists from around the world including Iain Mackay, Adiarys Almeida, Natalia Tapia, Kazuko Omori, and Joseph Gatti.

Top photo: Carmen Corella, Iain Mackay and Adiarys Almeida in VII, photo by Manuel de los Galanes; bottom photo of Angel in Bayadere with ABT, by Rosalie O’Connor.

I’m so excited — I’ve been waiting for this! Tickets go on sale September 8, 2009, at which point you can call Citytix at 212-581-1212 or visit the website.

Because there aren’t nearly enough pictures of Roberto Bolle online, let me just post one more…

So, it all ended Saturday night with Roberto Bolle and Irina Dvorovenko dancing the leads once again in Romeo and Juliet. I’d already seen the same cast earlier in the week and so didn’t get another ticket, but I decided to watch from the Met lobby where they have a couple of high def screens.

I actually did this on Friday night as well for the Herman Cornejo / Xiomara Reyes cast, until I ran into some new friends during intermission who’d snagged a couple of tickets outside from patrons who had to leave for one reason or another. They gave me ticket marked Grand Tier, where I’d never sat before. Well, I didn’t know we weren’t supposed to do that! My friends went in before me and after seeing the hard time the usher gave them (he said all tickets are non-transferrable, but he seemed more irked that she’d made up a story about meeting friends for drinks and then getting stuck or something!), I was about to run back out and resume my place in front of the screen. But then the usher just kind of nodded and laughed and rolled his eyes. “It’s okay, it’s the end of the season. You’ve all got to see your Romeo and Juliet,” he said, softening.

(photo of Cornejo and Reyes by Gene Schiavone)

Funny, though, I hadn’t thought of the ticket-swap thing, but another new friend recently suggested it to me as a way to get in, particularly to the opera, which is always sold out here practically minutes after tickets go on sale. And then I remembered reading in a Jonathan Ames book (I think it was The Extra Man, which is now a movie, no?…) where two characters regularly do this, again with the opera. I had no idea it was frowned upon — I mean if the other patrons aren’t coming back…

Anyway, Grand Tier was nice for a change! Different perspective being raised a little above the stage like that. Xiomara and Herman were very good. I liked them much better than the first time I saw them in this — performing the balcony pas de deux at an opening night gala a couple of years back. Xiomara acted everything well and really brought the part to life and, because of her powerful final scenes, Herman really didn’t end up outshining her. And what I really liked about Herman’s Romeo is that he danced him so that at the beginning, he’s a show-off, a dancing show-off of course. The other Romeos kind of dance him at the beginning as if he’s immature, reckless with the sword-fighting, etc. But Herman gave his Romeo a character arc that makes more sense for him given his immense dance skill. So all of that jumping around stage at the beginning of the balcony scene makes sense to me now. And for the first time I noticed that during the balcony scene, Romeo does an extra pirouette right after Juliet takes his hand. It’s as if to say, wait a minute, just one more trick for you! I think I first noticed it with Herman because it was so swift and sharp and pronounced, like typical Herman! And then of course his Romeo grows up and learns to become a partner.

I also really liked the scene where Herman’s Romeo and his two friends, Benvolio (Daniil Simkin) and Mercutio (Carlos Lopez), are play-sparring before they crash the Capulet ball. For once all three men were about the same height, and were perfectly spaced apart onstage (the dancers playing these characters aren’t always), and their movements were all perfectly in sync. I think some choreography that either requires very intricate footwork or that is very evocative of something (like play-fencing here) tends to look better on smaller bodies, particularly smaller bodies that move so well and are capable of making such sharp, enunciated movements. I was still watching from the screen downstairs at that point and it was really visually stunning.

Anyway, back to Roberto and Irina.

(photo by MIRA, from ABT website)

Roberto and Irina were beautiful again. And again I really liked Irina’s very real final scene, where her Juliet simply backs into Romeo’s body while walking backward, horrified at the sight of a corpse next to her. No melodrama whatsoever, all very genuine and it really moved me. I wanted to cry for her when she collapsed on seeing Romeo.

The lobby screens of course are not really the ideal place to view dance and of course don’t substitute for buying a ticket and going inside — there’s a lot of talking, ushers going through this rather intense ritual of closing the ticket windows and changing the signs above the booths, moving the expandable line-holders and untaping house manager phone cords from the front walls, and just goofing with each other (on Friday night, the ushers all started singing “One Day More” from Les Miserables in anticipation of the season ending!) Not to mention all the tourists who have to venture in and ask if what’s going on on the screen is actually live, what play it is, who the dancers are, etc. etc.

Still, you do see certain things you miss inside. I noticed, for example, how Roberto takes up space on the stage and how that makes him so much more visible than the other Romeos (excepting Marcelo). On Friday night (Herman and Xiomara in the leads), a tourist came in and asked me what the ballet was, then asked me to point out the main characters to her. It was during the scene where Juliet and Paris are dancing and Romeo’s watching. I actually had a hard time pointing out Romeo to her because Herman was kind of lost in the crowd. If you looked for him, you found him and he was doing what he was supposed to be doing: noticing Juliet and watching her intently. But you had to look for him. I also remembered someone in the audience on David and Gillian day remarking that she couldn’t figure out who Romeo was for half the first act. And then I also remembered thinking how Cory Stearns always kept to the corners and how it made him so much less visible than Hee Seo as Juliet.

But I noticed on Saturday night watching Roberto Bolle on the screen that it’s impossible not to see him, and not because he’s tall and handsome, but because he’s standing far away from the rest of the crowd, practically circling right around Paris and Juliet, the only ones who are centerstage, like a shark. When it’s time, he aggressively goes right in, and pushes Paris aside by literally standing in the very space Paris is currently occupying. Everyone in the lobby watching the screen giggled, some laughed and some swooned when he dove in like that. The other Romeos kind of approach Juliet hesitantly, as if to say, “excuse me, I’m kind of attracted to you.” But he was all, “I want you and you want me too!” The camera is perfectly centered and I watched for the rest of the performance how Roberto is always as close to center stage as he can possibly be and still be doing what he’s supposed to be doing. Not being a performer myself, it made me realize that there is an art to stagecraft — it’s not only about dancing well and looking good, there is actually an art to how to use the stage well. I think Roberto is the most mature and experienced of all the Romeos and the younger dancers could learn a lot about that from watching him.

Anyway, I was to meet some of my new friends at the stage door, so after all the curtain calls I waited about fifteen minutes — until the ushers said they were closing the house — then walked downstairs (the Met stage door is basically in the underground Lincoln Center parking lot). I didn’t see my friends at first but ran into choreographer Avi Scher who was there to chat with friends. I was talking to him a little bit when Alexandre Hammoudi, who danced Paris (and who I liked recently as Orion in Sylvia), exited. He and Avi are apparently friends because he stopped to talk. Alexandre was the sweetest guy — kept congratulating Avi on his recent successes with his company (at Jacob’s Pillow, at City Center). And he has the most charming smile and accent My new crush

(headshot from ABT)

Anyway, weirdest thing when Irina and Roberto exited. Irina exited first and got mobbed. By the time she got down to where I was standing she seemed really frazzled, like she really needed to get out of there. Max Beloserkovsky (her husband) was with her. They were being nice and polite and responding to people who wanted to say hello and get a picture but they seemed like they really needed to be somewhere. She’s so tiny, and so beautiful in person. Both of them are.

Then Roberto made his grand exit / crowd entrace last and he seemed the same. It was crowded, like it was for Swan Lake, but a little less so, but he seemed like he really needed to be somewhere in a huff as well. I wondered when the company is flying out to L.A.; Irina and Roberto are to open the Los Angeles season this Thursday but I figured they weren’t leaving for a few days.

Anyway, he was stopping for some pictures and autographs, but not many. You really had to be an aggressive fan to get a photo with him. Then, this guy beside me with a monster camera asked him for something as he passed by us — I assumed it was a picture — and his eyes got wide and he said “no, no” and shook his head rapidly, smiled and looked quickly away. I wondered what was such a big deal — maybe the guy wanted to take a video and wanted him to talk into the camera or something, because why balk at yet another picture?

Anyway, rather hilariously, Roberto just started walking briskly through the crowd. If you didn’t practically downright clobber him, you weren’t getting a picture or autograph or anything.

So, he was walking through the crowded hallway kind of snaking through the crowd acting as if none of those people were actually there to see him (which I guess is nice; if a dancer makes this huge exit and dramatically opens his arms out to the crowd like Evita, you’d think, how frigging presumptuous, right). Well people didn’t really know what to do. So everyone just kind of started following him! At this point, I spotted my friend I was to meet in the crowd and I called out and tapped on her shoulder. “Come on!” she said, motioning for me to follow as well. So I followed. Haha, he was like an unintentional Pied Piper leading us all through the underground Lincoln Center maze.

He stopped near the exit to the parking lot for a few more pictures and autographs.

And then he just stopped, and stood there, and no one knew what to do! I don’t know if he even realized there was this huge group of people who’d followed him outside and were eagerly awaiting his next move.

It was like we didn’t want the season to end and he was the last performer to leave and we were all kind of devastated! We didn’t want him to go home, and we didn’t want to go home ourselves (it didn’t help that it was POURING with kind of frightening thunder and lightening).

Finally, he went off with a couple of incredibly lucky women (who we surmised were agents and the like) and we all stood watching as he exited southside of the lot by Fordham Law School. My friend called out “Ciao, ciao, Roberto.” And then others joined in. He turned around one last time and nodded and said bye.

And we just kept standing there while he walked out into the pouring rain with those women. No umbrella. “He needs an umbrella,” someone said. “I think we should go,” someone else said. After his increasingly small figure finally disappeared into the distance, my new friends and I walked back through the maze to the north exit. Everyone else who was still out there followed. Everyone had their heads down and looked so forlorn! Under the 67th Street scaffolding my friends and I chatted for a while about the season and this final performance and some of the dancers we like and our own dancing. Then, probably about an hour later, a cab came by honking and I told them to take it. They got in reluctantly. We vowed to find each other again next season and hang out and keep up via blogs and facebook until then.

So nice making new ballet friends! And I met several this season. But so horrible when the season ends. I hate this feeling!

Thank you so much, you guys, for all the wonderful comments on my Veronika Part on Letterman post, and for the comments on all of my ABT and SYTYCD posts. I’ve been so busy at the Met I haven’t had time to respond to most of them but I really greatly appreciate them!

I am writing my review of the fabulous debut of Hee Seo and Cory Stearns as Romeo and Juliet. And, I also inadvertently snuck in (more on that soon) to see Herman Cornejo and Xiomara Reyes dance the leads last night and will write a bit about that too (they were both much better than the last time I saw them in these roles — Xiomara’s performance was very moving and I loved Herman’s unique interpretation of Romeo).

In the meantime, James Wolcott posts his thoughts on Veronika Part’s Letterman appearance. Also, he spotted her in Madison Square Park at his wife, Laura Jacobs’ reading of her latest novel, The Bird Catcher (which I’m reading now)! I keep missing these Jacobs readings! Probably because I’m too busy lately to read blogs and keep up with all of her appearances, and Barnes and Noble has for some reason taken me off of their events updates list. Anyway, in his post, James Wolcott also identifies the maker of Veronika’s gorgeous Letterman appearance dress, Christian Cota, which Haglund finds in Cota’s collection.

In light of all of my waxing on the swan dives, a contact of Marcelo sent me a photo of his:

I didn’t see Marcelo’s Siegfried this season (I was making a point of it to see people other than my regulars this time around), so it wasn’t fresh on my mind, but from this picture it looks — wow, breathtaking!

Finally, regarding not the swan dives per se but Swan Lake in general, a new ballet-going friend of mine, author Marie Mutsuki Mockett, has a very interesting post (with lots of videos) about the evolution of Odette. Ooh, and I see she now also has a post on Cory and Hee’s Romeo and Juliet (which I saw with her)!

Today’s the last day of ABT in NY. Sadness! Matinee is David Hallberg and Gillian Murphy and tonight is Roberto Bolle and Irina Dvorovenko. And then, they’re on to LA. for all the celebrity viewings… I hope there are bloggers out there?… I don’t know if Jen and Jolene have time for a trip down the coast.  Ooh, but look, they do have a video of Veronika on Letterman!

Herman Cornejo and Xiomara Reyes, photo by Gene Schiavone from Ballet.co.

Finally, Pashmina week is here!

I couldn’t find any pictures of the pashmina lifts, but watch this video — two occur around 430-440 and 528-532. By the way, that clip, from a BBC broadcast apparently, is really good — the Royal’s Darcey Bussell talks about MacMillan’s gorgeous balcony pas de deux and then it’s performed by the great Carlos Acosta and Tamara Rojo.

Anyway, last night’s debut cast at ABT was Marcelo Gomes and Diana Vishneva in the leads. It was excellent. The audience collectively rose to its feet right after the curtain went down on the two lovers, dead in the crypt, and hardly anyone sat down or left until after the final curtain call. And a significant amount of people didn’t even want to leave then, after all the lights came up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen quite that kind of crowd reaction before. Diana was the best I’ve ever seen her (she’s really growing on me). The end was a bit melodramatic and overdone, but that aside, her performance was brilliant — perfectly and passionately danced and in character throughout. And the bourrees Marcelo is always perfect. He’s the lifting king in this very lift-heavy ballet. And he’s of course very romantic and passionate to boot He’s never not completely made my night at ABT. He kissed Diana on the lips during curtain call; audience went “awwwwwww!”

Herman Cornejo danced Mercutio, and, believe me, there’s no one better for that part. No one! Audience went wild over him, nearly as much as the leads. Veronika Part replaced Stella Abrera as Lady Capulet. It’s not a dancing role but a very serious acting one. I’ve never seen a more tragic Lady Capulet. I really felt her horror at Tybalt’s death. I almost cried with her. Isaac Stappas was a very good Tybalt, very virile, very threatening, but ultimately vulnerable. And Carlos Lopez was a very good Benvolio — he landed all of his jumps very well

And 95-year-old Frederic Franklin played Friar Lawrence (and got loads of applause for it when he first appeared onstage — for a minute I thought they were going to have to stop the music so he could take a bow!) Above photo of Franklin, with Marcelo Gomes as Romeo and Julie Kent as Juliet, from Liverpool Daily.

So the rest of the week: Marcelo will dance Romeo once more, on Wednesday night, with Paloma Herrera as Juliet. Tonight (Tuesday) and Saturday night Roberto Bolle dances with Irina Dvorovenko (a must-see performance). Wednesday and Saturday matinees are David Hallberg and Gillian Murphy. And Friday night are Herman Cornejo and Xiomara Reyes in the leads. Thursday night’s performance should be special: the young Hee Seo and Cory Stearns are making their debuts in the roles, and, according to the Playbill, there is also to be a little celebration that night in honor of Franklin, who will again play Friar Lawrence.

Pretty amazing to still be onstage at 95!

At a celebration earlier this year, from Liverpool Daily Post (sweet article too).

Photo by Andrew Testa, of Franklin dancing in the 1940s, from Judith Mackrell’s Guardian column.

For ABT’s schedule and ticket info, go here.

(Natalia Osipova, photo by Marc Haegeman, taken from ABT’s website)

Monday night, I saw the Bolshoi’s Natalia Osipova guest-star with ABT in their production of La Sylphide. I wrote a little about her and more about Herman Cornejo, at the bottom of my prior post. Just to reiterate, if you ever want to see pure excellence, do see Herman Cornejo in something — anything. He is just pure, unmitigated, supreme, excellence!

(Herman Cornejo above, in Le Spectre de la Rose, photo by Marty Sohl, also from ABT site)

August Bournonville’s La Sylphide is the story of a Scotsman, James (Cornejo), who is engaged to be married to a woman named Effie, but is seduced by a sylph (Osipova), who no one but he can see. Gurn, a young man in love with Effie, sees James talking and dancing to the air, and tries to warn everyone that he thinks James has gone mad. But people ignore him. An old witch-like lady, Madge (think MacBeth) prophesies that Gurn will marry Effie. Later, when the wedding party guests perform a fun Scottish folk dance, James continues to be taunted / haunted by the sylph who flies through the air. James chases her but she flies out the window. Later, James is on the verge of marrying Effie, even holding up to her the wedding ring, when the sylph plucks it right from his hand and flies out the window. He chases after her into the forest, her lair. Effie collapses into tears and Gurn leads the groomsmen in search of the missing groom.

The second Act takes place in the forest. The sylph seduces James with food, drink, and dance, but every time he tries to touch her she flies away. James wanders the forest, upset about the sylph’s elusiveness. He happens upon Madge and her mates who are concocting a poisonous brew in which they are soaking a scarf. He tells Madge of his troubles and she tells him the scarf is magic; if he wraps it around the sylph’s wings, he can have her. James takes it. When he next sees the sylph, he seduces her with the scarf’s beauty. She flies toward it, delighted and excited, as he waves it around. But once he wraps it around her wings, she slowly dies.

James, brokenhearted, falls into unconsciousness, as the wedding procession of Gurn and Effie is heard in the distance and the sister sylphs carry the sylphide to heaven.

Neither the story nor choreography are as grand and memorable as Giselle, and I’d written before that I was stunned by Osipova’s athletic prowess but not really moved by her Giselle. Here, I thought that, though I didn’t like the choreography as much, her playful, sky-high jumps made much more sense in this story. Here, she’s not human, she’s not of this world. She’s both a faery and a figure in a man’s dream. So, her unearthly high springing jumps went along with that; they were believable within the story. She is a really beautiful dancer and can certainly jump like no one’s business, but I wished she would have been a bit more tantalizing and playfully vexing, the way Janie Taylor was in Robbins’ The Dreamer. Not like a vixen or an evil spirit; I just mean more forcefully refusing to leave him alone, making him realize what a dull life he’s leading; how he longs for something more. Just like in Giselle, she seemed to be dancing on her own, not really working opposite a partner. It’s probably really hard, though, when there are language barriers, and I think both times either she or her partner (David Hallberg, and Herman) filled in for someone else last minute.

I thought Herman did an excellent job of showing how tormented he was by her, and how confused he was about what to do, how frustrated he was about his life. And his super-charged solo variation expressed that. No one jumps like him. No one. No one turns like Angel Corella and no one jumps like Herman Cornejo. He opened that variation with the best tour jete I’ve ever seen, and I knew — the whole audience knew judging by the gasps — we were in for something huge. Then onto all the high jumps with the fluttering beats of the feet. Everything he does is marked by sheer perfection — perfect sharpness, perfect precision, perfect control, perfect line, perfect clarity, perfect enunciation, beyond perfect height, beyond human height. He’s a god!

My problem with this choreography is that there’s not enough for him to do. And I got really frustrated. I didn’t want that variation to end. Nor did I want Daniil Simkin’s (as Gurn) solo variation to end. There wasn’t enough for him to shine in his either. He had a few kicking jumps, but I need for him to do so much more; Daniil’s too great of a dancer as well! Daniil was hilarious, though, when he imitated to the guests James’s bizarre actions, his weird dancing to the air. In addition to being a superb bravura dancer, he’s a very lively actor too.

On before La Sylphide was Paul Taylor’s light, lyrical Airs. I’m going to write about this more after I’ve seen it a couple more times this weekend, but I love watching ABT dancers do Paul Taylor! I hope no one takes offense and I love Paul Taylor’s dancers, but ABT just brings so much more to “modern dance” than a modern dance company. They bring poetry. Paul Taylor is American modern, and when his dancers dance him it looks celebratory, celebratory of humankind and of the dancing spirit, like something you’d like to get up on stage and do with them. It’s participatory, inviting. Of course you know if you’ve ever tried how hard, how impossible it actually is to dance like them without loads of training. But when you see ABT dancers dance that’s obvious from the get-go. It’s not celebratory and participatory, it’s elevated, awe-inducing dance, dance as an art. You know what I mean? All of the dancers were excellent — particularly Kristi Boone and Misty Copeland, but I loved Arron Scott the most because he so exemplified what I said above: outwardly he looked just like a Paul Taylor dancer, but he starts to move and he’s just so much more!

Photo by Paul B. Goode, of Paul Taylor Dance Company performing Airs, taken from DanceViewTimes)

Last night I read from my new novel (which is still VERY much a work in progress) with the Writers Room at the Cornelia Street Cafe, and it actually went okay! Better than I expected! Several of my wonderful friends showed up to give me much-needed encouragement and support (maybe someday I’ll be confident enough actually to post here ahead of time when I’ll be reading…) and they all seemed genuinely to like the piece I read. And several people I didn’t know came up to me afterward — including a filmmaker who gave me her card! — to tell me how much they liked it. One woman said she wanted to read it as soon as it was out! Though she told me the way she didn’t want it to end. I assured her it didn’t So, I just have to write the rest of the book now…

But I was so worried because the subject matter is kind of controversial and the character whose piece I read from is a young black man with a certain kind of voice that my face and body certainly don’t in any way fit, so I worried I just wouldn’t be able to pull it off. And I am a horribly sucky reader and always will be — I’m just shy and I’m not an actress and that’s just that. But people still got what I was trying to convey through the actual words, so I am extremely happy about that. That’s all I can ever ask for!

Anyway, funny thing is that there was this guy sitting up front who looked just like Christopher Wheeldon. Seriously, just like him except about 10 years younger. And it really freaked me out because then I started thinking of this. And then I started thinking what if someone reacts to me like that! I mean, you can’t please everyone of course, and there are always going to be people who don’t like you, but, well, all I can say is that the more I write (and the closer my first novel gets to publication), I am feeling a lot less critical, at least of new works

Anyway, now that this all-too stressful event is over, I’ll blog about the Natalia Osipova / Herman Cornejo La Sylphide at American Ballet Theater Monday night. She was good, he was insanely excellent. It’s like with Kathryn Morgan the other night in NYCBallet Dancers’ Choice — I don’t know if there are words to describe him. If you want to see sheer perfection, go see him in something — anything. I can’t imagine anyone better in all the world. I mean, every great dancer brings something to the stage, and he simply brings perfection, in the Webster Dictionary definition of the word: “an exemplification of supreme excellence.” One of my Twitter friends (who’s a very established ballet dancer) told me he’s a “dancer’s dancer,” which I can totally see. He’s a non-dancer’s dancer too

Anyway, more tomorrow, I mean later today. I have to sleep now.

Top photo from here; bottom photo by Mark Haegeman, taken from here.

The Bolshoi! Russian ballerinas! Insane extensions, insane jumps, insane speed!

Last night Bolshoi ballerina Natalia Osipova guest-performed with American Ballet Theater as Giselle. David Hallberg was her Albrecht, Jared Matthews Hilarion, and Veronika Part was Myrta. (Go here for a synopsis of that ballet).

It was all-around some of the best dancing I’ve ever seen, but I have to say, on a scale of 1-10, in terms of chemistry between Osipova and Hallberg, I’d give it a 1.5, and in terms of all-around acting (excluding Kristi Boone’s captivating turn as Bathilde and a rather amusing Vitali Krauchenka as her father), a 2. Regarding the chemistry, to be fair, Osipova was originally supposed to dance with Ethan Stiefel, but because of an injury, David danced in Ethan’s place. A Twitter friend DM’d me asking why she didn’t dance with Angel Corella and I think it’s a good question. He would have been a better fit size-wise and stylistically for her.

But as I said, the dancing was tremendous. During the second act, Osipova did a develope to her ear, she did those hops with her arms in the air as if she had springs in her toe shoes or had a trampoline beneath her, and she did that flat-footed jumping turn at the speed of damn light. Seriously, when she made her entrance during the Wilis act, I put my opera glasses to my face, watched her walk out, and suddenly she was gone from my frame of view. I searched around and around for her with the damn glasses attached to my face wondering where in the world she went. When everyone around me suddenly started screaming BRAAAVAAAA BRAAVAAA BRAAAVAAA, I nearly dropped the glasses. When I took them away, I saw her mid-jumping turn going around and around, in a blur.

Audience (largely Russian, at least in the back orchestra) went stark raving nuts for her. I nearly had my left eardrum blown out over the ear-high develope. And those hopping jumps — seriously, she was half-way to the ceiling. I mean, when Paloma did them (I really did like her Giselle the more I think about it) she raised her head, like those jumps were a prayer to return to life. But here Natalia was going boing boing boing, up to the sky, head straight forward probably so as not to take away from her springing height. I mean, I don’t know. I love to be moved by the image a step creates, as Paloma did, but I can’t deny the thrill of those insanely high jumps and that lightening-fast turn and that insanely high develope.

The high bravura jumps in the first, peasant act, though, worked with her characterization. Her Giselle was all frolicking gaity, a girl in love with dance, in love with life. Her mad scene was over-the-top histrionics. The critic next to me described it as traditional.

And then David. Well, at the beginning he did his Albrecht as a romantic not a carefree playboy. But his was a romantic who was pretty madly infatuated with her. I think David is trying hard to get rid of his nice guy image. He rapped on her door like her mother’d better let her out or else. And when his squire didn’t full-out approve of his peasant costume, I thought he was going to kill him. And after the mad scene, he had kind of a mad scene of his own: I thought he was going to throw poor Jared’s Hilarion straight into the orchestra pit.

But ditto for David on the virtuosic dancing. I think by the time the second act came around, he was following Natalia’s bravura lead, doing sky-high jetes. He only did a Marcelo throw back of the head on the first jump in the diagonal, and then did the ten bizillion entrechats, same as Roberto Bolle. But David’s Nureyev feet!  His feet are so heavenly — I think he has the best of any dancer around today, at least any dancer I’ve ever seen. Those entrechats were from God.

As Myrta, Veronika Part jeted around the stage like I’ve never seen her leap before. She really takes up the stage when she leaps and she appeared to just be flying. I don’t even think I noticed all those jumps before! Her Myrta was icy cold and remained so throughout. Of course it was hard to concentrate on her face with all the theatrics going on behind her, but I didn’t see her peeking over her shoulder like Michele Wiles did. After she directed Hilarion’s death, she turned from him, toward us, and gave a wickedly simple little “and that’s that” nod right to the beat of the music, right as he fell, a smug smirk crossing her lips. Splendidly frightful!

I loved Kristi Boone as Bathilde, Albrecht’s betrothed princess. This is a pure character role, no dancing, and she was radiant in that gorgeous red dress, initially all supremely bitchy and regal, then softening when Giselle started pressing her skirttails to her face, allowing the poor girl to have one thing in common with nobility — a love of clothing. Then, when she realized Albrecht’s betrayal, instead of stomping all over Giselle’s pride and insisting Albrecht kiss her gloved hand, she looked more wounded and discomfited.

Vitali Krauchenka was rather amusing as Bathilde’s father, the prince, probably unwittingly so. He seemed to have his eyes half-closed the whole time and the way he looked at her, following her all around as she decided where to sit, whom to talk to, etc., it looked like he was saying “yes, yes, miss priss, whatever you want.” It cracked me up. I think he might have been better opposite Maria Bystrova’s Bathilde though. Hers was more of an unrelenting snobby witch.

Hee Seo and Blaine Hoven were very good in the peasant pas de deux. It was one of the most entertaining peasant pdd’s I’ve seen, which I guess went along with the virtuosity of the whole night.

Only the Russians I’ll be excited to see more of Osipova next week. She’s dancing La Sylphide with Herman Cornejo on Monday night and again with David Hallberg on Wednesday evening. Go here for the full schedule.

(Desir, photo by Cylla von Tiedemann, from ABT website)

On the Dnieper grew on me after seeing it the second time on Tuesday night, with the new cast, although I still generally preferred the first cast. If you missed my earlier post on Ratmansky’s new ballet, it’s here. Second cast was: Jose Carreno as Sergei the returning soldier; Hee Seo as Natalia, his betrothed; Diana Vishneva as Olga, the flirt who steals his heart; and Alexandre Hammoudi as Olga’s volatile fiance.

I absolutely loved Diana as Olga. She and Hee Seo, who was excellent as well, really drove home the ballet’s pathos and heartbreak. A BalletTalk poster said that with Diana, Olga became the central character and I think they’re right. Diana’s Olga was the most dynamic character in the whole thing; she really underwent a change in those mere 40 minutes. And it was believable. She starts out this carefree and careless flirtatious girl, frolicking around, teasing Sergei, teasing her boyfriend. And when her flirtatiousness with Sergei sets the whole disastrous string of events in motion — Sergei falls for her and she for him, her fiance has an emotional breakdown and beats Sergei, her parents are distraught, and she realizes what she and Sergei have done to poor Natalia — she really grows up, overnight, becomes a totally different person, takes responsibility for her actions. When she and Sergei bow to Natalia at the end in a prayer for forgiveness, before running off to their new life together, you feel equal heartbreak for both women.

Hee Seo and Veronika Part were equally compelling, although Seo seemed a little younger and more naive up front and I didn’t notice the holding out of the arms and the resting of the head on the shoulder like I did with Veronika. Jose, who’s generally ABT’s best actor I think (he never overdoes it; everything is authentic), was good as Sergei, but different from Marcelo. Jose seemed to be searching for something at the beginning, trying to rediscover his hometown with those short, staccato steps in each direction. His movements at the beginning were more modern than ballet, sharp and staccato at points, like he was unnerved that he didn’t recognize things or that things were different. (That kind of movement is more visible on a smaller body though.) Marcelo didn’t seem as sad or desperate up front. But then when torn between the two women, with Jose I  didn’t notice the back and forth of the jumps, this way and that, as I did with Marcelo. The jumps first to one woman, then the other, are my favorite Sergei movement trait, along with the throwing himself to the ground in anguish, almost like a half push-up.

Alexandre Hammoudi was a very different fiance from David Hallberg. Alexandre was quieter, especially up front, not seeming to realize the potential dangers of Olga’s flirtatiousness. He underwent a character change, like Diana’s Olga, then, becoming aggrieved and angry when he realized what had happened. David was more volatile up front, as if that was fundamentally part of the fiance’s character. Those extremely fast-paced steps during his anger scene were not as pronounced with Alexandre as with David. It looked more like he was kicking up leaves (which they had strewn on the ground); with David he was using those feet like daggers. David made such an impression with that character, and specifically that going nuts scene — I’m never going to forget it; I’m never going to forget that insane, almost terrifying, tap dance.

Okay, can I stop talking about this ballet now and focus on the other Prokofiev pieces?!

I generally wasn’t in love with Desir (photo at top of post) by James Kudelka, at least not as it was danced here. The movement is lovely and much of it original and the dancers are excellent but something was just lacking and I can’t figure out exactly what. It’s a ballet about several different couples, and I think my problem is that all the couples are basically the same, at least the way it’s being danced by ABT. With someone like Tharp or Robbins, different couples have different issues — there’s a romantic couple, a sexed-up couple, a fighting couple, etc. Here, the first two couples on first, dressed in fiery red — the women in long, flowing dresses that really whirl when they turn, the men in brown pants and long-sleeved colored tops –  both seem passionate and in love, all but Gillian Murphy from the first night’s cast, wearing bright smiles. But I don’t know if the happy smiles are supposed to be there. Some of the movement is rather chaotic. The woman seems to want to go one way and the man keeps turning her the other, mid-air. Gillian was the only one who made this dramatic, as if there was something not quite right going on between the characters. Apollinaire Scherr noticed that as well; read her very insightful comments on the whole program here (scroll down).

Then we move to a set of four couples, all dancing at once. My favorite part of the whole ballet is the men of these couples. At one point, men and women split and the men all dance together, followed by the women doing a group dance. When the men group dance in this way, each is doing his own thing — one jumping arms up toward the sky as if in ecstasy, another jeteing back and forth as if confused, another spinning himself into a whirlwind, etc. Then the women dance and they all do exactly the same thing — hold up their skirts and tip toe around, jump waving the skirts all about, all in unison, in sync. They’re all the same character — what does this say about men and women? Then, the couples pair up again, each man to a woman, and there’s one really funny part where the women stand still and the men do a bunch of high, twisty turning jumps,their limbs flying — as if to protest, “what’s up with that?,” “how can you say that to me?” It’s very funny, very evocative of real life relationships. The audience seemed to laugh louder on the first night though.

Still, in all, the couple who stood out to me the most is the more adagio one with all the beautiful lifts. The second night it was danced by Jared Matthews and Maria Riccetto, who were very good, but there was just something extra special about Cory Stearns and Isabella Boylston that really took my breath away the first night. Another performance I’m not going to forget.

And then Prodigal Son. This isn’t really my favorite ballet and I don’t honestly see how critics can trash Boris Eifman so and love this. What’s with all that fist-pounding on the thighs, the wide-mouthed screams at what, being asked to get water from the well with his sisters? How melodramatic is that? I know it’s a classic now, but I feel if it premiered today people would laugh and roll their eyes. Unless Balanchine meant for parts of it to be funny, like that up front melodrama, and the “sex” scenes. Anyway, read Apollinaire’s comments about Prodigal too, though; she made me appreciate it more, and talked about how certain dancers can play up the immaturity in those early thigh-pounding scenes so that it doesn’t look so full of melodrama.

Herman Cornejo as the son and Michele Wiles as the Siren danced the leads on opening night; Angel Corella and Kristi Boone the second night. Unfortunately I have to miss the third cast — the magnificent Daniil Simkin and the tantalizingly beautiful Irina Dvorovenko. If anyone sees them, please report! I’m dying to know how they do together!

Herman was excellent dance-wise. As expected, he nailed all those high-flying, angst-ridden jumps at the beginning. He danced a little more carefully than Angel, who had a minor slip at the beginning, then looked like he might fall on his way down that slide in the middle section. But I felt Angel delivered on the drama better; he took me through the emotions with him. The way he watched his Siren, he was like a little boy mesmerized. It made you mesmerized by her too. And then the way he danced with her — it was like an awkward, boy losing his virginity, sex scene. I’ve never seen it quite look like that before, though it’s probably supposed to! Then when he was robbed and left to die (Herman was really shockingly stunning  in this part too — he was a horrid sight, his body up there, leaning almost lifeless against the cross-like slide), and came crawling back home body all dirt-encrusted, then into his father’s arms, like a baby. It does end up being very emotionally compelling, silly as it is at the top. I’d like to see Herman in this later, after he’s had a few goes at it. I think if he could up the drama more, he’d be perfect.

Kristi so far has been my favorite Siren! This role I find a bit inherently awkward too — all that wrapping the long train of her costume around her legs, crouching to get it between her thighs. It almost always looks more weird than sexy, but somehow Kristi whipped the fabric around so fast, it was spellbinding, practically had a dominatrix feel. And then when she does those — what I call upside-down crab walks — where she’s on her hands and toe pointes, belly up and she walks past him develope-ing her legs up with each step, spider-like — most dancers kick straight up, but Kristi’s developes went all the way back, practically to her chest. It looked so much more tantalizing than I’ve seen that before. Kristi’s pointed toes are so pronounced, her feet practically look like ensnaring sickles — she probably has a better Siren body than anyone (except for maybe Veronika Part — I wonder if she’ll ever be cast?)

Okay, I’m done. Sorry I keep writing so much! If anyone sees the Daniil / Irina Prodigal cast, please let me know!

I had a crazy day. This afternoon I went to the Guggenheim to see this new ScentOpera – an opera told entirely through music and smell (each seat had a little microphone that blew the scents into your face) — which I’ll write about soon. Suffice it to say it was very interesting and I think Nico Muhly has found his niche: composing for smell — because, unlike with dance, his music most definitely did not overpower these whiffs at all, at least not as created by perfumier Christophe Laudamiel. I nearly passed out from “Funky Green Impostor.”

Anyway, more about that soon.

Tonight was the premiere of ABT’s new resident artist Alexei Ratmansky’s first ballet for the company — a night for which many have been waiting ever so eagerly. For those not up on the ballet-world gossip: Mr. Ratmansky (from the Ukraine, and former artistic director of the Bolshoi) initially was rumored to be contemplating taking the resident choreographer position at NYCB. Then he didn’t and everyone was depressed because Christopher Wheeldon was leaving to start his own company and everyone really liked Ratmansky and wanted to see more of his work stateside. Then, next thing everyone hears is that he’s accepted the same from ABT, making everyone happy but confused — NYCB is known for being more daring and contemporary in its repertoire; ABT sticks more to the traditional classical story ballets. Ratmansky,who was leaving the Bolshoi because he wanted more of a challenge (the Bolshoi’s rep is akin to ABT’s), seemed a better fit for NYCB.

Anyway, I was expecting tonight something along the lines of Concerto DSCH or something he’s done for NYCB (which is all that I’ve seen by him): a contemporary Balanchine-esque ballet without a linear narrative but with a discernible theme and with original, clever, thought-provoking choreography. Instead, On the Dnieper (the Dnieper is a river in the Ukraine), set to Prokofiev’s music of the same name, is a story ballet that I found to be about three parts Tudor, one part Robbins (with some of the fight scenes).

It’s the story of Sergei (danced by Marcelo Gomes), a young soldier who returns home, after war, to his fiance Natalia (Veronika Part), only to realize he no longer loves her but is attracted to Olga (Paloma Herrera), a flighty, flirtatious local girl who is betrothed to another man (David Hallberg). After a brief encounter, Olga falls for Sergei and begins to doubt her love for her fiance. One evening at a party, Olga dances with her fiance and Sergei becomes jealous and challenges the fiance to a fight. Sergei is felled, and Natalia rescues him — picks him up, cleans him off. But soon Olga is back. Natalia, after trying desperately and unsuccessfully to win Sergei back, heartbroken, does what she knows she must for the man she loves — helps him escape with Olga.

It reminded me of Antony Tudor because there’s a lot of drama — albeit without all the heavy psychology — a lot of hurt, wounded tragic characters with broken dreams, unrequited love, painful sadness that just reverberates through the whole auditorium. And the characters each seem to have a way of moving unique to them: Marcelo’s Sergei jumps back and forth a lot with lots of beats of the feet — as if he can’t decide whom to choose, what to do, as if he’s torn.

David Hallberg’s fiance is rather borderline psychopathic, highly impassioned (to make an understatement) but almost frighteningly controlling of Paloma’s Olga. After the way David had described his character on the Winger, I was expecting a reprisal of his “friend” in Tudor’s Pillar of Fire or his R&J Paris – -vulnerable and hurt but proud and trying to bear his pain noblely in a way that made me want Juliet to leave Romeo for him. That’s not what we got at all! Our first viewing of him is slicing madly through the air at Paloma and her friends as if to say, stop everything, I’m here. Besides the jumps and aggressive arms, he has a lot of crazy fast footwork throughout. At one point, when his jealousy is getting the better of him, he starts shuffling his feet so fast, he actually looks down at them, stunned, like he really can’t control them. A way out-of-control Fred Astaire.

Paloma is all about the fickle, flirtatious girlish jumps. And Veronika is more adagio, and she keeps extending her arms both to one side, then laying her head on that shoulder as if an expression of her loyalty and devotion to Sergei. Later, when she realizes he’s drawn to another woman, this movement looks more like a prayer that he’ll return to her. Veronika is heartbreaking and she’s the emotional centerpiece to the ballet. You really want to cry for her at the end.

I think it’s a good ballet — a little slow in places, but generally compelling and with meaningful movement that echos the characters’ desires and actions. It just surprised me that it wasn’t what I’m used to from him. I think after seeing so much NYCB, I’m becoming so enamored of Balanchine and non-narrative contemporary rep of the kind he’s done on that company. I hope that not all of the work he’ll do for ABT will be story ballets. I hope he will do some Concerto  DSCH and Russian Seasons and Dreams of Japan-like ballets for ABT as well. ABT’s dancers are so brilliant; it’s fascinating watching what they can do with those kinds of movement-heavy, dramatically open-ended kinds of dances.

Also on the program — which I’ll write more about after seeing the other casts — were Balanchine’s Prodigal Son (danced tonight by Herman Cornejo, replacing Ethan Stiefel, who’s still out with an injury), and James Kudelka’s Desir. Desir is about several different relationships — mostly couples — about sexual angst, romance, fighting, etc. I liked parts of it but not all (I’ll write more about it after more viewings), but what really floored me was a beautifully romantic pas de deux with sweeping lift after sweeping lift performed by Cory Stearns and Isabella Boylston. I’ve never really seen Isabella before and Cory I have but not much, and he’s definitely never stood out as much as he did tonight. Those lifts looked hard and he didn’t tire one bit. He was the ideal strong male partner, showing her off, making her look beautiful, giving her such gorgeous height, sweeping her up through the air, without being the least bit show-off-y himself. He was all about her and they both shone. They were breathtaking. And I’m definitely not the only one who thought so. The audience went wild with applause when they took their bows. They got even more applause than Gillian Murphy and Blaine Hoven! (who were excellent as the angst-ridden couple who eventually gets it together in the end). I’m glad Kevin McKenzie gives young dancers these kinds of chances to stand out.

More soon on the rest of the ballets, and hopefully some pictures as well.

Blackpool update: Anna Melnikova and Stefano DiFillipo from Italy (above photo by Andrew Miller from Dance Beat World) won the highly coveted Amateur Latin, placing first in all five dances, then announced their breakup. “I hate it when couples split just when they’ve won something major,” says Eleanor. “It’s like Max and Yulia all over again!”

I can’t find anything on Dance Beat confirming this but another friend told me it’s now been announced that Slavik and Anna will compete together — which would be a good reason for her breaking up with Stefano (and would make me very happy … for Slavik I mean).

Dance Beat reports that Valentin Chmerkovskiy and Daria Chesnokova (US champs in Amateur Latin), disappointingly, didn’t even place in the semi-finals.

(photo from Dance Beat)

Also, Hanna Karttunen (now broken up with Slavik) has announced that she will return to competing with her former partner, Victor DaSilva (who was on that TV show Superstars of Dance) in the exhibition category. Yes! I was so hoping that would happen!

Latin pro comp is tonight!

(photo of Daniil Simkin by John Ross, from ballet.co)

In the ballet world (or my ballet world, rather), the incredible Daniil Simkin debuted last night in ABT’s Le Corsaire (his Met stage debut anyway), dancing the role of Lankendem, the harem owner. (Herman Cornejo was supposed to dance and Daniil’s debut was supposed to be tomorrow night, but Herman is out with an injury, which I’m told isn’t expected to last long, thankfully). I think Daniil did more continuous barrel turns than I’ve ever seen before, traveling around the stage about one and a half times, doing his signature thing by making the very last one high off the ground, super fast, and straight-legged. (I don’t know the ballet term). He also goes up really high on releve (balls of the feet) when lifting his ballerina, which gives her a great deal of height. He danced beautifully with Yuriko Kajiya last night. She looked really weightless in his arms. During curtain calls, he got almost as much applause as Angel Corella’s Ali the slave!

I’ll write more after seeing the next two Corsaire casts, but last night’s opening-night cast for that ballet was excellent: tall, blonde god David Hallberg was perfect as the hero Conrad, by turns romantically tormented over thwarted attempts to get — and keep –  his love, then fearsome and commanding as head pirate (more fearsome and commanding than I think I’ve ever seen David!) Carlos Lopez as Birbanto, Conrad’s friend-turned traitor, and Paloma Herrera as Conrad’s love interest, Medora, were both excellent. I’ve sometimes seen Lopez have some trouble landing jumps solidly, but he seems to have overcome that. He was perfect last night.

Yay, the season has offically begun! This picture was taken during intermission; that’s why it doesn’t look that crowded. I was sprinting in, nearly late, as usual, so didn’t have time to snap some pics before the performance but fortunately it was still light outside during intermission.

Anyway, Michelle Obama (who served as one of the gala’s honorary chairs) looked smashing in a sleek dark grey sleeveless, knee-length dress with tiny black ruffles lining the bottom. I’m sure there will be beaucoup des pictures seeing as how many blasted camera people there were; I’ll be sure to steal some when they’re posted on all the society websites (Oh, look, here it is in the NYTimes already)

(photo Timothy A. Clary)

It was just about the craziest thing I’ve seen on the Met Opera stage: after Veronika Part’s mouthwatering Mozartiana opened the show, artistic director Kevin McKenzie came out and thanked everyone who needed thanked — all the donors, designer Caroline Herrera who funds the gala, etc., and Senator Chuck Schumer came out and gave a little talk about the importance of funding for the arts, etc. Then, Schumer disappeared behind the curtain and moments went by. Everyone kind of looked around at each other like “what’s going to happen next?!”

Soon, the curtain was pulled back to allow some people to carry out a podium with a banner “American Ballet Theater” draped over its front. The doors to the lobby opened and a flock of people bearing weapon-sized cameras blasted in. Several men dressed in black promptly rose from their aisle seats and followed the flock of weapon-camera-bearers to the front of the aisle, near the stage. Caroline Kennedy was announced. She came out, everyone applauded, and she mentioned that the school of ballet associated with ABT, the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School, would be performing on the Met Opera stage for the first time ever tonight. Everyone ooohed and aaahed. Then, she announced First Lady Michelle Obama.

The curtain pulled back again and out she came. Of course everyone gave a standing ovation. She smiled radiantly, then, after a moment, directed us to be seated. Then she gave a short speech. It was a little hard to focus on what she was saying with everyone — both professional photographers and audience members with cell phone and digital cameras alike — flashing away as they were, but she talked about the necessity of the Arts for a culture to flourish, the importance of arts education, etc. Then she introduced the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School students.

As soon as she disappeared behind the curtain, the auditorium remained still pending the exit of the flock of pro camera wielders. It’s funny because there were all these non-dance writers in the press section. You could hear the sighs of relief, the sinking down into the chairs, and the putting away of pens and paper — and cell phones, which they’d used to light their writing paper during Mrs. Obama’s speech, which would have been extremely annoying had it not been for all the flashing bulbs anyway. But it made me wonder how they’d ever survive as performing arts critics! I mean, who needs light to see to write!

Anyway, the students were excellent. They performed Le Defile (The Procession) by Raymond Lukens. There were three large groups of them, in three levels — the very little ones, a medium-age / level group, and the older, very advanced ones. The choreography was basically a showcase of classical ballet steps, much like a very advanced ballet class — jumps, jumps with changing feet, jumps with changing feet that went on forever performed by a set of advanced boys (which drove the audience to wild applause), jetes, chaine turns, multiple pirouettes, fouttes, etc., and then a bit of partnering. It gave the students a chance to show what they could do — and the advanced ones could do a great deal! Extremely impressive, and great fun.

Then on were Xiomara Reyes and Herman Cornejo doing an excerpt from August Bournonville’s La Sylphide. This was the most dramatic I think I’ve ever seen Xiomara. I was sitting in the back of the orchestra and she really projected. She was really sweet. And Herman as always amazed with his virtuosity, his jumps, his razer-sharp precision, his astounding clarity of line.

The corps in both this, La Sylphide, and Swan Lake, later in the evening, were absolutely amazing, by the way. Not a head arched back more than the others, not a leg raised higher. They were all so on. When they work together like that, in perfect unity; it’s really visually breathtaking.

Then was Balanchine’s Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux danced by Ethan Stiefel and Gillian Murphy. Ethan and his strutting around stage, taking his own good time after their duet and before beginning his solo, making the conductor wait for him! And his high jumps with all miraculously many beats of the feet. I wished my friend Alyssa could have come so she could see he’s not just Mr. Sexy; he’s a superb dancer. And Gillian was radiant, and a perfect foil with her speed-of-light chaine turns. They enjoyed a long, slow kiss during the curtain call. The audience went mad!

Then was the hunt scene from Sylvia danced by Michele Wiles followed by a piece d’occasion (the first of two of the night), by Alexei Ratmansky, for Nina Ananiashvili, called Waltz Masquerade. It was set to the Waltz from Aram Khachaturian’s Masquerade Suite and it was cute and comical. She was dressed in this long, red dramatic, Carmen-like dress with a sexy black lace overlay on the top. There were four tuxedoed men, each bearing a gold candlelabra, one at each corner of the stage. These men turned out to be: Jose Carreno at the front left corner; Marcelo Gomes, at back left; Angel Corella back right; and a blonde on the front right who I initially thought was David Hallberg (I was sitting FAR back from the stage!) until the fun began and he shook his head about like a sassy mop and I realized DH just does not have enough goofball in him to do such a thing, even if he tried. So, I decided it was either Ethan or Maxim Beloserkovky. Anyway, Nina’s character was supposed to be dancing about the stage in a melodramatic solo — but it was purposefully melodramatic, and so comical. Like a silly, cartoon version of an upcoming swan song, really, which, is of course, what’s coming up for her later in the season (and will be much more sobering when it does). At one point, she just passionately crashes to the ground and remains there, in a heap. Nothing happens. The men, obviously her servants, start looking at each other like, what now? They shrug, slowly walk over to her. Then, Marcelo starts imitating her melodramatic dance, but far more cartoonishly, and of course it’s hilarious. The others join in. Max (I think it was Max, not Ethan) does his thrashing hair thing. I couldn’t see facial expressions but I assume they were making fun of their master. Then she wakes up, catches them, and they’re sent back to their posts.

After intermission was the balcony pas de deux from MacMillan’s Romeo and Juliet, danced by Marcelo and Diana Vishneva. At first, Diana approaches her balcony with all the drama of a ballerina playing Juliet, rather than Juliet herself. I rolled my eyes. This is what I don’t like about her. She’s an excellent dancer but she’s all about the pomp and circumstance and not about the character. Maybe it’s a Russian thing, but I don’t see that in Veronika Part or Irina Dvorovenko. Anyway, she eventually lightened up, thankfully, and I felt like I was watching not a prima ballerina being a prima ballerina but Juliet herself, falling hopelessly in love. When she runs around him one foot solid on the ground, the other on pointe, it’s so girlish, so real yet so poetic. Those are the best — I don’t know what to call them — runs around kneeling Romeo — that I’ve ever seen — not even Alessandra Ferri’s were that sweet. Still, I felt some of the lifts lacked the beauty and magic of  those Marcelo and Julie Kent do together when they dance this scene. I don’t feel she dances that well with a partner; she’s more into herself. Marcelo’s leaps around the stage and big high passionate jumps were thrilling. He got some good bravos for those.

Then were Paloma Herrera and Max Beloserkovsky in the Act II pas de deux from Swan Lake. I was hoping it’d be the Black Swan pdd, but no. I guess the program was pretty bravura-heavy already. I don’t see him dance much, but Max is really quite good. He’s really a character and he’s the perfect Prince Siegfried, regal yet vulnerable and tragically in love. And he’s a good partner.

Then was the mad fun of Le Corsaire, with Irina Dvorovenko, David Hallberg as Conrad, and Angel Corella as Ali. Except something happened at the beginning and I hope David’s okay. The tallest guy in the entire opera house had to sit in front of me and I was trying to navigate my way around his enormous head just as a bunch of people up front went “Oooooooh!” When I was finally able to see the stage, Irina was standing in front of David, face toward the audience. She didn’t seem to have any particular expression on her face, but, then, I was light years away from her. Then David did an assisted pirouette with her and everyone applauded, so it must have been a lift that didn’t quite happen or something. Anyway, I hope he’s okay; I know his shoulder sometimes comes out of socket. Anyway, all seemed to be fine after that: all three were brilliant. Of course. Angel astounded, as always, and I started giggling during his first solo and couldn’t stop all the way through the second. I love Irina. She was radiant. She did those continuous turning kicks on pointe like they were nothing. She has the drama and the virtuosity when needed and the always beautiful, graceful lines. And David’s leaps all over the stage were magnificent. I could see this goofy ballet over and over and over again, as long as no one gets hurt Angel did not leap out from behind the curtain during curtain call, sadly.

Then there was another piece d’occasion. Herbie Hancock played piano, onstage, while first Jose Carreno, then Stella Abrera, danced to his music. This was cute and comical as well, and kind of reminiscent of Jerome Robbins’s Other Dances or Suite of Dances, where the dancer(s) connect mainly with the musician. At one point, Hancock went nuts with the keys, obviously way too fast to be danceable, and Jose stopped in his tracks, looked over at him, and lifted his hands, like what gives, dude? He sat down near the base of the piano and just rested. The same happened with Stella. She danced, then stopped and gave Hancock a look when he began another little virtuoso section. She finally sat down beside him on the piano bench, and eventually, he ended on a romantic note, she snuggling next to him softly, sweetly.

The evening ended with the finale of Balanchine’s Theme and Variations. The leads were danced by Sarah Lane and Daniil Simkin. It was a nice way to end the program, but with the likes of Simkin, I wondered why they only did that group finale, where he and Sarah are basically leading a processional, instead of some of the earlier bravura parts with all the corkscrew turns for the man. An opening night gala performance is meant at least in part to showcase the dancers doing what they do best, and he is best at the bravura stuff, not leading processionals.

Anyway, the whole night, as usual, was magic. Saw Sigourney Weaver and Kelly Ripa in the audience.

Oh, for my Dancing With the Stars readers, I taped the show, but for lord knows what reason it was somehow muted. I have no idea how on earth I managed to do such a thing, but it was pretty amusing watching the show in pure silence — no words, no music. Needless to say, I’ll have to watch online tomorrow.

But now, dead tired, must sleep. Goodnight.

I was in the bookstore the other day looking for literary magazines and somehow got caught up in the latest issue of Vogue Hommes International. I’ve been a fan of Keanu Reeves all the way back since River’s Edge (honestly) and I saw on the cover that there was an interview inside with Bret Easton Ellis (novelist, Less Than Zero, American Psycho, Glamorama, etc. etc.) Interview with BEE is pretty funny, actually, in a way it likely wasn’t intended to be. IE: interviewer: So, you were an icon in, like the 80’s. BEE: Yeah, it was hard being an icon. And confusing. Seriously. I’d get in a fight with my boyfriend and I’d be like, wait, you can’t criticize me; I’m an icon!” But my favorite BEE quote is here.

Anyway, I was flipping through and there are all these little mini interviews with and photos of writers (Stefan Merrill Block too!), architects, actors and filmmakers, of course designers and models.

(French actor / filmmaker Louis Garrel by Bruce Weber, images from here)

But not a single dancer anywhere. Why not? They’d make such good models

(photos of Sebastien Marcovici and Robert Fairchild by Paul Kolnik, from NYCB website)

(Jose Carreno and Roberto Bolle by Tommy Ng, from ExploreDance)

(David Hallberg and Herman Cornejo in Gene Schiavone pic, from here)

(Sergey Surkov, my photo; Slavik Kryklyvyy from here)

(Arunas Bizokas, my photo; Linas Koreiva, from here and here)

Vogue Hommes should so hire me to compile a dancer spread! Fabrizio Ferri can do the pictures. Maybe Bruce Weber, though he can get kind of cliched and corny… No, Fabrizio.

Then, yesterday, I saw Valentino: The Last Emperor, which was pretty good. The Dolce Vita-esque scenes were the best   And it reminded me of Fashion Week’s being moved from Bryant Square to Lincoln Center, and I thought how excellent (and fitting of course) it would be to have NYCB and ABT ballerinas as the models, an idea Kristin Sloan had proposed on the Winger a while back. Ballerinas generally have far better bodies than models. Come on!

(Stella Abrera, photo by Nancy Ellison, taken from here)

(Irina Dvorovenko, from ABT website)

(Janie Taylor, by Paul Kolnik, from ExploreDance)

How sweet would Janie look in this Valentino gown (middle, pink, image from here)

And Irina in this (image, here):

(Daniil Simkin, photographer unknown, taken from here)

(headshot from ABT)

Last night was the New York debut of ABT’s newest star soloist, Russian-born, Daniil Simkin. He danced the Tico-Tico section of Company B, which I wrote about here, and which is going to be a dance I can tell will grow on me each time I see it. Tico Tico is probably the solo with the most bravura theatrics, and it suited him well. He has a small, compact body and can go very high on those jumps, really sail around the floor on those barrel turns. But the solo is also jazzy, and he pulled off the softer, subtler elements as well. At the solo’s end he got huge applause from the crowd, and more whooting applause mid-dance (which rarely happens with dance crowds these days) in the very last ensemble section, when he went whizzing halfway up to the ceiling in a twisty turning jump. “That little one was sure something!” exclaimed a couple of women as we left the theater.

My only thing — and this goes for the whole cast, not just him — at the end of the male solos, each man falls to the floor. This is meant to show that they’ve died in war. It it only their spirits that are dancing; the duets are the memories of the women they’ve left behind; the solos are ghosts. So, the dance on its surface is fun and frivolity with jazzy music and pretty girls and the whole nine yards, but there’s underlying tragedy, which gives the dance its power.

(photo, Company B, Andrea Mohin, from NYTimes)

On the way out of the theater a woman was complaining to her friend that the ABT dancers “aren’t doing it right; it’s not clear they’ve fallen,” she said. And I agree. At the end of Daniil’s solo, he raised his arms and pushed back from the waist while disappearing into the wings as if he was hit in the stomach by a bullet. But he wore the same happy carefree smile as he had throughout the whole solo (likely because the audience could tell he was finishing, the cheers were beginning to sound and he’d just finished his NYC debut), so you’d never know he’d been shot. But it wasn’t just him — others in this cast did the same. I think the first cast, and especially Herman Cornejo, gave those moments more gravity and pathos. I still don’t know if it was enough though — something tells me people missed the war leitmotif altogether — but it was more. Don’t know how much is enough, really. I’ve never seen Paul Taylor’s company perform it so it’s hard to tell the choreographer’s original intent. You definitely don’t want to overdo it or it becomes preachy. It has to be subtle.

Anyway, I will look forward to seeing Simkin again next week in the Russian ballet, Flames of Paris (Ratmansky, woo hoo!) which I’m, obviously, immensely excited about. Simkin, by the way, keeps a blog; it looks like he updates his Twitter feed more often than the posts.

Also on were Antony Tudor’s Pillar of Fire and Jiri Kylian’s Overgrown Path. This was my first time seeing Pillar and I found it absolutely riveting.

(photo of Marcelo Gomes and Gillian Murphy in Pillar, taken from here).

The ballet’s from 1942 and the story’s dated — girl longs for good boy, good boy’s into her sister, girl doesn’t want to grow up to be spinster like older sis, so goes for bad boy who takes her virginity and “ruins” her, so that when good boy leaves brainless sis and comes around, she’s damaged goods. This results in tragedy; she can now only have good boy in her dreams, in the moonlight. At least that was my interpretation.

The great thing about Tudor, dated as this story is, is that he’s so dramatic, his drama comes from within, within the body. You can tell his dancers have to spend so much time working out the characters, and everything is made so clear not so much by facial expressions, but by body movement and posturing and gestures — which is dance, after all. David Hallberg as the good boy (I know, immensely annoying — good boy is shiny American blonde, bad boy is big dark Brazilian Marcelo; there are also “lovers of innocence” blonde and wearing white nightgowns and “lovers of experience” dark-haired and dressed in ’slutty’ gypsy-like attire, but we won’t go there for the time being) has this quick, rushed gait, so that he passes right by Gillian’s heroine, paying no attention whatsoever to her body, contorted and hunched-over from the waist, cramp-like, with pain. Marcelo definitely notices her, and throughout he keeps doing this thing, rubbing his hands with the flat of his palms on both sides of his groin. It’s so sexual and so sexy and so threatening. I kept bolting upright and leaning forward every time he did it, and had to keep reminding myself, this is City Center, you move a millimeter and you’re blocking every single head behind you.

Marcelo was Marcelo, perfectly in character as always, and Gillian blew me (and the audience, judging by the substantial applause) away with her inner development and tragic portrayal of heroine Hagar. Only thing lacking (apart from the stereotypical casting and costuming), and just a smidgen, was David, in the beginning. His walk was perfect (Tudor concentrated greatly on gaits as a revealer of character), but he was a bit too severe. I couldn’t really see how Gillian’s Hagar was so enthralled with him. He seemed like a jerk the way he ignored her. Then, when he comes around to her, he slows it down, but then he has his regular pointy-footed, slightly hip-swaying, rumba-esque walks. It’s quintessential sexy David, but I don’t know if it’s this character.

(photo of Overgrown Path by Andrea Mohin, from NYTimes)

The only piece that wasn’t to my liking was Kylian’s Path. They’re putting it on this season because Kylian made it in honor of Tudor, who considered the Czech choreographer his artistic grandson, and the season is devoted to Tudor. It just seemed too one-note, too dreary, without a serious drama you could latch onto. It’s meant to evoke sadness and pathos — is set to piano music by Leos Janacek, who composed the piece (On an Overgrown Path) not long after losing his son, then daughter, and you see a set of women who seem to be mourners, heads hung down, at times reaching out into the air as if in vain, and a young woman dances several duets with a man (Jose Carreno, who, weirdly, couldn’t even save the ballet for me), then disappears into the curtains. I don’t know, maybe I wasn’t in the mood, maybe it’ll grow on me, because I’ve certainly liked other things Kylian has done.

The company has a mini-website devoted to Tudor, where you can view videos and pictures here.

(Herman Cornejo above; all headshots from ABT)

So, last night was opening night of ABT’s fall Contemporary season (which will last for the next two weeks) at City Center. I love galas, for the most part: I love seeing all my favorite dancers in the best excerpts from my favorite ballets. Although the only piece that really fit that tonight was Jose Manuel Carreno dancing the bravura pas de deux in Don Quixote with Xiomara Reyes. I am such a child; I again got a bad case of the giggles the second he stepped onstage — both during the duet and then when he had his leaping, fouetteing, barrel-turning solo — this always happens with Jose — and really had to control myself; I was sitting only a few seats down from Kevin McKenzie (who is thin — most go the opposite way after they stop dancing — and as I mentioned before, behind Alessandra). Anyway, see a video here of Jose dancing DQ with Paloma Herrera.

(above: Jose Carreno)

First, because it’s most on my mind since it was the only piece (performed in its entirety) on the second half of the program: Company B, choreographed by Paul Taylor, which I LOVED. I’d never seen it before: it’s a jazzy modern piece (no toe shoes) set to several 40s era songs by The Andrews Sisters (like Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company B). Both song and dance are cute and fun on their surfaces, but in the background from time to time a line of men march slowly, their bodies at the back of the stage, in shadowed silhouette. Some of them hold what appear to be guns. Some hold their arms up as in surrender. They are going off to war (timely then — during the era of the songs, timely now). But you almost don’t notice them. At points, a sweet romantic duet will be centerstage, and one of these men will join the dancers, flying happily about the stage, along with them, then suddenly slam to the ground, as if shot. Because of the marked contrast between fun and play and love, and being shot dead in the line of battle, the background war theme is all the more poignant.

Herman Cornejo stood out to me here. He was cutely carefree, leaping about (as usual, halfway to the ceiling, though the height seemed like pure coincidence, like he hadn’t meant to go that high at all, it was just natural for him), then is left sadly, starkly alone in the end, without the girl, without his carefree ways, and perhaps eventually without life (at times he is also one of the silhouettes in the background). Herman used to be all about huge jumps and leaps and turns to me, but he’s grown hugely as an artist, and now the jumps and leaps and turns are all done in the furtherance of character, though no less awe-inducing. He grows on me each time I see him perform. The Taylor piece was perfect for him. And, as I said, it’s timely and I’m thrilled ABT’s chosen to put it on this season. It’s showing several more times and I can’t wait to see it again and again.

The first half of the program consisted mainly of excerpts (except for Craig Salstein’s excellent Time, which I’ll get to in a sec); in addition to DQ, there was Balanchine’s Theme and Variations performed by my favorite, Marcelo Gomes, and Paloma Herrera. When, at the beginning of a solo, Marcelo walked out onstage and kind of looked out at us, it looked like he was looking right at me. How does he do that? How does a performer do that? It’s uncanny! When Kevin then came out and gave his little thank-you to all the gala sponsors, he did the same thing. Angel Corella does it too. Hmmm.

Anyway, Marcelo was excellent, of course. The far-too-shy crowd was ridiculously late in applauding his series of 15 or so continuous twisty multiple-turning-jumps. American audiences, argh! Marcelo is the quintessential romantic leading man, as I’ve said about 10,000 times throughout the course of this blog  — the way he lifted Paloma about every which way, all over his head; partnering is his forte. But, because of his size, you can tell when the choreography is really fast

(Marcelo Gomes)

(David Hallberg)

Second on was a scene from Romeo and Juliet (when Romeo leaves Verona), danced by David Hallberg and Gillian Murphy. But this R&J was not the one I’m used to, the one by MacMillan; it was choreographed by Antony Tudor (whom the company is honoring this season; it would have been his 100th birthday this year). Tudor’s R&J is much more dramatic than pashmina, without all the flourishes and breathtaking lifts, but instead with lots of yearning arabesques where the dancers lean toward each other, balancing on the tip of their toes, nearly falling forward, longing but seemingly unable to reach the other. It was passionate in its own sad way and makes me look forward to more Tudor.

(Craig Salstein)

And then there was Time, a new piece by well-liked soloist Craig Salstein, a short solo, danced by Michele Wiles. I think this piece marks his choreographic debut. It was originally made in December 2007 for Dancers Responding to AIDS. I loved it. It was soft and lyrical but had modern elements as well, such as short, staccato movements of the arms and legs, and a frontward leaning arch, with arms extending up and back, like a bird taking flight, reminiscent of Alvin Ailey or Martha Graham. Michele danced with a sorrowful passion; it was hauntingly beautiful. As its name and the group it was created for implied, it felt like a woman struggling hard to extend her time here on earth. She would reach upward toward the heavens, but in vain, and she kept brushing her right leg backward, as if trying to brush off a negative thought, a harsh reality. Later, she would dance with fluidity and grace, in acceptance. And the movements would repeat themselves, like they would psychologically in someone who is grieving: denial, anger, acceptance, denial, anger, acceptance. To me, this one little work showed that Craig has wonderful originality, understands how to build structure, understands different kinds of movement and what they do, and has a strong sense of how to convey what he is trying to convey to the audience and really move us. BRAVO CRAIG!!! And brava Michele!

There was a little more, but these were my favorites. Also, Gillian Murphy and Jared Matthews impressed me last night. I don’t know exactly why because she’s always technically brilliant, but Gillian just shined last night; everything she did brought my attention right to her, even when she was surrounded by many others; she just had an extra glow. And Jared I’ve always seen as kind of the skinny blonde guy who blends in with everyone else, but he is looking more and more polished, dancing with greater and greater sharpness and precision and standing out for those reasons — and he was looking even rather majestic last night.

is almost here!

Yesterday I finally had the chance to check out the new Twyla Tharp ballet at ABT. Overall, I thought there were exciting parts, and I recognized a lot of elements from her other work, but the sum of the parts didn’t really add up to a compelling whole. I also thought it was very well acted and danced by my favorite But more on that in a minute. First, let me talk a bit about “Etudes,” which I LOVED, and which was on first.

“Etudes,” by Harald Lander of the Royal Danish Ballet, made in 1948, was a radiant celebration of ballet. It started with very young dancers likely from the Jacqueline Kennedy School of Ballet associated with ABT, then curtains went down and rose again to reveal a set of older dancers warming up at the barre. There were three barres set up in a kind of half-pentagon that opened out toward the audience. The lighting was dark except for a white light shined on their legs. They simply did warm up tendus (points of the toe) to front, out to side, then rondes (circlings of the floor with the leg), then swinging kicks, etc. Basic warm-up vocabulary. But they were all in perfect unison and each set of several dancers pointed, swung, rondeed, etc. in a different direction, making for a mesmerizing effect. At times it looked like a Rockettes routine.

Later, tutued ballerinas, more advanced and ready to learn performance technique, came out and did their own warm-up, the lights making their black puffed-skirts looking almost like upside-down ladies’ wigs from afar. It made for a really cool visual effect. Soon, the barres were taken away and, like in a real class, the floor work began. One set of dancers performed a series of high jumps in place, then began flying across the stage in a diagonal line, doing grand jetes, the men eventually doing barrel turns around its perimeter (my favorite ).

(Irina headshot from ABT website)

A prima ballerina, in my version, Irina Dvorovenko — a role perfect for her- emerged in splendid white tutu accompanied by two men, one (Cory Stearns) her princely danseur noble, the other (Jared Matthews) a more bravura type (who performs high, thrilling jumps, fast turns, etc.) — all three the main ingredients of classical ballet. They danced a perfect pas de trois, and at times from my vantage point in the middle orchestra, Irina looked like a tiny china doll atop a child’s music box. She was sheer perfection and the quintessential classical prima ballerina. I like Cory and Jared but don’t think either has the star power, at least at this point (they are both still young) to be her equal.

At first I thought how much more thrilling the ballet would have been with someone like David Hallberg in the princely role and Angel Corella or Herman Cornejo as the virtouso. And then I realized they all would have completely stolen the show. The focus, in this man-centric company, should be on the ballerina for a change! And Irina is the perfect ballerina for that focus.

Anyway, who ever knew simple classical ballet vocabulary, a celebration of the dance from class to performance, could be so captivating? But it was. And the audience ate it up right along with me and went nuts with applause, so I know it wasn’t just me. A great introduction to the thrill and beauty of the art form for people new to ballet, IMO.

(top photo Marcelo, bottom Jose, both from ABT website)

Now, onto the new Tharp. First, I must say I am beyond overjoyed whenever I get to see either Marcelo Gomes or Jose Carreno onstage, and both had major parts in this ballet, so I was basically on ecstasy And of course they both danced marvelously, Marcelo, I think, to an extent saving the ballet with his dramatic skills.

Tharp named it “Rabbit and Rogue,” but it could have been named Everything Tharp But the Kitchen Sink. As in her “In the Upper Room,” at times the dancers appeared to emerge right out of the woodwork, the dark back lighting making the back seem wall-less. There was the pretend playful boxing from that ballet, the poor little fellow who humorously gets beat up by his girl from “Baker’s Dozen,” the balletic vocabulary fighting for space with social dance from “Deuce Coupe.” It’s like she just combined several of her ballets into one.

Anyway, from what I can make of the story-line, it’s something like this: Rogue (Marcelo) and Rabbit (Sascha Radetsky) play-fight with each other, over what I’m not entirely sure, but I think it’s who has the better dance style. Rogue is more modern, moves with more angularity, virility, and solid form; Rabbit is more soft and wiggly, moves in more of a jazzy, not-a-care-in-the-world manner. Rogue as danced by Marcelo seemed more competitive (but in a cutely jocular way) with Rabbit than Rabbit did with Rogue; Rabbit seemed to care less about Rogue’s little jabs and taunts. But this could have been because Marcelo is more of an actor than Sascha…

Anyway, a pair called The Rag Couple (the excellent Kristi Boone, and Cory Stearns again — he must have been tired at the end of the day!) dressed in snazzy black, dance a sexy little number composed of swingy, jazzy elements and a little ballet. I guess they are supposed to represent sinners or denizens of the underworld. The corps emerge dressed in black. Marcelo returns (he and Sascha are also dressed in black unitards with a silver stripe down the side) and dances alone but seems to compete with the corps for attention. At one point, he shuffles off the stage into the wings shrugging and extending a hand outward toward the corps as if indicating he’s given up trying to compete with them and they can have our full attention. Of course the way Marcelo does this is hilarious.

There was a group of four women, probably aged between about 45 and 80 — perhaps a group of sisters taking their mother to the ballet– sitting behind me and the three younger women loved Etudes but the older woman complained it wasn’t her thing; she liked more of a story. When Marcelo made this action, she laughed and shouted I think a little louder than she meant to, “now, this is more my thing!” Her “daughters” giggled and shushed her.

Later, the corps disappear during one of Marcelo’s and Sasha’s alternating solos, only to emerge (again from the wall-less back, as if straight out of the air) now dressed in shiny silvery white. This entourage is led by Jose Carreno (:)) and Maria Riccetto, dancing a pair of characters the program notes call The Gamelan Couple, who dance beautifully together, their vocabularly all ballet. Except it’s not classical ballet. He keeps doing fish dives with her, but with his butt to the audience so you can only see her legs peeking out from behind him. So it’s backwards. (In a way, perhaps Etudes was an ideal ballet to show before this one, since one esteems the classical, the other questions it a bit). This couple represents to me a heavenly ideal, which reminded me again of “Deuce Coupe,” as if it’s the ballet couple who are pure and the social dancers who are cool and fun but a little wild and perhaps bastardize the form a bit. Maybe. Anyway, eventually a group of four — two women, two men — emerge and try to partner each other, sometimes successfully, sometimes not.

(Craig photo from ABT)

Poor Craig Salstein, reprising his “Baker’s Dozen” role as the hapless little fellow, who tries to dance with his partner, the normally sweet Sarah Lane. He’d rather tango, but she’d rather ballet (if I can use that as a verb), and they fight and the poor little guy ends up getting beat up a bit by his lady. Eventually, he gives in and dances a very off pas de deux with her, throwing her up in the air like a rag doll. It’s hilarious the way Craig does it; only he can pull it off.

Later, Marcelo returns doing his competitive thing, Sascha comes back, does his dance, more ensemble work,, etc. At one point, Craig holds his hands up in the air looking toward the heavens and mimics, “why me, God, why me?” then shakes his head, helplessly. It’s now apparent he’s the angel sent down to earth to teach Marcelo and Sascha how to behave like proper dancers and stop the ridiculous bickering. Apparently part of their coming together is to learn to partner women because they’ve both been dancing alone throughout and suddenly Craig throws Misty Copeland at them, they throw her around a bit between each other, partnering her weirdly, but I guess not dropping her on her head or anything hugely untoward. Eventually, everyone is happy. They have proven they are good partners who can share the spotlight with a woman, like the perfect Jose can with Maria. (I am probably projecting all manner of my own crap into this, but I don’t know what else to make of this ballet, although I have to say, I’m liking it more the more I’m trying to interpret it). In the end, Marcelo and Sascha shake hands and wave to the audience and all is well; angel Craig has saved the day. The score, by Danny Elfman, was riveting; at times I kind of felt like I was in a Danny Elfman movie, the way the ballet created kind of an over-the-top alternative universe / fantasy world.

By the way, on my way to the store for ice cream afterward, I overheard a young woman talking on her cell phone pronounce Misty “kick ass,” which she was, as always.

(Andrea Mohin photo of Herman Cornejo, in black, dancing the part of Rabbit opening night, from New York Times).

(photo by Rosalie O’Connor, of Craig in white, Ethan Steifel on top and Herman on bottom, from ABT website)

Reviews have really been mixed. My “colleague” at HuffPost, Patricia Zohn, liked it, Sir Alastair did not, Philip found both good and bad in it. Anyone else?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(photo by Fabrizio Ferri)

Julio!!! Today I trekked all the way out to the end of the 2 line, to Brooklyn College’s Performing Arts Auditorium, to see Julio Bocca’s very final performance in the United States. Julio, Argentinian ballet legend who spent most of his career with American Ballet Theater and who just retired from ABT last year (see my bizillion photos of that splendid event here), danced one final year with the ballet / tango company he founded in Argentina, Ballet Argentino, and is now permanently retiring from dance. His final performance is to be in Argentina next month. He’s 40 years old.

He’s so great. Watching him today made me sad again, remembering last year’s farewell. He looked really good, more in his element today actually than toward the end of his ABT days. He looked really happy and at ease. And he’s let his hair grow out, which to me looks a lot better than short:

At the end, in the final curtain call, he came out in a white bathrobe. At ABT’s final bow, he came out in tights only and had a beer, at one point pouring it all over himself. This curtain call was about 1/100th the length of last year’s, and I’m thinking it’s in large part because the theater was filled with regular Brooklyn College-ites and not Bocca fans. Several people around me exclaimed that they’d never seen the auditorium so packed. They didn’t seem to know…

Anyway, the performance, “Bocca Tango” was a series of balletic tangos, most very beautiful, some cute and humorous.

Julio shined in his solos, in which he danced gorgeous contemporary balletic pieces, one with a table as prop / set, and the other with a ladder. The ladder was my overall favorite, as, judging from the applause, was the audience’s.

The way he worked that ladder, snaking his body through the rungs, hurling himself onto a step and acrobatically throwing his legs up and over his body where they landed on a top bar. It was incredible, and looked very risky.

He also did a few duets with a female partner, and a couple with a male, in which he danced the female part. All pas de deux involved a combination of tango and ballet, so among all of the partnerships, including the male / male, there was both straight tango dancing and beautiful lifts. Julio makes a really lovely follower / ballerina There was also a group number involving several couples, two male / female, one male / male (involving Julio again as ‘the feminine’). The male / male duets weren’t really homoerotic or romantic though; they were more cute and playful.

My favorite duet overall was one he danced with a woman to a swift allegro, a kind of milonga-style tango combined with swingy balletic lifts. They were both dressed in light blue — he shirtless and in pastel pants, she in a flowing knee-length baby blue dress. Both barefoot. Much of the partner dancing was barefoot, which I prefer to the typical high tango heels. It’s more natural, you can see the shape of the leg better when the dancer goes on releve (ball of foot), and of course the beauty of the foot itself. Plus, I think it’s easier to dance in bare feet, even if you’re on releve the whole time. He had another seductive number with another woman, both of them dressed only in underwear. The lights were very dimmed so you couldn’t really make out much besides the outlines of their bodies, making it all the more sensuous, in my opinion.

It was of course an irreplaceable experience to see Julio perform, but as far as the choreography went, after about the first hour, everything began to look the same: same overhead lifts, same tango steps, same combinations. I think the choreographer (Ana Maria Stekelman) could work to vary the choreography more, come up with some more original, more poetic lifts at least. And I haven’t taken much tango, but this seemed pretty basic. Luis Brava’s “Forever Tango” had a lot more variety. In Brava’s show, which I saw three or four years ago, I remember seeing a man lift his partner overhead, then, continuing to carry her, do chaine turns (continuous two-footed turns) diagonally across the room. It was breathtaking. I’ve never seen anything like it since.

I still can’t believe this was Julio’s final performance…

Saturday night, Apollinaire and I went to the Baryshnikov Arts Center in Hell’s Kitchen to see one of the best flamenco performances I’ve ever seen, Maria Pages’s “Self Portrait.” Brilliant! Those bewitching hands! Those boneless wrists! How does she do it? She made me want to take flamenco again so badly.

One thing I really love about flamenco is how the band is part and parcel of the dance. Far from being stuck down in some orchestra pit, they sat adjacent to the stage, four band members on each side, their gaze concentrated on Maria. There was one male singer, one female, and instruments included drums, guitars (obviously) but even a cello! Apollinaire and I both remarked we’d never seen such an instrument at a flamenco performance before. The singing, especially the man (although Apollinaire loved the woman) was gorgeous. I don’t know that much about world music or dance (other than the little Latin I’ve taken) but the man’s singing sounded very Indian, not at all Spanish. Both song and dance seem filled with so much anguish and sorrow, but also celebration and immense beauty.

There were also two male dancers who accompanied Maria at points, and of course I went wild over their insanely fast footwork. Plus, one looked quite a bit like Herman, with long, black boyish curls. Irresistible!

The night was made all the more fun by the salon / cafe-style setting. Instead of a regular theater, they had set up little round tables surrounded by folding chairs, and they sold champagne (only $4 per cup!) and little nut mixes that you could bring into the “theater” with you. The relaxed atmosphere made you want to tap your feet to the infectious rhythm, clap your hands, snap your fingers, shout “Ole” and try to sing along with the band. I want more of these kinds of things! The last two numbers were danced to a remake of John Lennon’s “Imagine” (which is amazingly flamenco-friendly — who knew?!), and then the band members all began chanting and kind of cutely cajoling Maria into dancing some more. Their voices sounded like a kind of flamenco rap! So much fun.

Another highlight:

The man himself Not onstage, but in the audience, front center. From where I was sitting, I had the perfect view of him and I couldn’t stop watching. I broke out into giggles at several points as well. He’s so cute. He wears his hair all mussed about and has a trendy goatee and he’s still very small and dancerly, so from afar he looks just like he always did; it’s only when you get up close you see all the lines on his face. When we were in the lobby and Apollinaire was taking care of the press tickets while I was placing my alcohol order, he walked in. The ticket collector called out to him. “Misha,” she called him! Not Mr. Baryshnikov!!! I know he probably told all of his employees to call him by his nickname, but still! Anyway, more cafe-style, participatory Latin dance events with Baryshnikov within reach please please

Finally, this has nothing to do with Latin dance or ballet legends or even dance in general, but while I’m on the subject of my crazy weekend, on Friday night my friend Alyssa, whose friend does PR for The Big Apple Circus, invited me to their gala. I haven’t been to the circus since high school, and I’ve never been to any gala event. Beforehand in the lobby they had very chi-chi hors d’oeuvres like mini duck tacos, along with open bar and cotton candy Then they gave us box dinners while we watched the show.

Mmmm

Alyssa enjoys a glass of wine with dinner.

Show was fun – -nothing big with elephants or tigers, but there were some good gymnasts and really cute dogs. I know I should probably be against any use of animals, but they were just so cute…

As long as they’re treated well… This lady had these adorable poodles walking on their hind legs carrying various objects. At one point a poodle came out dressed in an old lady’s moomoo and, walking on its hind legs holding a leash connected to a cat, walked the cat around the perimeter of the tent. Alyssa and I were laughing so hard we were crying.

Then, they had these amazing acrobats. This duo reminded me of David and Marcelo mainly I guess because of their hair color. Marcelo lay down on his back, raised his feet in the air, and kicked David all about, sending him into these continuous magnificient air sommersaults!

Sorry about the blur. I didn’t want to hurt anyone by turning on my flash.

There was a great belly / hoola dancer.

And these bronzed people who did these crazy lifts.

Christopher Meloni from Law & Order: SVU, and Meredith Viera, were the celebrity ringleaders.

Hehe, fun night! After the show, they brought out a mat and covered the show area with an array of desserts. It was like midnight buffet on a cruise ship. They had every kind of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream bar imaginable, an enormous cake with “Big Apple Circus” written all over it, cookies, chocolate-covered fruit, brownies, everything. I didn’t feel so well when I walked out of there to be honest. I do wonder how this compares to ABT’s galas…

Just finishing my City Center-spectating season and am so sad. I hate this time of year. My favorite dance company is gone and I won’t be seeing them again until May. Oh well.

I went to the last three performances (Friday night, Saturday matinee, Saturday night); here are my highlights:

(photo of Herman Cornejo by Joe McNally from ABT website; all headshots from ABT)

I really loved all of the dancers who performed my favorite short ballroomy ballet — Tharp’s “Sinatra Suite” — but yesterday Herman and Misty Copeland (in headshot above) in particular took my breath away. Herman was the closest thing to Baryshnikov that I’ve seen, in terms of the actual movement (he has the smallest body of the three men who danced the role — other two were Jose and Marcelo — thus the closest in body type to Baryshnikov). The piece was choreographed on Baryshnikov and some of the movement, like the quick, jumpy weight shift in the first song, looked the cleanest on Herman; whereas Marcelo, for example, almost couldn’t move fast enough and missed a beat. But what Marcelo and Jose may lack a bit in that department, they more than make up for in the over-the-top personality they give to the role, particularly in the “That’s Life” song. In fact, everyone seemed to be able to do the “That’s Life” cocky shithead guy very (almost frighteningly) well; it’s the other three songs: “Strangers in the Night,” “All the Way,” and “My Way,” where they seem a little more bland, seeming to play the same guy three times. To me the first song (“Strangers”) is about two people just meeting and falling for each other, the second (“All the Way”) actually falling in love, the third (“Life”) having a problem moment, and the fourth (“My Way”) his saying he needs to go it alone, then the fifth, the male solo danced to “One for My Baby,” evokes his missing her. It seems like all the men danced to each of those songs besides “Life”, played each of those roles, the same way: all classy and romancy, giving only cocky “That’s Life” guy something unique.

Misty danced the female role better than I’ve ever seen it done, including by Elaine Kudo, who danced the original with Baryshnikov. That girl had personality galore and was not about to let the guy get away with anything. Go Misty! The others seemed to let the guy push them around too much. But again, I focus on “That’s Life.” She didn’t seem to do anything breathtaking in the other three duets. It’s funny, ballet dancers normally dance dreamy in-love princes and princesses, temple dancers and warriors, fairytale characters and their knights in shining armour — you think they’d be able to do a contemporary romantic routine?…

Anyway, Misty also floored me with her performance in Tharp’s “Baker’s Dozen,” which I ended up seeing a total of four times. In my final viewing of it yesterday, Misty danced the part of the flirty girl who keeps hopping on poor Craig’s unsuspecting back. She was so fun and playful, proved to have just as much charisma as Craig, and she just has a natural jazz body. If I was Twyla, I’d definitely choreograph everything new I did from here on out on Misty; she is THE female Tharp dancer.

Also, when I first saw this ballet I wrote that I felt the company wasn’t putting everything they had into it, but suspected that may be because it was a brand new one for them. After having seen it numerous times now, I know I was right. They’re doing so much better, they’re really nailing the teasing / sexy / cool / jazzy / clownish / playful / swingy nature of it all. What a fun ballet! Craig still stands out, but in a ballet like this that requires solid acting skill, it’s almost unfair to compare anyone else to him, he’s such a natural. If he wasn’t a ballet dancer, I’m positive he’d be enjoying a very successful Broadway career.

(do not ask why these photos are varying sizes; I’m simply copying them from ABT’s website and have no clue what kinds of codes they’ve written in or what kind of codes my blog software is somehow putting in! It just so happens that pictures of Marcelo come out the largest, I swear! Above are Marcelo and Julie in “Leaves”)

Yesterday, I had my first ever viewing of Antony Tudor’s 1975 ballet, “The Leaves Are Fading,” which the company has revived for this season. Wow, it was really beautiful, albeit in a bittersweet kind of way. It began with a woman coming out onstage wearing a long, green ballroom dress. She walked around as if deep in thought, reminiscing. She left and several male and female dancers entered all wearing pinky-peach costumes — the women in flowing summery dresses, the men in blousy tops with sweet gentlemanly little silk scarves. The group danced lyrically as an ensemble then broke into duets, each seeming to symbolize a different time in a relationship — young innocent love, then slightly older and more fraught with angst, then more mature; and Marcelo and Julie, my favorite partnership (have I said that before? ) danced the main, more mature couple. They dance so beautifully together, she just floats in his arms so effortlessly, so romantic, so poetic. The backdrop and wings were painted various shades of green, as if to evoke a field, and the pink costumes made the dancers almost look like flowers at points. At the end, green dress woman re-enters, her presence framing her memories, coming to terms with them, making clear they are about a past youthful love that no longer exists but will always remain part of her. Fittingly teary end to my own emotional farewell to ABT season! It was so lovely you just get caught up in the images, in the feelings they evoke. They didn’t have many performances of this ballet and I only got one chance to see it, so I hope they put it on again next year. I’d really like to see it again.

Finally, this year the company revived Agnes de Mille’s “Fall River Legend,” based on the true life story of Lizzie Borden, who killed her parents with an axe after their severe abuse of her. I saw this ballet on Friday night with Apollinaire, who loved it. Go here for a little write-up on that (read the “Note,” at the end of this post; also read the post for her review of Ballet du Grand Theater du Geneve, which I saw with her (and really liked!) but haven’t had a chance to review yet). Anyway, I personally didn’t care much for the de Mille. I feel that she only presented a partial story, leaving out the parental abuse that’s necessary to make sense of Lizzie’s actions. The ballet begins with Lizzie’s being sentenced to hang for her crime, then flashes back to her life. The flashback begins with her father being very loving toward Lizzy, then a sister dies and a stepmother enters the scene, who doesn’t much seem to like Lizzy, but doesn’t seem particularly horrible to her, and the father still seems to be loving albeit traumatized by the sister’s death. All of a sudden Lizzie is shown fighting the urge to hack up her dad and stepmom, then eventually succumbing to it. The rest of the ballet (the main part) is devoted to Lizzie being remorseful and haunted by what she has done, slowly accepting her fate. I agree with Apollinaire that Gillian Murphy was just amazing in this role — she perfectly captured the awkward outcast, making me both feel sorry for her Lizzie and fearing her. But, without the choreographer’s devoting any time to the family’s abuse of her, all of that great acting was unfortunately reduced to melodrama.

Lastly, I saw Benjamin Millepied’s “From Here on Out” again yesterday and it did grow slightly on me the second time around. I’m still far more in love with the Nico Muhly musical score though and can’t wait to get my hands on a recording of it. Again, I particularly liked the final third of the ballet, when the crescendo really starts to build. I feel like Millepied was really getting started just as he was ending. I really liked the second cast that I saw, led by Isabella Boylston and Cory Stearns. Isabella in particular was perfect at those angular abstract contemporary moves — I almost thought I was seeing NYCB (who does more abstract contemporary ballets) at points!; Isabella’s ideal for contemporary.

Well, I’ll be excited to hear what others, for example, in Berkeley, (for example, Jolene!!!), have to say about the new Millepied as well as the new Elo, “Close to Chuck.” Sad as I am about ABT leaving NY now, the good thing is they’re a touring company, so you don’t have to be in NY to see them. Go here to check their touring schedule. These are the greatest dancers in the world (Tidwell was once one of them, remember ); please do not pass up the opportunity to see them if they come near your neck of the woods!

Herman so good as sinatra just now!

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

A bit stuffy up here though. And they have run out of programs!

I’m still in a state of sugar shock. Like when you’re having a little meal of chocolate truffles (as some of us are occasionally wont to do ); the first couple make your blood race in a good way and you’re hyper-aware and -active, but then you have one too many and hyper-activity turns to jitters and your brain starts racing ahead of you and you have no coherent thoughts whatsoever? Anyway, too much going on last night! It was the world premiere of two new ballets: “Close To Chuck,” a collaboration between choreographer Jorma Elo, composer Philip Glass and artist Chuck Close (whose self-portrait is pictured above) in tribute to Close’s body of work. It was also the not premiere but second performance of a new ballet by NYCBallet dancer Benjamin Millepied called “From Here On Out,” set to new music by 20-something composer Nico Muhly, whom I talked about here.

These premieres are so much fun to be a part of, they’re such an event extraordinare. Practically everyone in the ballet world turns out. I’m so thankful to Apollinaire for inviting me since they were nearly sold out. We sat in front of Tobi Tobias — so fun putting a face to writing. I was hoping we’d see some other familiar dance writer names, but they must have been sitting on the other side of the theater. On our side were also NYCB ballerina Maria Kowroski and Tyler Angle, and some people who I recognized but couldn’t put names to, including a Paul Taylor dancer.

Okay, first things first: the evening began with another performance of choreographer Stanton Welch’s “Clear” again starring Jose Carreno, which I wrote about in my last post. Last time I saw him it was his debut in the role and I wrote that he concentrated more on the steps than the drama; this time I felt differently. I felt that he gave it much more emotion, was probably just getting the steps down the first time. I was also sitting on the right side of the theater instead of the left this time so I might have had a better view of his face. He danced it gorgeously, perfectly, emotionally, everything. I LOVE that ballet. The more I see it the more it evokes different things for me. Last night, it kind of reminded me of a more abstract version of Death in Venice, where the men, resplendent in pants that are skin-colored but have a bit of golden quality to their sheen, no shirts, have their arms and legs outstretched looking up to the heavens, as if they are both in worship and the objects of someone else’s worship (like the viewer’s). At other points, others of the men act silly and playful, covering their eyes with their hands, much like Tadzio (the older man’s muse and unrequited love interest in “Venice”), at times kind of bouncing around jovially zigzagging their heads. It goes from beautiful and poetic to cute and playful and back again, with the final pas de deux between the lead man and the ballerina ending in a beatific embrace, his head on her shoulder and her head pointed to the sky, her arm reaching upward. People have said they think the ballerina was superfluous, that Welch must have felt he needed to put her in because it was ballet. I thought about it and, though I think that ending scene is gorgeous, she was hardly in the ballet and she didn’t really seem to belong. Why not simply replace her with one of the other men, like one of the young sun-god, playfully flirty Tadzio-types, like the one danced by cute Jared Matthews? I know the ballerina on pointe has classically been the element bringing forth the poetic, but Welch’s whole point is that men in and of themelves can be so. Maybe he was afraid of it looking “gay,” or something, but, please, ballet audiences are more sophisticated than that.

Anyway, the fun thing about sitting on the right side of the theater is that it’s near the curtain, so when they pull it back and the dancers come out front for their curtain call, they’re right in front of you. Completely beyond surreal being that close to Jose. I love him so! You just want to reach out and touch… don’t worry I would never Oh, and then at the end of intermission, before the new “Close to Chuck” began, I spotted him in the back of the orchestra section, watching. I had to force myself to turn back to the front to see the ballet. Even standing there in a plain black t-shirt, the man just melts me.

(picture from Village Voice, of Angel Corella and Julie Kent in the leads, Herman Cornejo walking in background; I cc’d picture of Jose Carreno from ABT’s website in my last post, so won’t repeat it here).

Second on was the “Close to Chuck.” A disclaimer: I always get more out of a piece the more I go see it — I see all kinds of things I missed on first glance — so these are only my initial afterimages after viewing it only once. I have to say the costumes (by Ralph Rucci) and backdrop (various stages of a painting of Mr. Close’s Self Portrait pictured up top of this post) were so stunning, my focus was largely there. In future performances, I’ll pay more attention to the actual dancing The audience was abuzz. As the curtain lifted to reveal several people — Marcelo front and center, Herman to his left in back (this after Jose, both on stage and in audience is where my “truffles” were starting to go into overload…) — all covered neck to foot in shiny black, the bottom portion of the costume a long wide skirt for both men and women, the audience gasped in unison. As a curtain against the back wall lifted to reveal a sparsely filled-in black and white rudimentary etching of the portrait, a single person walked around stage, whipping off each dancer’s vest. The men were now shirtless, the women wearing black mesh leotards with a large black cross down the front and back. Everyone wore handless black gloves that started at the wrist, ended at the elbow. The costumes were very reminiscient to me of those used in Nacho Duato’s “Castrati” which I recently blogged about. They were very medieval, religious, but in a retro vogue way, not authentic like in the Duato. The long skirts for the men made Marcelo and Herman — two of the dance world’s most manly dancers– all the more striking, and ironically more rather than less virile, especially with the gloves which looked similar to the leather arm gear in Castrati.

Marcelo walked over to Julie Kent, dancing the lead ballerina here, examined various parts of her body — or perhaps measured her — his movements very rigid and staccato, almost unsettlingly so. After a short pas de deux, everyone left the stage, and the back curtain lowered back down over the painting. The dancers then re-emerged now without the skirts. The women wore simply the leotards, the men these biker-ish looking pants, all black but a darker more textured inky black lining the inner leg, a lighter, more diaphonous black lining the outer leg. A thick piece of elastic hugged the waist, and in front there was a long horizontal rectangular cut-out between the waist and pelvis which I found sexy and suggestive, albeit rather odd. The women were on pointe and then men wore either black ballet slippers or possibly jazz shoes — I couldn’t really tell, but it looked like there was a very small heel. The back curtain drew up again to reveal another black and white version of the portrait, but this one more filled-in than the previous. The work was being created.

Movement — both partnering and solo — was intentionally stiff, rigid, and awkward, but with hints of fluidity, very much like that I described in Elo’s just-premiered piece “Brake the Eyes.” In fact at one point, Marcelo performed the same exact movement pattern as the ballerina in “Brake” as his body was seemingly divided into two, the left half held stiff and bent, the right arm making flowing, wavy watery movements, as if half of his body was struggling to break free from the other. In “Brake,” I interpreted this to be half classical ballet, half puppet and thought of it as some kind of statement on the world of classical ballet. With Marcelo performing the same movement (and it looked very different on Marcelo’s huge body as compared to the petit ballerina’s), I thought of it more as the artist trying to break free of constraints or, in Close’s case, the limitations of his own body.

I don’t know a huge amount about Close, but I do know he was a promising youngish artist when struck with an aneurysm, which rendered his arms and legs nearly useless. He then developed a new kind of painting method, by which he would photograph his subject, then employ others to put various computerized graphs over the photo, over which he would, using an arm brace, paint in the little graphic squares, making a colorful complex portrait that was almost industrial-looking if viewed from up close, but poetic if viewed from afar. I felt like Marcelo symbolized the artist / subject (since Close was both) and both his personal struggles and his work process; a lot of the movement evoked the artistic struggle to create.

The dancers again left the stage, the curtain fell and rose again, this time revealing a colored, fully-painted portrait, very majestic.

Marcelo was the perfect body for Elo to create this piece on. With his large bone-structure, every awkward movement he made, a hip jutting out due to intentionally uneven weight distribution, a shoulder asymmetrically hung down, made the awkwardness of his body contortions all the more obvious. At one point, he almost looked like Billy Crudup’s Elephant Man that played on Broadway several years ago (Crudup, by the way, wore no makeup or prosthetics in that play; rather the way he moved his own normal body in such a distorted, awkward manner illustrted both the burden he bore from the disfigurement and how beautiful he was underneath it all). In the final segment of the ballet, the dancing becomes more mellifluous. The work is created, beauty triumphs. I’ll be seeing this ballet again at least one more time before the season ends, so I will likely, well definitely, get more out of it, and will report back when I do.

Oh, almost forgot: the curtain call was fantastic. Not only was Elo there (the choreographer usually takes a bow at the premiere), but Mr. Close came out onstage too! He was wheeled out in the most artful wheelchair. Instead of the regular four wheels on the floor, this one had its wheels stacked, two top two bottom, so it was like he was riding a permanent wheelie, making his height far above everyone else’s. Marcelo ran over and gave him a hug, as he’d done seconds earlier with Elo. Marcelo is happiness

The third ballet of the evening was the other new one, Millepied’s abstract “From Here On Out,” with original music by Nico Muhly. I’m sure that I’ll get more out of this ballet upon my second and possibly third viewing of it this season as well, but my initial thoughts are that the music far outshone the choreography. Muhly is a genius, make no doubt about it. After I’d seen Muhly speak about the project at the Guggenheim, I’d joked that I was excited to “hear” the ballet. Well, that’s exactly why you should go. I don’t know much about music but there were so many different kinds of instruments, I think a xylophone even, mixed with computerized sound to miraculous effect. And the way the percussion or horns would build into a crescendo then subside, then build again when you’re not expecting it, like a wonderful surprise. The music was enchanting, there was so much going on, it’s just a feast for the ears. I just felt that the genius of the choreography didn’t match that of the music. Which is not at all to say it wasn’t still interesting, it just didn’t take my breath away.

It may partly be that the choreography just didn’t start out strong enough. It opens with several dancers, all wearing purple unitards bearing various cut-outs — one on the side of the waist, another on the opposite hip, for the men over one breast — all standing in a huddle, simply shifting weight one foot to the other. There’s some partnering, then ensemble work, and eventually a pas de deux between a man and a woman takes place. For the most part this duet doesn’t do much for me save for a few longing stretches and holds. (Go here to see one of my favorite shapes from that duet performed by Marcelo and Paloma Herrera.) From there, the ballet builds up a bit then ends on a stronger note: several women get whisked up and carried off into the wings. It’s a rather lovely end. I just wish it had the same momentum throughout. But as I said, I’ll be seeing it some more this week, so will report back on what further viewings yield.

Until then, I just discovered that Muhly actually has a blog! Go here to read a cute post about his freaking out at the last minute over a note. Go here for a Times article about a couple of things ahead in the coming week for ABT (a revival of a piece by Antony Tudor and Tharp Tharp Tharp!), and go here for the rest of the season schedule and tix. Only one week left

Yay, my favorites returned to City Center last night I feel like I should call them DOC (“Danny’s old company”); can’t figure out if that sounds funny or obnoxious: ABT/ DOC… Hmm, guess it depends…

Okay, well, I gave my sum-up of the evening in the title’s post, above, I have nothing more to say now… No, seriously, I felt like there wasn’t a whole lot to the gala program, it was a pretty short evening of excerpts, but nearly everything I saw was spectacular.

First, I just have to say, I found the perfect place to sit in City Center with its universally acknowledged evil sightlines: the very last row of the rear mezzanine. You sit all the way back there, you fold up your seat til it’s against the seat back, and then you sit on the top of the seatback. You’re not blocking anyone since you’re in the back. Of course I have a permanent indentation on the tops of my back thighs and I could hardly walk afterwards since my legs were numb from cut-off circulation, but I could see!!!

First on was David in Ballo Della Regina, a pretty, pastel, story-less Balanchine with about 10,000 women wearing simple light-colored leotards and flowing diaphanous skirts, and one man in a white blousy top and pastel tights. David was the man. Well, I just said that… I don’t know if I’m “supposed to” feel this way since Balanchine’s ballets are so female-centric, but David made the ballet for me. He was by far the most beautiful, poetic element in the whole thing. His high high HIGH demi-pointe (tip toes), the way he just flies about the stage with those ethereal jumps — forget Balanchine’s gender divisive, man is human, woman is soul universe. David is the consummate combination of both. In her 1996 New Criterion essay, “Figures in the Carpet,” (contained in her book “Landscape With Moving Figures”) Laura Jacobs wrote this, “When you first see this dancer set foot upon the stage, though blond and not overly muscled, you can’t help thinking of Nureyev. He has the deliberate walk and the stage-bound self-containment … Where Nureyev brings a dark force to his dancing, he brings lightness, restraint… He can break your heart with a tendu.” She was talking about Vladimir Malakhov; David was a child then. (I feel that unfortunately, being relatively new to ballet, I’ve all but missed the era of Malakhov.) But I feel like she could easily be talking about David here. He’s not so ferociously feline or animalistic like Nureyev and he’s certainly not dark; he’s sheer radiant perfection. And talk about “breaking your heart” with a simple point of the foot… By the time the ballet was over I had this pit in my stomach and I felt kind of sick, like when you see something truly sublime and someone so perfect. I don’t mean to be corny. Gillian Murphy was sweet and danced beautifully as his partner, as well. David just stole the show to me. I think he’s the greatest dancer in the world right now.

Next, they juxtaposed Balanchine’s beatific feminine universe with some excerpts from “Clear,” Stanton Welch’s glorious male-centric ballet. Herman Cornejo and Xiomara Reyes had the pas de deux leads here. The more I see of this ballet, the more I’m loving it, and I’m realizing that though it is abstract, there is a little story in it. And I really love its spirituality. Herman is really starting to come alive to me. When I first started watching him dance I thought he was technically spectacular, but didn’t show enough emotion and so kind of bored me. Now I feel that he is really putting a lot of thought and emotional strength into everything he does. He was really intense in “Clear,” the way he’d brush off Xiomara’s advances, then hesitantly succumb to her. And the way he raises his chest, the way he jetes and pirouettes, he’s like a demi-god. He’s the antithesis of David, not ethereal at all but totally somehow grounded even when airborne (and he flies high). He’s a virile beauty.

Then there was a very short excerpt duet from Antony Tudor’s “The Leaves are Fading.” It was danced nicely by Michele Wiles and Alexandre Hammoudi, but the pas de deux was so short, it didn’t leave much impact.

(photo above by Roy Round, copied from ABT’s website; all headshots from ABT website).

Then there was a fun, flirty, Latiny pas de deux from the classical Petipa ballet, Don Quixote, danced by the now legendary Jose Manuel Carreno (one of my longtime favorites, and, for SYTYCD fans, Danny Tidwell’s chief idol!) and Paloma Herrera. I love Jose so much and I miss not seeing him as often as I used to; he doesn’t seem to dance all that often anymore. This fun, sexy Latin role is so perfect for him; he owns it like no other.

(photo by Rosalie O’Connor; Angel Corella in the air, also from ABT website)

And last was Jerome Robbins’s 1944 ballet “Fancy Free” about three sailors on shore leave and the comical little troubles they get themselves into trying to pick up women in a bar. This one “starred” (because that’s just the word that most comes to mind when I think of him) Marcelo, along with Herman, and Sascha Radetsky as the sailors, and Julie Kent and Stella Abrera as the unsuspecting pick-up-ees. So fun. I always love this little romp, especially when ABT does it. The guy next to me and I giggled throughout the entire thing. Marcelo is the best dramatic dancer out there, no doubt about it. He just brings the stage to life; he brings the whole theater to life. If anyone wants to learn how to have absolute massive amounts of stage-presence, look no further than the master!

That was it; then the party began (which I am far too poor to attend). Their City Center season is only two short weeks this year; usually it’s three. Two world premieres happen later this week: the Millipied, which I blogged about here, and the Chuck Close / Philip Glass / Jorma Elo collaboration, which I blogged about here. Just too much excitement for one week… Visit CC for tix.

Hehe, my friend, Ariel Davis, a young journalist currently in NYC for an internship with a big magazine, emailed me bright and early yesterday morning to tell me that we were quoted in the NYTimes! Of course I immediately scoured the article. Well, we weren’t actually quoted, in that our names weren’t listed, but we were the ones exclaiming, “he looks like a god,” the top quote in Claudia LaRocco’s write-up of the opening night of the Slow Dancing films I’ve been mobile-blogging about for about the past fifty posts now. (I promise to stop soon with the cell phone blogging; it’s just so exciting, in its own way). Anyway, the “god” Ariel and I were speaking of was Herman Cornejo of course

Anyway, I’m going to see it several more times before it leaves NY, but so far my thoughts are that the project is a great idea that has some real kinks to work out.

For starters, Lincoln Center is really annoying me and if I was Michalek I would be pissed. Slow Dancing starts at 9 p.m and continues until 1:00 in the morning; Midsummer Night Swing ends at 10:00 p.m. But after the MNS band stops playing, Lincoln Center really shuts down: the alcohol and snack bars all close shop, making it impossible to enjoy a drink with friends while watching the films, and, more seriously, a very noisy cleanup begins. The Aquafina guy noisily dismembers his metal booth then hauls it all, bit by bit, to a huge garbage-like truck waiting, motor running, in the nearby taxi cab lane; the bar guys clinkily clear bottles and glasses from their shelves; garbage collectors noisily bag trash and load it onto little trucks, which they drive dangerously through the crowd darting in and out and around groups of people, sometimes even honking if you don’t see them coming — how’s the audience supposed to focus on the film with all this crap going on? You feel like Lincoln Center’s telling you it’s time to go home now, show’s over, you’re out past your bedtime. Until July 29th, when this exhibit ends, could they possible re-arrange clean-up schedules? It’s hugely disrespectful to the artist and his audience.

As for the project itself, I think it’s a great idea and it seemed to work well when I saw it indoors at the earlier Works & Process event at the Guggenheim Museum, but for some reason, it’s not as exciting outdoors on the huge Plaza. I think part of my being so captivated at Guggenheim stemmed from the fact that I know and love all three dancers who were showcased that night: Wendy Whelan (ballerina of New York City Ballet), Herman Cornejo (American Ballet Theater), and Desmond Richardson (Complexions). But the vast majority of the dancers participating in the whole project I don’t know, or at least don’t recognize.

As LaRocco alludes to in her article, not a lot of the people on the Plaza for Midsummer Night Swing paid much attention to the films, unfortunately. Several heads did turn when the screens first lit up, and people watched for the first couple of minutes, but when they couldn’t see very much happening, they returned to their own fun. LaRocco bemoans that these social dancers, themselves participating in Dance, are ignorant of those on the screens, many of them the greats of ballet and modern dance.

Well, why should those dancers, having such a blast learning to dance themselves, stop what they’re doing in order to worship these people on the screens, whom they don’t know? Might someone, perhaps, tell them who they are?

From what I’ve seen so far, here are my critiques of the project:

1) No one knows who the dancers are and no one is bothering to tell them. If they’re not going to have easily available pamplets listing the names and credentials of the dancers, with pictures, could they run the names and a brief word about who they are somewhere prominent on the screen, at least at the start of each performance? Names humanize people. I’ve noticed this watching people watching filmed ballroom dance competitions — people who aren’t really seriously into the art of ballroom just kind of glance at the screen and look away after all of a minute — there are far too many people out there on the floor at once, it’s too much to take in, it’s confusing and nonsensical.

But once names are placed over the dancers (briefly, not for the entire time the camera’s focused on them of course), people pay much more attention, even if they’ve never heard the name before (which is highly likely). You think, ‘oh that couple’s obviously from Russia with huge names like that,’ ‘oh a Japanese couple,’ ‘wow, another Russian; a lot of Russians in ballroom, who knew…’ ‘oh wow, those are the national champions, yeah, they are really good,’ etc. etc. Names humanize. A little bit of info goes a long way.

Update: I went again tonight (Sunday), with Oberon, and found that there are little Lincoln Center playbills near the entrance to the State Theater, along with a poster, both giving the names and a brief background of each dancer next to his or her picture. I still like the idea of printing the names somewhere on the screens though! Also, I met Wendy Whelan tonight — she’s a very sweet person! Here is a picture of her and Oberon. Awww

2) There are either too many of the same types of dancers or there’s not enough variety and spontaneity in the rotations. At several points, there are two to three dancers shown all at once who are all doing modern. This is boring and reductive. Also, can everyone not be dressed exactly the same? Wendy Whelan and Janie Taylor are ballerinas but they’re both dressed in the same silky flowing gowny things as about ninety percent of all the women. To someone who doesn’t know dance, it could be confused with yet more modern. Couldn’t at least one be in a tutu and on pointe. And, could someone do a fouette or multiple pirouettes? The movement is too much the same. It would be much more interesting if there was, say, in the middle a classical ballerina on pointe in a tutu doing fouettes, then say the African dancer guy on one end, and maybe William Forsythe doing his modern on the other end; then shift in the next sequence to the bellydancer, adjacent to the head-spinning break dancer, and sandwiched in between, the drag queen; then next sequence, say the guy on the crutches, the pregnant woman, another ballerina; or have a ballerina surrounded by a strong ballet guy and one of the modern women. Just make sure there’s variety in every sequence of three. That makes it interesting and it’s more of a celebration of Dance, in its rich variety.

3) I realize the point of the project is to show movement in extreme slow motion, but I feel that it is too slow. At points you can’t even see the dancers moving at all. This actually may be a glitch in the film, because at some points I think the films have actually stopped for a while — sometimes even for as much as a full minute. This is confusing to the audience, who is already perplexed enough trying to figure out, as LaRocco illustrated with one couple’s conversation, if there actually is movement. Possible technical problems aside, though, the movement is generally still too slow. Instead of people admiring every detail of the body in motion, every ripple of a muscle, the audience just gets bored, especially if the dancer isn’t “flashy” enough. These past couple days I’ve become most fascinated with Glem Rumsey, who dances here as his flamboyant drag persona “Shasta Cola.” I find myself waiting for him to come on because I know I’m going to be most entertained. In contrast, one of the dancers I was most excited to watch was Janie Taylor. Yet, I find myself getting unexpectedly bored when she’s on here. She does nothing really over-the-top; no spectacular balletic feats. Even that crazy hair flip that generated a lot of press talk pre-show opening — it’s nothing; I almost missed it. There’s no appreciation for subtlety when the movement is this weighted down. The guy on crutches is initially intriguing because you’re wondering what he’s going to do, but you get bored and stop watching when he takes so long to get going. All of a sudden you look back and him and he’s in the air. You think, ‘oh wow,’ but it still doesn’t hold your attention for long because it takes a number of minutes for the guy to do one rotation. You lose interest. Same thing with the Whirling Dervish. Slow-mo can have a very dramatic effect, but not when it’s this slow.

My own personal favorites are Herman Cornejo, Desmond Richardson, William Forsythe, and the aforementioned Rumsey, all of whom, excepting Rumsey, I’m pretty sure I like simply because they’re already so familiar to me. I’m bringing a bunch of friends to the show over the next couple weeks, many non-dance-goers, so will be interested to hear what they think, who their favorites, if any, are. Will most definitely report back!

In the meantime, I’ve started an album on the photo page; I expect to add more pictures, but here are the first few.

Funny there was no red carpet, no big showy movie stars, no former President of the United States, no big huge to-do at American Ballet Theater’s opening night gala tonight, unlike at NYCB two weeks ago, but just walking into the Met Opera House amongst all of these hugely wealthy patrons wearing all manner of couture just made me feel so poor and ugly… like I NEVER felt last week or any time I’ve been in NYCB for that matter. ABT people can just be so intimidating…

Anyway, the program was excellent — at least the second half, though I have tons of miniscule criticisms to make, of course of course. First, Marcelo. Not because he was on first — he wasn’t on til the second half — but just because, he’s Marcelo!! He danced with Alessandra Ferri in the final scene of Othello. Ugh, they were both so good, I got depressed again — like I felt after watching Pasha and Anna last week… just a huge lump in my throat, just sad. Alessandra is so so so good, and it’s just so horrible she’s retiring — it really is tragic. I don’t mean to be melodramatic but I just feel like there’s never going to be another ballerina like her and it’s so terribly upsetting. She just has something no one else does. It’s just beyond words watching her. And Marcelo is such a big, huge, gorgeous man, such a star — he’s so perfect as her support. He is of course a great actor too, and that is so absolutely necessary for this scene. He was so frightening and powerful and uber-virile — as Marcelo always is, but so sadly broken as well. He could definitely have taken all of that a bit further, but he is just returning to the stage after a hiatus and you could see the concentration in his eyes. He’ll take it up a notch when he performs the whole ballet, I’m sure! That ballet is going to be THE BALLET to see this season — it’s gonna rock! Lar Lubovitch (the choreographer) is a genius … well Shakespeare was a genius so anything anyone does that’s based on his plays in my mind is superior to the other story ballets… But the choreography looks so engrossing — if anyone is kinda sorta an ABT fan and is thinking about maybe possibly going to see something this season, SEE THAT ONE!!!

So, the other stuff: Herman Cornejo and Xiomara Reyes did the balcony pas de deux from Romeo and Juliet, and to me, it ended up being an interestingly different take on that scene, but just not good enough. It was ALL ABOUT HERMAN — show-stealer that he is It really was a bunch of bravura dancing from him, while Xiomara just kind of looked on sweetly — which was interesting, really in its own way: it was like, “Hey, Juliet, look how hot I am for you! I’m just flying all over the stage doing all these crazy-ass tricks!” And she, “Oh Romeo, Romeo, you’re sooo great, you’ve definitely won my heart now…” Cute take, but they totally watered down the choreography — they took out all those beautiful crazy big huge run and jump lifts — you CAN’T take those out!!!!! It’s plain and simply NOT MacMillan’s pdd without them!!!! And they just eased up on the choreography in general – -the partnering just wasn’t there for me. And that’s what the pdd is, after all, not bravura dancing for the man.

The Swan Lake excerpt was danced beautifully by Nina Ananiashvili and Angel Corella. A crowd pleaser as well that Angel is of course of course — it looked like he did about 10 pirouettes in a row. She did 30 fouettes — this is the first time I’ve EVER counted them and only did so because I know it is the balletomane thing to do. I’ll never do it again; it’s boring and takes away from enjoying the beauty of the dance. People who count are, to me, just silly… I didn’t count Angel’s pirouettes — I said they looked like there were about 10 in a row; I’m sure they weren’t; he just has that Angel way of … just being Angel… And I’m happy I got to see Nina; she’s not dancing much this season and I don’t know if I’ll make it to anything she’s in.

And then there was a Manon excerpt, a pas de deux, with Julie and Jose — two of my favorite dancers. They did this pdd like the Romeo and Juliet should have been done. They are spectacular, they are beautiful and poetic, and I really think Jose is one of the very greatest dancers in the world right now. I’m so scared he is going to be retiring soon too… Julie is perfect; she’s flawless and she’s beautiful. But to me, artistically, she still doesn’t have that something undefinably extra that Alessandra has. But she still has time. There is something about her and Marcelo dancing together too — they just have something together that makes them both better than they are alone…

The gala ended with La Bayadere excerpts, performed by David, Paloma, Gillian, and the illustrious heartthrob (so say his bizillions of adoring female fans) Ethan Stiefel – returning after a very long hiatus due to double knee surgery. He got a lot of applause, understandably so, and performed breathtaking jumps — he was really awesome. So cute! David seemed to be the only principal who didn’t get applause when he entered the stage. I think it’s because people are angry about his lack of contributions lately to the Winger … Just kidding of course I think it’s because he entered kind of suddenly, albeit with a very loud manly clap and people were a bit surprised and didn’t recognize him at first. I heard several voices around me going, “oh oh oh, that’s that David Hallberg, that’s who that is…” Plus, he was wearing a bright white turban, which, when I first saw it, I thought he’d gone and dyed his hair platinum now… I couldn’t see all that well from balcony…

In the first half — I know, I’m going totally backward — first piece was a Bayadere excerpt with all corps members. I’m not one for ensemble work with lots of people onstage at once — I’m a pdd (& occasionally bravura guy) girl — but Misty Copeland stood out to me in this first piece. Then Sleeping Beauty (excerpts from classic Petipa version, no new McKenzie version revealed yet! — that’s for later in the month), with Michele Wiles, Veronika Part, who slipped a bit in the Rose Adagio but nothing serious, Diana Vishneva, favorite of all the critics, and Irina Dvorovenko and Maxim Beloserkovsky. Personally, I love Irina. I know she is not favored by the critics, but she is still one of my favorite ballerinas. I think her dancing is breathtaking, she has gorgeous lines and beautiful extensions, and I think she’s a very good actress — she puts her heart and soul into everything she does, and she really loves and respects the audience. I just love her, and wish she’d dance once in a while with Marcelo and David! Diana was stunning, but one thing she did that was weird was she didn’t stay around and take her curtain call with the others. She took her bow right after she finished her part, then left, without waiting until Irina and Max were finished with theirs to take bows along with them, Veronika and Michele. It was noticeable to the audience as well — VERY noticeable. I hope she had a good reason for leaving early; I don’t think it sits well with fans if you don’t do as everyone else does — might make one look a bit superior. Just going by whispers I heard happening around me…

And then right before the intermission was “Lady’s Choice” a contemporary, ballroomy piece choreographed by Brian Reeder set to Chopin and danced by Stella Abrera and Sascha Radetsky. I didn’t think they worked very well together. He’s too small for her, for one, and for another, neither was very expressive.

After the first piece, Kevin came out and spoke, along with Caroline Kennedy, but the microphones weren’t set up well and I could hear hardly anything, so can’t tell you much of what was said. I do remember he said they were showcasing their corps members as well as their stars this time around — just reminded me of that difference between ABT and NYCB – the idea of having “stars.” Kevin seems like such a sweet man — I may be totally wrong, but he just seems like a really nice guy.

Looking at this picture on my wall made me realize who was missing — Carmen! (pictured with Marcelo of course!)

All in all it was a really lovely night even though I felt poor and ugly and then depressed??? Marcelo and Alessandra were just so beautiful together… He’s gay and she’s married, and I’m totally jealous of how great they were together. How much sense does that make?! It’s just like great dancing goes beyond great dancing sometimes, you know?… Ugh, it’s a good thing I don’t have a crush on Ethan or some other straight guy with a gorgeous and perfect paramour I’m really sorry if I’m a bit slap happy here — it’s late and I’m tired!

Just one last thing, on a totally different note. I made it home just in time to see the end of “Dancing With the Stars” — think there was a humorous remark made by Kennedy about being grateful that some young people were pulling themselves away from the show to be at ABT tonight, but I’m not sure because, as I said, the acoustics were off — but I think I overheard the TV show’s hostess say that tomorrow night, they are having Joaquin Cortes on the show?!?! The brilliant, spectacular, not to mention HOT, flamenco dancer?! If I heard correctly that is simply awesome — a real high point for them — that, THAT is CLASS!!!

Yesterday morning, I got up way too early (for me, on a weekend anyway), to run down to Lincoln Center and take some pictures of what I just knew would be a huge line. The New York City Ballet distributed free tickets to the April 29th dress rehearsal of their new production of Romeo & Juliet. Tickets were given out on a first-come, first-served basis, and distribution was to begin at 9:00. I got there at 8:50, and here was the line:

It wrapped all the way around the State Theater to Fordham Law School! There was no way I could take the time to wait in it, and, from what I heard later in the day, you really had to have got there around 7:30 or earlier to get a ticket. Although, apparently, from what we heard later, they gave people who waited in line but were unable to get a ticket, a free admission to a non-dress rehearsal, that normally only sponsors are invited to, which sounds really nice as well! Anyway, very happy to see so many people interested in ballet

Then, it was such a nice spring day — the first in New York! — so I walked through the park to what seems to be becoming a weekly event for me, the Guggenheim Museum’s Works & Process series. This one, “Slow Dancing,” was super cool. David Michalek, a film director and portrait photographer, as well as husband of New York City Ballet prima ballerina Wendy Whelan, is currently creating a public art film installation to be viewed during the Lincoln Center festival this summer. Basically, he took five seconds’ worth of footage of 45 different dancers from various dance styles — ranging from flamenco, Indian, break-dancing and krumping to of course Ballet — slowed it way way WAY down, using a highly specialized camera that has heretofore been used only by the military and NASA for weapons and rocket launch analyses respectively (!), and projected them onto a 50-foot high screen. During the festival, three such enormous screens will be hung on the outside the walls of the State Theater (pictured above in the top two pics) and, each night after dark, the images of the dancers — three at a time and moving in extreme slow motion, will be projected onto them.

So, we got to see how this was made last night. Three dance giants — Wendy Whelan (of course!), Herman Cornejo from ABT, and Desmond Richardson – each came out onstage and did a five-second solo. (Michalek joked that this was the only time we’d ever see dancers of this stature dance on a stage for a mere five seconds!) The camera recorded the movement, and after each dancer finished and exited the stage, we viewed what had been recorded in the slow timing.

It was so incredibly amazing it’s hard even to describe. With the image slowed to such a great extent and projected onto such a huge screen, you could just see so much that you never saw before, and it gave you so much more respect for the dancer to see how perfectly, how miraculously really, his or her body actually worked to make the huge jump, difficult turn, or beautiful line really happen. Richardson, exclaiming that as a dancer he was “ecstatic and inspired,” said that “to see the actual muscle fibers … really shows the work.” It’s so true: I noticed with Richardson, whose musculature is so pronounded, that, in contrast to a photo where you see the muscles but without seeing them actually work, viewing them contract, lengthen, expand, and flex during each part of a jump is so incredible that it makes the jump so much more astounding than just seeing it caught in a still picture. With Herman, I noticed that his feet practically make semi-circles when he points, and they remain pointed right until the very millisecond he lands. I noticed the gorgeous lines Wendy made with her arms, legs, feet, and hands, and her defined leg and arm muscles as well.

Of course as a dancer you’d have to have an ego of steel to allow yourself to be filmed in such a way! You see every detail, and every asymmetry, every flaw, if you could even call it that. Michalek said that Whelan, upon seeing herself onscreen for the first time, was really upset about her knees “buckling” when she jumped, and, during the panel discussion, when asked how she now felt, with sweetly self-deprecating humor, she just exhaled and said, “oh, I’ve come to embrace my imperfections…” Everyone laughed because, it’s like, what imperfections?!… I did notice she was pretty nervous when being video-taped though — you could really see her left hand tremble during the slowed film.

What impressed me most though was how it really had an iconic effect on the, literally, larger-than-life performer. Michalek said, seeing so many pictures of his beautiful wife and her colleagues made him dismayed at the limits of traditional dance photography to capture the monumental nature of the body in motion.

Allowing — almost forcing the viewer to examine closely what it is that makes each particular dancer so great — Richardson’s musculature and strength, Wendy’s beautiful lines, and Herman’s beyond perfect technique and the personality emanated through his eyes — has a kind of heroizing effect. Regarding those eyes: perhaps I am weird, but I seem to focus a lot on faces a lot when I attend a dance performance. I noticed that both Richardson and Whelan closed their eyes a lot, or looked down so that it looked as if they were. I wondered how they did that — if I closed my eyes I would lose all sense of place and direction; I would have no idea where the floor was. It was this, I felt, that gave their dancing a very ethereal feel and was part of their own particular artistry.

Herman was the exact opposite. His eyes never closed. At the beginning, when he first took the stage, they were focused straight out at the audience; I was sitting in the center of the fourth row and it was kind of freaky how it looked like he was looking right at me, in a proud, but almost confrontational way. Then, as he began his jump, his eyes remained wide open and directed firmly out at us; it was only when he went to land that they briefly glanced down at the floor so he could get his sense of place. Then, he immediately went into another jump, this time with a turn, and it was so incredible to see his eyes remain widely, alertly opened, and his gaze directed in the same place, until he had to rotate his head to complete the turn. His eyes, I felt gave him a very solid, very masculine “thereness” or presence, that I suppose is perhaps a Latin thing. I bet if Jose Carreno or Angel Corella were filmed, their eyes would be the same. I think that is what so draws me to ABT.

Anyway, the reception was a lot of fun as well. Doug Fox was in town, so I convinced him to meet me there, and he was very glad he did since the techie aspect of it was right up his alley. And, speaking of other brilliant techies (not to mention great dancers!), we ran into Kristin Sloan and her boyfriend, Doug Jaeger, as well

All of these dancer whom they chose to exhibit last night, though, were pretty similar in terms of body-type and obviously style of dance. It’ll be interesting to see the break and belly dancers. Definitely do not miss this spectacular celebration of dance. It’s showing outdoors at Lincoln Center from July 20th though 29th, from the hours of 9:00 p.m. until 1:00 a.m.