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Tom Gold is the Quintessential Balletic Chaplin, Megan the Frightening Dork, Justin in Yet More Drag, and Amar!

 

I’m writing a formal review for Explore Dance, but for now, if you’re in New York, don’t miss NYCBallet’s DOUBLE FEATURE, showing only through Wednesday. An homage to silent films, the evening is comprised, as the name implies, of two ballets, both by Broadway / sometime ballet choreographer Susan Stroman. The first, “The Blue Necklace,” is a slow-moving melodrama, kind of a soap opera version of Cinderella. Aside from opening chorus-girl and ending waltzing -couples numbers, there isn’t a huge amount of dancing, which is mainly I think why I didn’t care a whole lot for this one, though Megan Fairchild hilariously stood out as the dangerously dorky stepsister who can’t dance her way out of a paper bag. She held her feet so pidgeon-toed at one point, I thought she may twist her kneecap. And who knew how much she looks like Christina Ricci?!

The “feature” to see, though, is the second, “Makin’ Whoopee,” a slapstick piece starring a rather tragicomical Charlie Chaplin in the guise of soloist Tom Gold. There is no one better to play a balletic version of the little fellow — he had all the moves just right; so cutely pathetic but ultimately triumphant… Surprisingly, though, Amar Ramasar is a born actor —

— he completely took over the stage whenever he was on it. Something about him reminds me of Marcelo… He did a crazy sexy bad tango … except, the ganchos. Messrs. Ramasar and Fairchild, those were not ganchos, they were half-assed ballet boy kicky-thingys! Also, Robert Fairchild needs a smaller hat; it practically covered his eyes and I couldn’t even tell who he was until he took it off to do some big bravura jumps and his wet hair went flying about. But apart from dainty tango hooks and over-large sweat-inducing top hats, this ballet showcases a cute little dog, and Justin Peck in yet more drag… this time not as a plump matriach with a nursery beneath her skirt, but as a lovely bride… Don’t ask, just go see it!

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Ballroom Challenge Week One, and Head Shot Hell!

 

Sorry it took me so long to get this post up — last two days were stupidly busy, partly because of my ridiculous obsession with my face — but more about that in a minute…

Anyway, so Wednesday night was American Smooth, which I have to confess is my least favorite competition event, at least until J.T. Thomas and Tomas Mielnicki began dancing about a year ago. So, I’m obviously very happy they won. And I thought their showcase routine was lovely — actually, I recognized it from the RHYTHM OF LOVE show that I saw in Connecticut; it was the “At the Ballet” number where they feigned performing on a stage for the show’s main characters, their dancing leading to the boy’s obsession with learning to dance himself. It reminded me of something one of my favorite Standard couples — Victor Fung and Anna Mikhed — would do; a traditional ballroom dance but with some lovely lifts and a little storyline to elevate it to something more than just a group routine. I loved it.

This, to me, is in contrast to Eddie Stutts and Valentina, whom co-host Ron Montez was going nuts over. I didn’t think much of their showcase though. Their routine was just basic ballroom, something they could have done during the group dances, albeit without the very few lifts they threw in; a showdance needs to be more than that — that’s why it’s called a showdance. JT and Tomas’s had character, passion — they acted.

Oh and I loved Steven Doughtery and Eulia Baranovky’s tribute to Fred and Ginger (pictured above, image taken from ABC website). I’ve liked this couple, who unfortunately are retiring this year, for a while now, and am sorry the judges haven’t. They never seem to place them very high. That’s how it goes with ballroom though … sometimes you just can’t make sense of the judges. So I was beyond thrilled to see them win the showdance. That routine was full of class and sass and loads of character; I loved everything from how they held their arms, to their little tap-dancing hops (reminding me of Rita Hayworth when she would dance with Astaire), to her gorgeous dress. They really were like Fred and Ginger brought back to life. I’ll miss them, but what a perfect showdance to end your competitive career on.

The rest of the showdances I wasn’t tremendously impressed with. I thought Tony Scheppler and Tonja Martin’s hip hop routine was interesting, combining as it did two starkly different dances (Latin and hip hop wouldn’t have been such a contrast). I thought the judges should have scored them higher, both for the originality and for doing pretty well with both styles. I don’t understand why the judges liked Mazen Hamza and Irina Sarukhanyan. Their routines are often odd, but unlike last year’s martial arts-inspired number, this leopard-clad animalistic thing didn’t make much sense nor did it involve anything very difficult.

Unfortunately I couldn’t see much of the group heats. The camera caught the dancers from very odd angles, often getting way too much of the audience in the shot, cutting off our view of the dancers’ legs — kind of important in dance… The group comps never come across that well on film; you kind of need to be there to experience its unique thrill. But I still think the camera person could do better. There’s nothing like sitting near the dance floor and watching the dancers twirl by you. I would like to see what that would look like on film: just having the camera person sitting at the edge of the floor and capturing whatever happens to fly by.

Next week is a most raucous event: American Rhythm. Showdown time!! (I’ll post more when it gets nearer)

Okay, on to other dance-TV matters. Well, I am extremely excited to announce that I will be writing about the thriving TV dance scene for The Huffington Post! As soon as my blog is up in their Entertainment Section, I’ll be posting about the TV shows there, and of course everytime I post there, I’ll put a link to it here.

Which brings me to my face obsession. My future editor needed a little picture to accompany the column, and not being a pro dancer or actor or anything, I don’t have a real head shot. So I had to do the homemade version, which I’m more comfortable with than having them professionally done anyway — I can be in control of myself. Of course it took me all night Wednesday night, trying to attain: the perfect background, the perfect camera angle, the perfect distance of the lens from my face, the perfect tilt of the head, the perfect smile (not too much so as to look like a goof but not too little so as to look like I have a rod up my backside), the perfect degree of widened eyes — seriously, I either looked like I was on some serious Speed or had just smoked a load of Pot. I would finally get a decent shot only to discover my bra strap was clearly visible. I guess these would be the reasons for having a professional… Yesterday, I forced myself to decide on a few. I downloaded them to the computer, obsessed over which one looked the best both in large and small (the headshots on the site are TINY, but still, I needed to send the picture in its original size so they could downsize it and crop it up however they liked and couldn’t bear to send regular-sized photo in which I looked hideous). I finally chose one and was about to send it off when I did a test run first and sent it to myself. I clicked on the attachment, hit open, and was faced with the biggest flipping representation of my face I’d ever come into contact with. I scrolled this way and that, viewing my face in all its various parts. When I scrolled down to my mouth area, I was shocked to find: MOUSTACHE!!!! Plain as day, there it was. I honestly never knew I had it. And it was dark — jet black. I sprinted to the bathroom, searched the cabinet for tweezers and began plucking around, feeling nothing, seeing nothing.

Later I met Ariel for a celebratory pig-fest at Magnolia Bakery (she just landed a most excellent gig covering the upcoming Fashion Week for an online magazine — go Ariel!). But we had to find another place in the area since blasted Magnolia STILL doesn’t have their sit-down area ready! What is up with them?! Who gets take-out cupcakes??? The whole point of having a dining establishment in NY is for people to dine there! It’s the dead of winter; who can take their cupcake outside and eat it on the bench or at the Lincoln Center fountain?! Have the owners no sense????? Anyway, we found a nice cozy little cafe called The Muffins Cafe just down the street, and substituted our cupcakes for chocolate croissants.

As soon as she got herself situated at the table, I spit out, “Okay, be honest. Am I in denial? Do I have a moustache? Be honest!”

“What? No,” she giggled.

“I can’t see it at all; can’t even feel it, but according to my camera it’s there!”

“Oh you mean when you downloaded and viewed it full-size on the screen,” she laughed. “Yeah, that magnifies everything. Don’t do that, especially with a portrait!”

Oh.

“Everyone has weird flaws!” she laughed shaking her head like I was a goof for not knowing this, which I guess I did; I just don’t obsess over anyone else’s. She told just to downsize it before sending it, at least a little.

“But then, can’t the editor blow it back to its original? I blabbered.

“Er, I don’t think he has time for that,” she said.

True.

Anyway, I am really excited to write about dance for such a large audience, most of which may not have much exposure. As I said, I’ll link to the blog column when it’s up and running! For now, here’s an article I wrote for Explore Dance about the various TV shows (at least the ones on network TV).

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Your Mama Do Dance

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

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

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DANCE WAR: Week 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Bring on the Europeans: it’s the Nikolaj Hubbes Of The World Who Make Ballet an Essential Art

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.”

 

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!

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Glogg at Cafe Lalo

Glogg at cafe lalo

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

 

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

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

 

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"How She Move:" Sweet Movie with Spectacular Step Dancing

 

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

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

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

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

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

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Movie in the Making: NY Export: Opus Jazz

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

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

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

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

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Bench Trial

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

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I Believe in Queens

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

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

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

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Oltremare

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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