Yipee, my Huffington Post blog is up! My first piece is a general rumination on the current dance craze on TV — kind of similar to my Explore Dance article, but more personal, from my own experiences as a ballroom dancer and balletomane, and more focused on the popularity in general than critiquing the individual shows. I’ll post there, soon hopefully, about the new dance show on MTV, “America’s Best Dance Crew.” Photo, meh, but at least no moustache, right 😀
New Wheeldon Pretty But Not Profound
So last night was the premiere of the newest ballet by Christopher Wheeldon at New York City Ballet, the last he’ll choreograph for the company in his role as resident choreographer. Named ROCOCO VARIATIONS, because it was choreographed to Tchiakovsky’s music of the same name, it was relatively short and minimal, involving a total of four dancers — two male / female couples. Overall, my first impressions are that it was sweet and pretty, but nothing that really blew me away. The curtain opened to a bare stage, no sets. First one couple emerged, then another, the two women dressed in really lovely bronze-colored strapless dresses, the flowing skirts A-level and knee-length. They resembled a cross between ballgowns and a long tulle ballet tutu, and at first I thought it was going to be reminiscent of a Balanchine ballroom ballet, but I was wrong; it was pretty much straight ballet pas de deux. The men wore brown tights and white billowing tops covered by 19th Century-esque beige vests. The music was absolutely beautiful, it goes without saying, and Wheeldon’s very musical; the steps “looked like” the music.
I appreciated a few moments of original partnering and movement: at one point, when all four are onstage, the women stand next to each other and extend their arms toward each other, and the men walk around them and underneath their arms, on the way through grabbing each other and doing a short, jaunty little male -on- male dance. Cute! There was also a nice, evocative shape made by one couple — Sterling Hyltin and Giovanni Villalobos — when Giovanni lunged deeply toward her and she leaned toward him on one toe, her back leg in an arabesque. Where normally the ballerina would keep her head up to maintain her balance and smile brightly at her partner’s face, here she covered his hands with hers and let her head fall all the way underneath their locked hands. It looked like she was really deferring to him, really trusting him, and it was original. Near the end, Adrian Danchig-Waring, the other man, bent down, and his ballerina Sara Mearns, lay on his back, her body straight, almost like a log, and he carried her off that way, bent-backed, as if now bearing a weight.
I was really mesmerized by Mearns and Danchig-Waring. Adrian’s arms were so fluid, they were like water. And both were very expressive with their upper bodies; they had beautiful port de bras (arm movements) culminating with intricate, delicate shaping of the wrists.
I’ll see the ballet again, but, on first sighting, I found the choreography pretty and lyrical, with points of originality, but nothing tremendously profound. My thoughts are that Wheeldon is petering out a bit, wanting to focus now on his own company, Morphoses.
The rest of the evening consisted of Balanchine’s sweetly Romantic “Divertimento from ‘Le Baiser de la Fee'” — which translates to “The Fairy’s Kiss” and is based on a Hans Christian Anderson tale; Peter Martins’s short tribute to China, “The Chairman Dances,” likely in honor of the Chinese New Year (Happy Chinese New Year everyone!); and Balanchine’s fun, raucous “Stars and Stripes,” a patriotic tribute to his adopted country, choreographed in honor of NYC mayor, Fiorella LaGuardia, to iconic Philip Sousa marching music.
I then came home and watched Randy Jackson’s “America’s Best Dance Crew,” on MTV, which I’d taped. I thought it was a lot of fun — very different from the other dance TV shows. For people who didn’t see it, it’s all dancing — no singing, unlike “Dance War” and the groups have been working together for some time, so they’re familiar with each other and know what they’re doing. It appears that the judges give the groups a different song to choreograph to and they have to come up with something original in a short period of time. The crews with the two lowest scores have a dance-off in the end. But the dancing is really only hip hop with some breaking thrown in, so there isn’t a variety of styles, unlike SYTYCD. My favorite crew overall thus far is “Live in Color,” though I’m not in love with the name — too much like “Living Colour,” whose lead singer the lead dancer actually kind of resembles, with the mohawk (though the dancer’s hair is shorter than the singer’s was). I loved how that guy threw in those fouettes at the end (which one of the judges called “art spins” 🙂 ) Anyway, I’m expecting to write more about the show on my Huffington Post blog column, when it’s up (I’m thinking it got a bit delayed by Super Tuesday). If it’s not up soon, I’ll write more about the shows here.
Are African American Women Mere "Footnotes"?
I am so sick of the way the media is making the Democratic race into a race and gender war and the terms they’re using to construct it falsely. All I heard all night was that Clinton won among “women” while Obama prevailed among “Blacks.” What exactly are Black women then — doesn’t this language kind of negate them? Just when my blood was boiling over it, the reporter added, “oh and a footnote, a footnote: Black women voted for Obama by …” (whatever the percentage was). “A footnote”? How insulting.
While I’m mostly pleased with the Super Tuesday results, I am thoroughly disgusted by the media coverage, at least on network TV. They act like Hillary’s a big loser for not doing better, when, hello, she secured the most delegates and won the biggest states. On the other hand, the way they talk about Obama, it’s as if they’re patting him on the head, saying ‘good boy, good boy, you did really well, considering…’ Considering what? That he’s Black? That he’s young? It’s like he’s a child or someone with some huge handicap.
And right now on ABC some male jackass pundit is saying the Democratic party needs to decide whether it wants to be forward-looking, appealing to young people aged 30 and under, or looking backward to the good old days, appealing to the 60 plus crowd. Could the party possibly be both, dumbass? Ugh. Idiots. Okay, I’m tired and going to bed…
Don’t Forget to Vote!
Happy Super Tuesday, everyone! And happy NY Giants parade, NYers 🙂
It’s Very Loud in New York Right Now…
With helicopters and screams and wooo’s and honking horns… methinks I may not see any sleep tonight. I wonder what it’s like back home (where the game took place) … besides warm! Can’t complain though — it’s in the 50s here 😀 Anyway, congrats Giants fans!
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!
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).
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!
"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.
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.
Me, and Bad Boys :)
First, my review of NYCBallet’s “Traditions” and “Balanchine’s World” programs is up on ExploreDance.com. I talked about the ballets in more depth than I did in my blog post; in particular, ballerina Maria Kowroski. Plus there are better pictures 🙂
Second, Maria (of A Time To Dance, not Maria Kowroski) has some interesting info on Rasta Thomas. Apparently, he is bringing his Bad Boys of Dance, which I wrote about when the just-formed company premiered at Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival over the summer, to DC. Also, Rasta has been named Artistic Director of a dance company there called Echo Park Contemporary Ballet. Lucky DCers!
Magnolia line around the corner!
Magnolia Bakery line around the corner! Hopefully it’s just because it’s opening day and it won’t always be like this. I talked a bit to the owner and he seems really nice. He apologized to me about a million times because they kept forgetting my coffee 🙂 Right now it’s just a take-out place (you actually grab a cardboard box from a shelf on your way in and pick out your own cupcake(s) from the various trays leading down the line to the cash register — whole thing resembles a high school cafeteria; not sure if the one in the Village is like this too because I never went into it). So, no tables for sitting down and chatting. He told me though that they’re in the process of renovating an adjacent room with plenty of such tables, although that room may sometimes be rented out for private parties. Anyway, Ariel and I had chocolate cupcakes. She liked hers (in fact, here is a picture of it); I found mine a slight bit bland, but that may be how some people like their dessert — without too much sugar. I’m a sweet-aholic so, for me, the more sugar, the better, especially when I’m being horrible and am basically eating a mini chocolate cake for breakfast anyway… Their coffee was absolutely delicious though. Well worth waiting for!
I then spent the entire day running back and forth (again) between New York City Ballet and a ballroom event — this one, the Manhattan Amateur Classic. Most excellent dance weekend — will post about both tomorrow!
Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.
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