Last Week at New York City Ballet

 

Last week I went to two performances of NYCB – opening night and Thursday night’s “See the Music” program – and to two of the free all-day Balanchine events on Saturday. First, I’ll talk about the last two since I found them so informative. The free studio talk on Saturday afternoon – Balanchine’s birthday – was moderated by Sean Lavery (former NYCB principal dancer, now ballet master), and included Sterling Hyltin (in Paul Kolnik photo above with Robert Fairchild), Chase Finlay, and Jenifer Ringer. Lavery asked the dancers to talk about their first Balanchine ballets, their favorites, and what drew them to NYCB. Hyltin named as her favorite Duo Concertant (pictured above) which I’d just seen her dance on opening night. She said she liked the syncopated movement, the he goes and I go kind of back and forth movement conversation with her partner, and with the musicians. I really liked it too. The violinist and pianist are onstage (the music is Stravinsky), and I like the interaction between the dancers and the musicians, and between the two dancers, and I like the sharp, angular movement. She seemed particularly animated when I saw it. I love Robert Fairchild and think he’s such a sharp, masculine mover with a presence that commands your attention without meaning to – he kind of reminds me of a less cocky Ethan Stiefel – but she seemed so happy to be dancing this piece that she stood out to me more. It was nice to hear her talk about it.

But what I really loved was the School of American Ballet class taught by Peter Martins. He interacted cutely with the students, particularly “Cyrus,” (at least I think that was his name…) a tall, long-limbed young man who I think will soon be in the company. Cyrus didn’t always do everything perfectly (at least in Martins’s eyes) but he had a charming presence and a great leading-man physique and you can tell he works hard.

Martins had the class demonstrate ballet basics – beginning with the five positions, and they showed us a perfect fifth position (with the toes of the front foot touching the heel of the other and vice versa). More interestingly, he had the class show us the difference between a Balanchine hand and a classical ballet hand. I’d always noticed there was a difference but couldn’t figure it out exactly. God gave us five fingers, Balanchine had said, so we shouldn’t hide two of them. The Balanchine hand shows all five fingers, the classical ballet one only three (with the ring finger and pinky held so that they are hidden from view behind the middle finger).

Martins also had the students show us how Balanchine’s fourth position differed from others’. In Balanchine’s the back leg is straight; in all others’ the back leg is bent. Martins didn’t go into any functional explanation for this – just said “here, we think it looks better.” But I thought about it and thought, wow, it must be hard to take off in a jump for example with the back leg straight. And then I realized that’s partly why Balanchine’s choreography always looks so fluid, like one step leading right into another, without a lot of stopping to build up to a big athletic feat – a big jump or series of turns. Other companies – like the Russians, like the Bolshoi – are all about preparing so that you can do something astounding. So they’re all about the building up.

This was mentioned in the studio talk as well. Lavery also talked about how fluid Balanchine’s movement was, and how, for example, in a lift, a guy would pick up a girl, then take two steps, and put her down rather than walk all over stage with her hoisted above his head. Balanchine wanted her to come up, then down right again, because that was more fluid, rather than have her head bobbing around up there while the guy was running all around with her.

Martins also demonstrated the bows. At City Ballet, he said, we just do them as such, and the girls did a little curtsy with the back leg slightly bent, without going down on one knee. Making fun of the dramatic Swan Lake bows, Martins went all the way down on one knee, exclaiming, “Yes, yes, I know I’m good!!!” while putting his head down, forehead nearly touching the floor, and raising his arms up in back of him like wings, fingers pointed toward the ceiling. It was hilarious.

Anyway, here are a couple more photos of opening night:

 

Above: Ashley Bouder in Valse-Fantaisie, and below, the cast, including Andrew Veyette, in the same (all photos by Paul Kolnik)

 

I liked Balanchine’s Valse-Fantaisie (Veyette replaced Joaquin DeLuz – but don’t know why because DeLuz danced Concerto DSCH two nights later) but I really loved the first of the evening, Walpurgisnacht Ballet. I’d never seen Walpurgisnacht before and it’s funny but I always seem to love the Balanchine ballets that are the least often performed. This was really beautiful. It’s from Gounod’s Faust, and features a group of women (and only one man – here Charles Askegard) in deep red dresses, their hair down in the second half as the music increases in tempo so that there’s almost kind of a hedonistic madness in the mood – and the footwork is so intensely complicated and fast fast fast. Wendy Whelan even made a tiny little flub, which I’ve never seen her do before. Crazy! And breathtaking!

And the evening ended with The Four Temperaments. I’ve said before and I’ll complain again that I still don’t understand why everyone goes on about how brilliant this one is. To me, there are supposed to be four temperaments, and the ballet is divided accordingly into four variations after the theme: melancholic, sanguinic, phlegmatic, and choleric. But they all seem to be the same to me. The dance seems one-note throughout so that after the first variation, I’m waiting for it to end. I’ll keep seeing it though, perhaps performed by a variety of companies if I have the chance, and will keep looking for the nuances…

“See the Music” night opened with Faycal Karoui’s discussion of Mozartiana, Tchaikovsky’s homage to / riff on Mozart, which made me appreciate Tchaikovsky even more. Then that piece was danced – by Maria Kowroski, Daniel Ulbricht, and Tyler Angle. Tyler stood out to me. As always, he dances with so much meaning, so much intention, and so much expansiveness. He’s a really beautiful dancer.

Then came Ratmansky’s Concerto DSCH, danced by Wendy Whelan, Ashley Bouder, Joaquin DeLuz, Andrew Veyette (replacing this time Gonzalo Garcia), and Benjamin Millepied. Oh, Natalie Portman was there, albeit late – she came in with a friend after Karoui’s lecture and right before Mozartiana was performed. Then, she left right after Concerto DSCH, after Millepied was done performing, and before the last piece. I thought it was a shame she missed Sara Mearns in the last dance, but a Twitter friend said she had a movie premiere that night, so I guess she needed to leave early for that.

Anyway, as usual, Millepied did not stand out to me, and I couldn’t stop thinking of seeing Tyler Angle in that role before and the way he lunges romantically toward the main girl, making it clear how much he yearns for her. Millepied’s knees nearly touch the ground in his deep steps toward her and it just looks like a dance step, not like anything evoking a specific emotion. As always I loved Bouder and DeLuz in the fast, playfully firtatious three-some part. I missed Garcia – where is he? I hope not injured! – but thought Veyette did a fine job in his stead.

And the evening ended brilliantly with Sara Mearns and Charles Askegard dancing the ballet leads in Balanchine’s Cortege Hongrois, while Rebecca Krohn and Sean Suozzi just as brilliantly danced the folksy Hungarian leads. I really love that dance and it made me all the more eager to see Mearns in Swan Lake!

On both nights, I went with my friend, author Maria Mutsuki Mockett. She writes an author blog but has been attending the ballet much more frequently and is now blogging a lot about ballet as well. She’s an excellent writer, so please check out her blog!

WAYNE MCGREGOR’S OUTLIER

 

 

Some photos of the new ballet, which premiered last Friday at NYCB, by Paul Kolnik. Top is of Wendy Whelan and Craig Hall, bottom is of cast with Gonzalo Garcia and Sterling Hyltin front and center.

I liked Outlier if mainly because it provided something different for New York audiences, and the dancers seemed to love dancing it, perhaps to be challenged by a different movement vocabulary. Music was to Thomas Ades and was generally sharp and made for an unsettling vibe, which the movement complemented. Cast was all principles: in addition to Hyltin, Garcia, Whelan, and Hall, there were Ashley Bouder, Maria Kowroski, Tiler Peck, Adrian Danchig-Waring, Joaquin De Luz, Robert Fairchild, and Amar Ramasar. Dancers mainly danced in male / female pairs and movement was intentionally awkward, with lots of sharp, angular lines,  jutting, hyper-extended limbs, at times rubbery-looking as a foot would go from pointed to flexed in a split second, and there were lots of kind of sliding motions in the upper body, which is uncharacteristic of ballet – classical anyway. The whole thing felt alien, ominous, something seriously awry.

Maria Kowroski, Wendy Whelan, and Robert Fairchild shone, as I think they have the bodies most suited to this kind of movement. The audience gasped audibly and some laughed in astonishment when, at one point, Maria Kowroski did an arabesque penchee with her lifted leg in attitude and she swung her leg up so fast and with such force (intentionally) that she looked like she was completely jointless. Then she wrapped her bent knee around her partner’s head — I think it was Amar but can’t remember for sure. She looked like a spider. And Robert Fairchild is really becoming one of the greatest male dancers around – at least that I know of. He can do anything and with such precision, not to mention massive amounts of stage presence.

Lighting (by Lucy Carter) was really cool as well, starting out a bright red, with an almost kaleidoscopic image on the back wall,then turning cream-colored and solid, and creating at times rather ominous shadows that highlighted the bizarre movement.

My main problem with the whole was that it didn’t really seem to go anywhere. A story never seemed to take hold and the movement and overall feeling you had remained the same throughout. Maybe I just need to see it again though.

Outlier was shown with two other, completely different ballets – Balanchine’s beautiful Serenade in which Kaitlyn Gilliland really moved me, and his Cortege Hongrois, with Sara Mearns dancing the part of the classical ballerina to splendid perfection with the very capable Jonathan Stafford as her partner, and Sean Suozzi and Rebecca Krohn ever entertaining as the Hungarian folk dancing duo.

PASHMINA LIFTS AND LITTLE DOGS WHO STEAL SHOWS: ALEXEY MIROSHNICHENKO’S "THE LADY WITH THE LITTLE DOG"

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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