Vaidotas and Jurga Take Second With Splendidly Evocative 70s Style Showdance :)

 

Sorry it’s taken me so long to get this Ballroom Challenge post up!!!

I loved Vaidotas Skimelis and Jurga Pupelyte’s retro hustle-y disco-y Cha Cha / Samba! He moved so well; I’ve never seen his hips move like that! The routine had a great sense of humor and charm. I loved his bouncing around on one leg, the other extended out, their excellent lift sequence, the 70s-style costumes, and that great, very disco-y death spiral they ended with. All so Studio 54; all such fun!

 

Funny because Anna Trebunskaya and Pavlo Barsuk did a retro routine as well; theirs more jive-y and from the 50s-60s, although I felt theirs didn’t have as much spark and fun period flavor as Vaidotas and Jurga’s. At Blackpool last year there was a very popular lecture on the history of Latin dance, where the speaker used several currently competing dancers to demonstrate the looks and moves of the past, tracing them to the present. It was so interesting to see how the dances have changed over the years, becoming faster, the footwork more intricate and the movement much sharper. And with each decade you could see outside popular cultural influences; the 70s period replete with hilarious Saturday Night Fever moves. Of course we laugh now, but back then it was brilliant the way contemporary dance meshed with classical ballroom. It made me wonder what period we’re in right now? Hip hop? The movements are so sharp, so staccato, I wonder if Hip Hop (the club dance of our day) and break dancing have had something to do with it?? Hmm. Anyway, I just thought I’d include a couple of my pictures from that lecture here:

 

Here is the 50s style. How adorable is that dress! The couples danced so slowly compared to today, they danced much farther apart from each other (it being the 50s and all) and everything was very “cutesy,” meaning, the hips were less connected to the lats (back muscles), so it looked like the butt was kind of shaking cutely on its own instead of the hips being compelled to move by the shoulder blade forcing the lats down and compressing the lower back into the hip socket. (Remember the perfect Rhumba walks exhibited by Yulia Zagoruychenko in the opening exhibition? The hips are more connected to the rest of the body now; whereas back then it was more like the dancers were walking toward their toes, lightly, and, with their hips uncontrolled by the upper body, it made for a rather dainty booty-swaying action).

Here’s the cute 60s style Cha Cha, the couples still barely touching each other to maintain “a safe distance.” See how her entire body sways to one side though?

Here’ the 70s couple with their hilarious costumes and John Travolta arms.

 

And this couple — my love Sergey Surkov and his Melia 🙂 — demonstrated the contemporary Rhumba. See how, in contrast to the 60s couple above, her body is straight, only the hip slightly beginning to settle to one side? Now, the active parts of the body move one at a time, first the foot takes a step, then the shoulder pushes down on the lat muscle, pushing down on the lower back, which compels the hip to settle. It’s much more stylized, more controlled, and more subtle than the hip-swaying / entire-body-swaying movement of yore. And much harder!

Anyway, back to America’s Ballroom Challenge.

 

I loved Delyan Terziev and Boriana Deltcheva’s “Money Money Money” routine from Cabaret. And I love that they used the newer, Alan Cumming version of the song! I loved the way Delyan moved his back, the way he curved his shoulders up and over so he was hunching intentionally awkwardly at times. He kind of inhabited the decadence of Weimar, the corruption of money, in his body, the way Cumming’s Emcee did in the play. And her dress and bob were cute and she did the seductive Sally Bowles well too. I thought this was one of their better routines and I was sorry the judges didn’t rank them higher.

 

I also noticed, both in group and solo routines Andre Paramonov and Natalie like I never have before. Maybe they come across better on camera than in person since they’re a bit smaller than the others?… I don’t know, but he dances with a lot of character and charm, shows a lot of expression on his face, and she has beautiful extensions and ballet-based technique. Some of those lunges and the dip she’s doing in the picture above were breathtaking.

 

And I just want to say something about Ilya Ifraimov and Nadia Golina, who did this robotic thing that reminded me a bit of Gary and Rita Gekhman’s techno Standard showdance from a couple of years ago. It wasn’t my thing as I’m thinking it wasn’t for a lot of people, but the judges placed them first because in the showdances they seem to value creativity and uniqueness over all else. This, I think is where Jonathan Roberts was coming from with that rather odd-looking routine he created for Marie Osmond on Dancing With the Stars last season that he received so much public scrunity over. These competition judges go wild for these kind of odd-looking routines, sometimes the more out of the ordinary the better.

 

And finally, the winners, Andrei Gavriline and Elena Kryuchkova. I find their showdances to be rather bland, actually. Andrei used to teach at my old studio, so he’d perform in the showcases first with his students in the student section, then with Elena in the pro portion. Pasha and Anya though were always the main draw, their showdances having loads more flavor, cool tricks, and just overall pizzazz, though they were never ranked as high as Andrei and Elena in the comps. I think Andrei and Elena have excellent Latin technique and a quiet, subtle charm, but, while understated works in group dances, it doesn’t for showdances. I do think they deserved to win the overall.

 

It’s very weird, but I feel that Andrei on his own is one of the most amazing dancers I’ve ever seen. And on his own he seems to have a decent amount of charisma. But together they’re lacking in that department, and that’s extremely nonsensical given how in love they are and how much attention he showers on her, both during dance and outside the ballroom (I’ve seen them together a lot and they’re always all over each other!) Ballroom dance is all about partnership, though, so they have to learn how to have appeal as a couple. How do you teach that: how to have charisma when dancing together? All I know is, they need to take it up several notches if they ever want to achieve real popularity with the crowd. If that’s what they want.

Going over my notes, as far as the group numbers: I love that the camera guy focused so on Vaidotas and Jurga. Thanks camera guy! I guess others find them charismatic as well… I liked Anna and Pavlo’s close, cheek-to-cheek Argentine tango handhold at the beginning of their Cha Cha. It was different. Anna also had some great moves, some beautiful ronde de jambes en l’air (one leg circling the air), particularly coming out of a deep lunge. I liked Natalie’s beautiful Rhumba splits, which she did several times, making good use of her long legs and flexibility. I loved Delyan and Boriana’s costumes, the cherry red making them stand out brightly. They’ve moved up a notch, by the way, regularly surpassing Ilya and Nadia in the standings now, very unusual in Latin.

That’s another thing: Ron Montez kept saying he had high expectations for Anna and Pavlo, thinking they’d be at the top and possibly even winners, since they’re a new couple who’s shot up the charts recently. He should know though, unless something has changed since his day as a champ, that precisely because they’re a couple new to the finals, they would place at the bottom. Those are the ironclad rules of ballroom dancing that make these competitions so frustrating. Pavlo and Anna placed in the finals because Max and Yulia didn’t compete (Yulia, by the way, is not retired, as Montez said; only Max Kozhevnikov, her old partner with whom she danced in the exhibition, retired. She is now dancing with Italian dancer Riccardo Cocchi, but wasn’t yet ready to compete with him when this competition was filmed); last year Pasha Kovalev and Anya Garnis’s departure from competition allowed Vaidotas and Jurga into the finals. It was a given therefore that Vaidotas and Jurga would place fifth, Pavlo and Anna sixth, being the second-newest and newest respectively. That’s just the way things work. I could have told you the finalist positions before the comp happened, as could anyone who regularly attends these things.

One last thing. For anyone who tuned in a bit early and saw the end of the McNeil Lehrer Newshour where Mr. Lehrer was talking about the New York Times article arguing PBS was no longer necessary, here is that article. Regarding this show in particular, the writer, Charles McGrath, argues that PBS is now, in an attempt to get audiences, copying the networks by putting on a dance competition of their own. Mr. McGrath obviously didn’t know that this was a real competition, not a reality show of the kind seen on the networks. He also wasn’t aware that these PBS ballroom competitions have been around now for well over a decade. It’s true that they went off the air for a couple of years due to lack of funding. But they have long been a mainstay of public television. Dancing With the Stars has been around for, what, two years now? I don’t think America’s Ballroom Challenge is doing any “copying.”

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.

 

David Hallberg Stage-Steals Again, This Time in Fabulous Christian Lacroix at the Guggenheim!

This from the Winger website.  (By the way, in the top pic on the post that I just linked to, Danny Tidwell (trying to be incognito in hat) and the girl who I think is Jamie from SYTYCD are in the forefront.) This picture (that I copied here) is the Cedar Lake Ballet pre-party blogger get-together I have been going on about for some time now. From left to right: Counter Critic Ryan Kelly, Ariel, Philip / Oberon, goofus me, David!!!!! (who doesn’t look that terrified at all to be standing next to me, right?!), Taylor Gordon, Evan, Doug Fox, and of course, the mother of all dance bloggers, Kristin Sloan 😀

Second, last night was another Works & Process event at the Guggenheim. This one was in celebration of Frederic Franklin, a delightfully sweet 93-year-old man who’s enjoyed a wonderously long career in dance. He started out in a tap dance ensemble in Paris in 1931, performing with the likes of Josephine Baker, was quickly snatched up by the Markova-Dolin Ballet in England, and eventually ended up with the famous Ballet Russes. After retiring from dancing, he joined ABT both performing non-dance roles in the big story ballets and helping to re-stage classics. In between an interview with Mr. Franklin by moderator Wes Chapman, they showed film clips of him dancing and speaking about his life (which I figured out afterward, while talking with Barbara, a reader of this blog and the Winger, were likely culled from the great documentary Les Ballet Russes), and excerpts of ballets that Mr. Franklin has staged. Two excerpts were from Coppelia, one performed by very good young dancers from ABT II (ABT’s studio company), the other by students at the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School (ABT’s ballet school). The program only listed the students’ names in alphabetical order, but I was blown away by the ballerina who performed the lead in that excerpt. I can’t give her proper credit because I don’t know which name belongs to her; but Barbara and I agreed that she was brilliant.

And two of the other excerpts — a pas de deux from Leonide Massine’s “Gaite Parisienne” and one from Balanchine’s “Mozartiana” — were performed by ABT principals Julie Kent and Mr. Beautiful (center, in pic above, as well). Julie, as always, was lovely and she really is such a beautiful ballerina, so light and feathery, she just floats around the floor. But Marcelo is the consummate partner for her. Marcelo is the consummate partner period. Oh, I haven’t seen Marcelo in months now and I miss him 🙁 … But David just steals every smidgeon of attention whenever he is onstage, wherever he is actually — passing by a damn window… On a stage, he becomes the stage. And it’s not in any way his fault; he doesn’t try to do it at all. He really tries very very hard to highlight the ballerina; he showers all of his attention onto her, whether he’s partnering her or standing off to the side simply watching her, as he did last night in “Mozartiana.” How do I know this? Because the entire time Julie was dancing, I was looking at him. I’m too tired to try to look it up right now, but I just read an article where the writer was saying that Baryshnikov was a great dancer and brought new steps into to the canon and all, but that’s not even the half of what he meant for Ballet; he could stand completely still on a stage and you couldn’t stop looking at him. That’s exactly how I feel about David. It goes without saying he’s a sublime dancer, but that’s not even the half of it; not even ten percent.

In “Mozartiana” Julie and David wore workout clothes — typical for Works & Process, but in the “Gaite Parisienne” pdd, oh my oh my, costumes! Gorgeous, fascinating, jaw-droppingly breathtaking Christian Lacroix costumes. Normally, I’m not that into designer clothes, but Lacroix is on a whole different level; the man is so clearly an artist to me. If only more ballet companies would hire him to re-design all the classics… David’s costume consisted of this bright celebration-red velvet tux, gorgeously loud varicolored striped tights, and black shoes. Julie’s was less colorful — simple beige and black — but stylistically stunning in a sweetly sexy little girl / china doll kind of way, suiting Julie to a tee. And the choreography — I haven’t even checked to see if ABT is doing this during their spring season (a quick internet search reveals they last put it on all the way back in 1988?), but it was the most sweetly sexy waltz-ballet I have ever seen. I really want to see the whole.

Anyway, it was a fun people-watching night. Sir Alastair was there wearing this very interesting red Mexican-y pancho-esque jacket and a gold scarf tossed spiffily around his neck. I saw him talking to Wendy Perron, EIC of Dance Magazine, at one point. And it was nice seeing Barbara again at the cocktail thingy afterward 🙂 Always a fun night at the Guggenheim. The only negative, the museum was apparently remodeling or something and they had half the lobby roped off; very hard to negotiate the large crowd without spilling your wine!

Casellula (and Andrew Nemr’s "Cats Paying Dues" Tap Ensemble!)

 

Last night Alyssa and I went to a tap dance performance at the Julia Miles Theater in west midtown. I’m writing a formal review of it for Explore Dance, which I will link to when it’s up, but, since the show’s only on for two more days, I just want to say now, I loved it. Andrew Nemr trained with Gregory Hines, and it shows in his expressiveness and style. “Cats Paying Dues” is a very young troupe of up-and-comers (my favorite was 17-year-old Orlando Hernandez — wow!), and the performance was charmingly low-key, no frills, no fluff, no pretentiousness (praise the lord), just very good, immensely musical dancing, and excellent jazz band. If you’re in NY, for $39, I think it’s a great value. Go to telecharge (or 212-239-6200) for tix.

I saw a new friend there (a very nice guy whom I met from Apollinaire), Brian Seibert, who writes for the New Yorker — only famous people like Goddess Joan have bylines there, but Brian is a very good writer; here is his brief but well-written piece on Nemr and CPD (you have to scroll down a bit).

Afterward, Alyssa introduced me to this new(ish — it opened last May) lovely little wine and cheese bar around the corner, called Casellula. (They also have a blog, “Spread the Curd”.) Their wine list is amazing and delightfully inexpensive (compared to other nice wine bars), and they have an absolutely enormous list of cheeses, many locally produced, and a fromager to help with your selection. We shared the most scrumptious — and original — duck confit salad I’ve ever had — the finely shredded combo of meat, celeriac, gruyere cheese and apple gave it this deceptively simple “hash”-looking quality — and it was topped with dulcet pomegranite seeds, and baked duck-skin croutons to die for – and I mean die for! Alyssa and I were wondering where we could get more and how unhealthy it would be to eat a whole plate?… Shared desserts were flourless chocolate cake textured with finely ground chocolate chunks and soaked in a light cream that effectively countered the cake’s richness, and coconut crepes oozing with lemon filling and topped with a mound of fluffy, coconut-textured whipped cream. Serendipitously, pastry chef Allen Stafford, who’s in the picture with us, is a former stage designer with the Atlanta Ballet and a big Paul Taylor fan. Funny because when we first walked in, I could have sworn I recognized him; still not completely sure from where but likely some Paul Taylor or other dance performance. He also made the artwork in back of us. It looks like a painting from afar, but when you approach, you realize it’s made all of aluminum wine bottle closures. Very cool! The restaurant is just around the corner from the Alvin Ailey studios as well, so if I can ever get my lazy butt back in gear and start up with classes again, will make the perfect after-workout lounge.

My First Pina Bausch Experience, Dance On Camera, and Writing (Slightly) Negative Reviews

Just quickly before I go out to meet Ariel (who’s now living in NY :D), here’s my review of “Rhythm of Love” on Explore Dance. Basically the same as what I said here on my blog, but more critical. I sometimes feel badly being critical (especially when reviewing ‘small people’ — biggies like Christopher Wheeldon and Jerome Bel can handle it), but I tried to be constructive and respectful.

Also, for people in New York, the Dance On Camera Festival is currently underway at the Walter Reade Theater in Lincoln Center. A lot of the films are experimental, and most programs have a combination of shorts with small documentaries. On opening night I saw Program 2, which included, most excitingly for me, a 45-minute documentary about (in)famous (depending on your perspective) German choreographer Pina Bausch. This was my first Bausch experience and I definitely can see what people both love and hate about her. Funny because, according to the critics, she doesn’t seem to talk much about her work, so to big Bausch fans the fact that she was actually talking was the draw. To me, though, I wanted her to shut up so I could see more of the excerpts of her work the film provided! In one excerpted piece, women wearing very flimsy nightgowns were violently thrasing their bodies about from the waist down, their hair flying about wildly. It was both beautiful and disturbing. In another, one woman screamingly commanded another woman to smile, the woman being yelled at tried but her smile wasn’t big enough to please the first woman, so woman #1 violently dunked the second woman’s head into a bucket of water several times. You can hear the audience’s upset. In another excerpt, a man reaches down under a woman’s dress and lifts her up, seemingly by the crotch. In its awkwardness, it is both unsettling and comical. If you saw the film “Talk To Her” by Pedro Almodovar, her choreography is performed at the very beginning, but from what I saw on Wednesday, that seems to be a very watered-down version of her work.

Anyway, I am now dying to see her dance group (Tanztheater Wuppertal), if they ever make it to NY. Art had his first Bausch experience this year as well, live at UCLA, and he seems as smitten as I! Here’s dance writer Eva Yaa Asantewaa’s take on the Bausch doc and another short in Program 2, and here is a post on the same by Anna Brady Nuse (who is a dance filmmaker). For a good, detailed break-down of the whole festival, visit Anna’s blog post here.

Sexy Costumes, Swish Sets, Genius Composers, and, Oh Yeah, the World’s Greatest Dancers: Two ABT World Premieres

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lit ‘N Latin Lunch

Help. I’ll usually find an intriguing-looking book on a blog or at a bookstore, then order it online at NYPL and have it delivered to my local branch. It often takes a matter of weeks, sometimes even months, to arrive, but somehow this time they all came in at once. I now have two weeks to read all these books, and I’m still only about half-way through the Kavanagh.

Anyway, the book on the bottom left, The Epicure’s Lament, is not an NYPL order, it was actually just given to me by my friend, Dee, when I met her for drinks Saturday night. She was raving on and on about the author, Kate Christensen, whom I hadn’t read. Now, I see that today, one of my new favorite lit bloggers, Maud Newton (whom Terry Teachout led me to) has posted a short interview with the author. Funny, Dee actually told me she likes Maud too (though my friend never reads my blog! It’s okay, she’s not a dancie… 🙂 )

The book in the top middle is a collection of Laura Jacobs’s dance writings from The New Criterion. I think it’s such a lovely title, “Landscape With Moving Figures,” because that’s one really nice way of looking at dance: a painting, but one with moving instead of still figures. I was led to the book after a dance writer friend pointed out to me, regarding a recent ranting post of mine, that a NYTimes review just can’t be compared to the longer, in-depth articles the New Criterion allows. So, I decided to check out those articles. Will post more as I read along, but so far am really enjoying it. Her prose is very poetic and it really immerses you in the world of dance; she calls the arabesques of the great dancers “more than a pose … a phenomenon…”

Last night I went to Dance Times Square‘s biannual pro / am showcase, at the Danny Kaye Playhouse at Hunter College. It was sadly Pasha and Anya-less, although maybe I shouldn’t be too sad: if Pasha was still there, I’d be spending loads more money that I don’t have on exorbitant privates. Happily, though, there were some new teachers, lots of new students (and a lot more men, which is great to see since ballroom classes are usually quite women-heavy), and some really cute routines Tony and Melanie designed that perfectly showcased the students’ varying levels of ability. In the pro section, Jose DeCamps and Joanna Zacharewicz, the new national Rhythm champs, performed a couple of fast fun Latin routines, likely in Pasha & Anya’s stead. I’m sad that Andrei Gavriline, former U.S. Latin champ, is no longer teaching at the studio, because it was always hugely exciting to see him and his partner, Elena Kruychkova, perform. There were a lot more people in the audience than before, likely because of Tony and Melanie’s now regular stints on So You Think You Can Dance (people behind us were definitely new to the showcase as they kept saying things like, “yep, yep, that’s her, that’s the one that danced with Pasha on the show!”), so it seems to me this is a great opportunity for all the ballroom pros to be seen by a larger audience than just the regular dancesport fanatics (like me). I know they’ve been on Dancing With the Stars before, but that show just doesn’t highlight the professional dancers so much. Now they’re having Jennifer Lopez on tomorrow night. She’s not a dancer. I knew continuing the streak of Savion Glover-caliber results-show performers throughout the season was too much to expect.

Speaking of that show: I found it very frightening when Marie Osmond fainted. Ridiculously, I was sitting there on the edge of my couch all throughout the commercials waiting and waiting to see what happened. Right before the show returned, I realized I was watching a tape and could have hit fast-forward. I’m glad it was nothing. I was very annoyed how the judges were harping so on Helio. I thought his rhumba was so cute, so sexy in its own charming way. Why can’t a smile be sexy? And why can’t rhumba be romantic or beautiful or soft and sweetly lyrical instead of some kind of lust-filled mating dance where everyone has to make goofy sex faces at each other? It’s just not natural for some people; let them be themselves. And that car, that car, THAT CAR 😀 I still worry about him getting hurt, but when he pulled up in that thing to scoop Juliana Hough off to the beach…ooh la la! Also, Mark Ballas is starting to annoy me. He’s such a show-off, doing all those cork-screw jumps and high kicks and snake dive things all over the floor while his partner dances by herself. A ballroom man is supposed to be the frame, not the picture, or the picture and the frame. And it’s just my pet peeve when pro men out-dance their female students like that. I was so glad when he went to do some crazy trick and the camera homed in on Sabrina. Thank you, camera man.

Okay, that’s all for now. Sorry this post is so all over the place.

More Voices on Morphoses

So, the first round of Morphoses reviews are flowing in. Thank you Tobi Tobias for saying what I was trying so very hard to say way too late at night (there are plusses and minuses to writing immediately after a performance: on one hand the “afterimages” in Arlene Croce speak are the most vivid and fresh that they’ll ever be, but on the other sometimes your brain needs to chew things over a bit). Particularly resonant with me was Tobias’s paragraph about Wheeldon not engaging the emotions of his audience, or even perhaps himself. And thank you, Ms. Tobias for giving me one brief glimpse into the value of “Slingerland.”

One thing Tobias mentions that struck me: she says that she doesn’t know if Wheeldon’s desire to give the dancers too much free reign in the dances’ creations is a good thing. I’ve now heard several choreographers (Jorma Elo, Wheeldon, and most recently Nacho Duato — promise I’ll get to that review today!) say that the way they work is that they have some vague notion of what they want when they go into the studio, they choose the music, they have a general idea in mind, then they let the dancers go and figure it all out, discover the movement and how best to convey that idea. Helen Pickett even said at a Works & Process event that she lets her dancers improvise right on stage, during the actual performance. So what is the choreographer then? The music selector, the originator of the basic idea? I’ve heard theater and film people laugh when someone asks if they’d thought of a co-director. No way, they all say, there’s got to be one person and one person alone behind the helm of a project or everything just gets all confused and there’s no “voice” to the work and meaning is lost. I wonder if that’s partly what’s happening to me, I can’t always make sense of things in dance because there are too many interpretations going on at once on that stage and there’s no single voice or authority (ie: that of an older person with life experience and well-developed artistry) in control?

Anyway, I so would have liked to have gone to the Morphoses open rehearsal yesterday, but unfortunately couldn’t take off work. Kristin went and wrote a bit about it — apparently it was a rehearsal of Mesmerics, one of the pieces on Program 2, wherein Wheeldon corrected and instructed dancers on the movement, but it doesn’t seem that he talked about his process. There was an audience give and take but Kristin didn’t write anything about. I always like to hear what audiences have to say about something, what others get and don’t get and what they want to understand and know from an artist. Oh well, maybe next time I can go. Damn work interfering with my blogging life!! Also, maybe Works & Process can institute a little audience Q & A into their programs in the future?

Here’s Sir Alastair’s review. He echoes others, saying that the most notable thing about the company thus far was the fame of the dancers (true), but also adds that in his opinion, Wheeldon doesn’t take seriously enough his female dancers, makes them too passive. It’s an interesting take and something I hadn’t thought of.

Joel Lobenthal in The Sun gives a very fair, balanced review saying Wheeldon may not be the “great white hope” of ballet but is nevertheless a young, very talented choreographer “still in the process of finding himself.”

Apollinaire’s Newsday review is also fair and balanced (as always with her), and I love this paragraph in particular: “The sculptural twining of limbs yields imagistic sparks, but they don’t light a fire this time. Wheeldon seems to have gotten carried away by his own dexterous invention.” So, my “meaningless weird abstract shape after meaningless weird abstract shape” gibberish expressed much more eloquently 🙂 She also gives me more to understand regarding Forsythe.

By the way, speaking of my phrasing, James Wolcott linked to my write-up (so wonderfully nice of him!!), calling it “a trembling ordeal of terror worthy of the Simpsons’ Halloween special” as I found myself “buried under a paper mache rock slide of ‘meaningless weird abstract shapes,’ and live[d] to tell the tale.” Hehehehe, I couldn’t stop laughing. I guess it did sound like a nutty Simpsons-esque Halloween cartoon! Good, imaginative writers can make things sound so nice… (Off the topic of Wheeldon but on the topic of Wolcott, he has an entertaining, socio-cultural history of the Twist in the November Vanity Fair.)

And here is Philip, who said what I thought he would, focusing on all of the great dancers involved in the program (although he is also a big opera lover and talked about the beauty of the music a bit too).

Here’s a Washington Times review.

Here’s what Ballet Talk balletomanes had to say.

And, in case I left something out, here is a fuller list of reviews, including those from London, where Morphoses premiered in September.

Kavanagh on Nureyev: Part I A (i) (a)…

This book (the latest biography of the greatest dancer EVER imho), which officially went on sale yesterday in bookstores everywhere, is so huge it’s almost overwhelming just to look at. I think it makes more sense for me to give my thoughts on the book in segments, so that I don’t end up with a 100,000- word-long review!

In the first couple chapters Kavanagh paints a fairly well-rounded portrait of Rudik’s parents and upbringing. (I hope I don’t sound pretentious, by the way, calling him that — I just think Rudik is so much cuter than Rudolf and more original and “Russian-sounding” than Rudi 🙂 ) He grew up in abject poverty in a provincial state in northern Russia called Ufa, far removed from any city with its attendant vibrant cultural life. His family is Tatar, which is an oppressed ethnic minority in Russia, and he was raised Muslim and Tatar-speaking; didn’t learn Russian until later in school. (I actually hadn’t known Tatar was a language). He had three siblings — all sisters — and his mother, Farida, who had wanted to become a school-teacher but whose hopes for an education were dashed by pregnancy after pregnancy after pregnancy, took care of the children while his father, Hamet, served in the Red Army, his status forever in frightening limbo by Stalin’s erratic demotion / murder sprees.

Rudik was actually born on a train, when Farida went to visit Hamet at his bunk, which is how Kavanagh sweetly starts off her book. Much of his childhood was filled with such train rides, and the family at one point lived near train tracks. Rudik thus retained a life-long fascination with the locomotives, and when he was older and a professional dancer, part of his performance preparation consisted of leaving the studio and sitting outside near train tracks, listening for the sounds of the engines to get their rhythm into his body.

Hamet didn’t return home permanently until Rudik was well into boyhood, and by then, Rudik had been surrounded by so many women, he didn’t know how to react to the presence of a male; he seems to have been a bit afraid of his father. Hamet, well-liked by his comrades, was a real “mensch” type, and freaking out a bit over his son’s effeminacy, tried to make the proverbial man out of him by taking him on hunting trips, etc. Sensitive and quiet by nature, Rudik didn’t fare so well, needless to say, beginning a lifelong struggle with his father, exacerbated of course by his desire to become a dancer. Rudik had the best relationship with his older sister Rosa, the most intellectual and artistic one in the family who took dance and piano lessons and would teach her younger brother what she had learned in her ballet history lectures and bring him home costumes which he would (in his words) “gaze at so intensely that I could feel myself actually inside them. I would fondle them for hours, smooth them and smell them. There is no other word to describe it — I was like a dope addict.”

Rudik was introduced to ballet when he was seven years old and Farida bought a single ticket to a performance in Ufa, and managed to sneak all of her children into the theater with her. He knew then and there what he wanted to do with his life, and he never looked back. But even before that he had shown he was a natural dancer. Starting in kindergarden, as with all Russian children, he took national folk-dancing in school, exhibiting such talent and charisma, he was often chosen as a soloist in his school’s performances which they took on the road, performing in hospitals housing men recovering from war wounds. Kavanagh quotes from the (very well-written and gorgeously descriptive) novel, Dancer, by Colum McCann, which is based on the life of Nureyev. “In the spaces between the beds the children performed . . . Just when we thought they were finished, a small blond boy stepped out of the line. He was about five or six. He extended his leg, placed his hands firmly on his hips and hitched his thumbs at his back . .. the soldiers in their beds propped themselves up. . . Those by the windows shaded their eyes to watch. The boy went to the floor for a squatting dance. When he finished the ward was full of applause…” That’s one of my favorite passages from McCann too and I really love that Kavanagh quotes from a novel.

Because of his family’s poverty, Rudik got a late start on ballet, preventing him from ever acquiring full hip turnout (which must be attained before puberty, when hip ligaments and tendons are still flexible) thus making it all but impossible for him ever to develop wholly proper ballet technique. Poor and poorly clothed (in too-short pants, lacking shoes, etc.), Rudik was often made fun of by his classmates, and he struggled not to let their taunting get to him. When he later began ballet school in Leningrad, he was older than most of the students by several years. In response to their condescending stares, he, rather (in)famously, announced he would outdo them all. Talk about haughty, Shane Sparks (who told Danny Tidwell he was “arrogant”) 🙂 And of course, through eating, breathing, and sleeping ballet basically for the rest of his life, he did outdo them all.

Kavanagh has done an amazing job of gleaning so much information (the book took 10 years to complete), but she includes so much detail that it kind of weighs the narrative down. She also doesn’t footnote, which, I don’t know if it’s the lawyer in me or the former History grad student or what, but it’s driving me nuts. For example, she asserts that Nureyev had a “lifelong willingness to let women martyr themselves for him” (pg. 21) that he derived from his father, then quotes — I guess either Nureyev or Hamet (?) saying, “‘At home she must work harder than her husband and when he is relaxing she must still carry on.'” Where is this from? What’s the context? Who is speaking? I need sources!!!

She also assigns motives to and makes judgments about her subject that to me are a bit ill founded. For example, she argues that Nureyev fabricated that his father had beaten his mother and him, and her basis for claiming that this is a lie is that the other family members denied it — as if a family’s denying allegations of abuse in order to protect one of its own has never been known to happen before. She claims that Nureyev lied because he was angry at his father for his refusal to tolerate his dancing: “There was only one real reason for his contempt: Hamet refused to tolerate his dancing.” (pg. 22). It just doesn’t strike me as all that mind-boggling that someone who’d spent a large part of his life in the military and looked down on his son for his supposed lack of masculinity could be physically rough. Plus, if dancing is your identity, your being, your life, and a parent refuses to acknowledge you, then that’s a pretty profound reason to harbor some hostility.

Okay, that’s all for now; more to come as I read further. Here is Joan Acocella’s review. Here is Gia Kourlas’s interview with Kavanagh. And here is a quoted excerpt of a review from John Carey that I found on James Wolcott’s blog. Reading the excerpt prompted me to Google Carey. And look at this book I found! I wonder what he’d have to say about the Ballet versus “So You Think You Can Dance” debate?! Hmmm, this may have to be next on my reading list…

Petipa is the New Black

“‘What color would you say this is?’ Lana asked, handing her the pump. ‘Not quite turquoise.’

‘Oh I’d say Bluebird. Very franco-russe, very Petipa.'”

Hehehehe, I’m really enjoying this novel, Women About Town, by dance critic, Vanity Fair contributing editor and novelist Laura Jacobs. One of the main characters, Lana obviously, is a dance critic, and it’s so fun reading about her world. At times kind of frighteningly competitive and at times sweet. Dance critics so live, breathe, sleep (and shop!) dance, sometimes more so I think even than the dancers… Anyway, can you imagine going shopping with your girlfriend and speaking about the clothing and colors in ballet terms? I love it — can totally see me and Ariel doing such a thing, when she moves to NY 🙂 Probably with us, it’d be more like, ‘whoa, that’s Tybalt yellow!’

My First Suzanne Farrell Experience!

Last night, I met up with fellow dance blogger, Art, at the NY Library of the Performing Arts to watch a newly restored film of George Balanchine’s 1965 ballet Don Quixote, performed by the choreographer and his then muse (and one of the greatest and most famous ballerinas of the 20th Century) Suzanne Farrell. The film, which is now available for private viewing in the library’s research carrels, was shown last night to an audience.

I’m currently reading Ms. Farrell’s autobio (one of MANY books overspilling my night table…) but this was my first time actually seeing her dance, and, oh my gosh, I was beyond blown away. She was just the epitome of grace and serenity and beatific, angelic, ethereal purity. Her arms were like water and her body at times looked like a candle’s brightly flickering flame. I can see why she was his muse! And she was only 19 in the film; all of those qualities that make a sublime dancer thusly so are present from the get-go, several of us agreed after the showing in the lobby.

The film is a bit wobbly in places. The filmming wasn’t sanctioned (making the movie a piece of bootleg!) So, at times the light is so dim you can’t really make out what is happening; sometimes the camera is focused on a dancer who isn’t dancing, cutting off someone else who is, there’s lots of blurriness, and the sound is often distorted. Somehow you can always see radiant Suzanne, though, which is what is most important of course!

Also, this version of the ballet is rather dark, based closely on the original Cervantes, not on (19th Century ballet-maker) Petipa’s more fun-loving, celebratory classical ballet filled with flirty characters and thrilling, virtuostic dancing. I rather liked Balanchine’s more melancholy interpretation. I wish New York City Ballet was still performing it today. Sadly, the ballet got mixed reviews, so they nixed it.

It was really fun seeing this with an actual audience. I think if I’d viewed it at a private carrel or checked it out and watched it at home on video I might have got bored. But seeing it with other ballet fans (some very long-time), hearing their gasps when Balanchine’s Don Quixote has his feet washed by Farrell’s Dulcinea, then dried by her long, flowing hair (Balanchine, many many years Farrell’s elder, suffered an unrequited romantic love for her), their heavy applauding at the end of one of Farrell’s solos, their enthusiastic whispering when someone who was obviously a famous dancer back then came on the screen, all made it so much more intriguing, made it all come alive. Some of the faces I’m seeing at all of these dance events are beginning to become familiar now, and it’s really nice sensing that you’re part of a community, especially in the hugeness of New York City.

Speaking of familiar faces, Art and I ran into Monica in the lobby and we chatted for a bit, which was fun. Her daughter is an aspiring ballerina and currently studies at the School of American Ballet, founded by Balanchine and connected to New York City Ballet.

Art is just amazing, and, after reading his blog for several months now, it was so great finally to meet him! So knowledgeable about ballet, though so young 🙂 He lives in L.A. but was here checking out grad schools in art admin. After the showing, I dragged him to Cafe Mozart because I’m a pig and a half 🙂 to chat more. As an undergrad at USC he took a dance history class with the (in)famous critic Lewis Segal! He said I should be reading Edwin Denby (which Terry Teachout and my friend the great dance writer Apollinaire Scherr 🙂 have told me as well), so when my next Borders coupon arrives via email, I will have to break down and buy it. We discussed dancers, dance companies, dance journalism, dance presenters, theater, London verses New York for all of the above … he recommended for my next Blackpool trip (in May / June next year), I fly into London instead of Manchester so I can bookend my ballroom dancing extravaganza with some dance at Sadler’s Wells. He even knew what was on their agenda at that time of year! See, smart!! It was so nice meeting you, Art, and I hope you do relocate here for grad school 🙂 In the meantime, keep blogging!

Hahaha, Where’s the Dorky Waldo?!

ha, I can’t believe it but Barbara recognized me in this picture, in the Times today, accompanying Jennifer Dunning’s article on the “States & Resemblance” piece I blogged about earlier this week. How did you see me, Barbara; I almost didn’t see myself?!! Haha, how embarrassing 🙂 (I’m in back, holding the paper in front of my face, a shiny pink metallic purse at my side, and head cocked and looking all pensive — what a goof!) Thanks for pointing it out to me, Barbara! Okay, this is the second time I’ve been nameless in the NYTimes! 🙂