Tag: David Hallberg

Posted on

AMERICAN BALLET THEATER OPENING NIGHT!

p5182145

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But now, dead tired, must sleep. Goodnight.

Posted on

TWO WORLD PREMIERES — QUASI UNA FANTASIA AND TOCCATA — AT NEW YORK CITY BALLET GALA

 

 

 

Last night I went to New York City Ballet’s Spring season gala. I always love galas but they’re especially exciting when they showcase world premiere dances. In this case, there were two such premieres, along with the world premiere of a new piece of music set to one of the ballets.

First things first: I missed most of the red carpet events, unfortunately, since the program began early (so as to make time for the after-show dinner, which I am far too poor to attend). And shame on me for mismanaging time like that — that Waiting For Godot experience from two years ago was too much fun. I did get there just in time to see the paparazzi flashing away at (Sex & the City author) Candace Bushnell and (NYCB principal) Charles Askegard. Sweet Charles soon stepped aside to let his wife bask in the glory all on her own. She looked radiant. I was jealous.

Continue reading “TWO WORLD PREMIERES — QUASI UNA FANTASIA AND TOCCATA — AT NEW YORK CITY BALLET GALA”

Posted on

WHO WOULD MAKE A BETTER MODEL THAN A DANCER?

 

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

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

 

 

 

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

 

 

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

 

 

 

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

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

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

 

 

Posted on

DAVIDSBUNDLERTANZE!

 

Say that five times in a row 🙂 (

Last Wednesday, my friend Judy and I went to NYCB for their Founding Choreographers II program, which included two by Balanchine — Ballo della Regina, and Robert Schumann’s Davidsbundlertanze (it’ll be a miracle if I don’t misspell it at some point), and Jerome Robbins’s Glass Pieces.

My favorite was the middle one (whose name translates to “Dances of the League of David” — Schumann’s imaginary society of artists organized to combat Philistinism), and it’s becoming one of my favorites of Balanchine’s in general, though many people can’t stand it and think it moves way too slowly. Made in 1980 and one of Balanchine’s last works, it’s meant to depict the mid-19th Century composer Schumann’s relationship with his wife, a pianist named Clara Wieck, and his ensuing mental breakdown, which led to a suicide attempt, followed by institutionalization.

There are four couples who seem to me to depict various stages of the same relationship — one is older and more mature, another is young, hot-headed and full of passion, another frolicking and playful, and the last and most pathos-ridden somewhere in between, full of loving and longing but pockmarked with fateful misunderstandings and missed connections, generally standing I think for the tragic impossibility of true human connection.

Continue reading “DAVIDSBUNDLERTANZE!”

Posted on

ABT etc.

 

 

Sadly, today is my last ABT performance of the fall season. I’ve been to two others in the last week that I haven’t had time to write about, but will do a wrap-up soon. Finally got a picture of Citizen (above) that shows the costumes I was going on about pretty well. And below is Company B, probably my favorite dance overall of this season, or at least one of my favorites.

Did you guys see Center Stage: Turn it Up last night? What did you think? There’s a discussion going on in the comments section of this post.

Okay I am off to my last ABT performance… Oh, don’t forget to turn back your clocks today, you guys. My main clock (that I rely on) automatically turned itself back an hour last week, since that was the old daylight savings time, and I was almost late for a performance…

Posted on

Zaha Hadid / Mobile Chanel Pavilion in the Park

So, eh, I thought it was actually pretty pretentious to be honest. (Come back, Louise Bourgeois!)

Once inside, they took all of your belongings (you had to check even your jackets and bags, so no cell phones or anything capable of recording), and gave you a set of headphones. Because each room is so small, you have to wait until Jeanne Moreau’s sexy deep-throated voice tells you you may advance. So, you may end up spending a lot of time in a room whose art you may be all that taken with…

First room had some “chandelier”- looking pieces of mobile art hanging from the ceiling that appeared to be made of plastic Christmas-tree-like ornaments, second room a big pit / bowl over whose sides you peered down into only to see some black and white images of leaves and vertebrae and butterflies and such projected onto the bowl’s sides sliding down into oblivion.

The third room was my favorite of the whole exhibit. It was by artist Leandro Erlich from Argentina. You walked through these curtains and sat on a bench and looked across at a wall. Almost the entire wall was obscured by a big black curtain. You were to focus on the bottom, where there was a glass floor, covered with what appeared to be fake mud and dirt. Strategically-placed water appeared to be puddles. Underneath the glass was a really quaint row of 19th Century, Parisian-looking apartment buildings. I thought it was cool because in the previous exhibit it appeared you were in the sky, above the clouds, watching items float down to earth. This one seemed to continue with that theme, except here you were on earth, stepping on all its mud and grime, and the city seemed to be below you. And yet the beautiful city was actually more pristine, not affected by the mud and grime of earth. But then Jeanne Moreau said something about reflections being truer than reality to her, so I figured we were supposed to feel we were seeing a reflection; we were not atop the city after all. Anyway, at one point, the ceiling lights dimmed. The little windows of the buildings lit up, like someone was inside, turning them on for nighttime. Sweet. At the end, the lights in the little windows spelled the Chanel logo. I thought, ew, how crass, you just ruined it! Then I thought, well, maybe the artist wanted you to question our consumerism, obsession with brands and conspicuous consumption. But then I thought, well, since the exhibit was commissioned by Karl Lagerfield / Chanel, no, they’re probably trying to get you to rejoice in that not question it.

Anyway, then we walked into a room showing a film projected onto a wall with a bunch of naked Asian women rolling around in Chanel jewelry. After that was another interesting exhibit – -my second favorite, by an artistic group from Russia known as Blue Noses. You looked down into these big boxes, opened like someone was getting ready to pack for moving — and projected on the bottom were these films of obese naked women running down the street chasing a red Chanel bag being pulled by an invisible hand. It was a ridiculous sight — I’m sure the artists were questioning consumerism here, right, how could they not be… But interesting thing was that the ambient sound for this one was Swan Lake music, interspersed with the sounds of cars and other street noises.

Then, there was a room with some disturbing pictures by American David Levinthal of naked women wearing gas masks, but the masks looked like they were made out of skin, out of the women’s very flesh. In this exhibit, Jeanne Moreau kept saying things like this is my skin, my flesh that I wear, or something or other. I’d have written things down if they’d have let us bring something inside to write with. Actually, I think it was Moreau’s voice and the rather goofy things she was saying (that were supposed to be taken seriously) that made me think the exhibit overall was pretentious. Because the art in itself … much of it was really pretty good — visually arresting and thought-provoking.

There were a few other rooms bearing things like a set of furniture, all items of which appeared to be made from Chanel bag material. A final room was kind of funny. There was a giant Chanel lipstick case inside of which was a giant powder compact, which was opened, and on the compact’s mirror played a film of some women with machine guns at target practice. They were shooting Chanel bags quite to pieces. A voice-over was saying something like “and you said you were pregnant?”
The pavilion is only in NY through next week, then will travel. Go here for more info. Here are some pics by Coolhunter of the inside, though they don’t have any of the exhibits I liked.

Here are some pictures I took of the outside.

Here, am exhibiting herd mentality by doing as everyone before me did while waiting in line: taking a picture when I got up to this lighter sheet of mirrored window surrounding this building outside the pavilion. I’m not even sure what that building was, now that I think about it…

Lovely fall day in Central Park.

Anyway, on the subject of architecture, check out David Hallberg’s pics of this awesome Frank Gehry building at Bard College. It’s like an ultra-modern thatched roof house. I love it! I’m also jealous his fall pictures turned out better than mine…

On an unrelated note, my Explore Dance reviews of the Dance Times Square showcase and ABT’s opening night gala performance are now up.

Posted on

Daniil’s Debut and a Riveting Pillar of Fire

 

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

Posted on

CITIZEN, World Premiere at ABT

Last night at American Ballet Theater was the world premiere of a new ballet, Citizen, by Lauri Stallings. Stallings definitely knows how to hold an audience’s attention by creating spectacle, and I’m hoping ABT sends me some photos soon, because there was a lot to see. In the meantime, I will describe.

First, big kudos to ABT for putting on something so completely contemporary, so experimental. The company has a reputation for being a bit conservative and I’m not sure you could get farther from Swan Lake or Don Quixote!

 

 

So, the curtain was raised to the sound of falling rain. The background was open — it looked like walling was removed — to reveal pipes and such. The back stage doors were fully visible to the audience, and, at points, people dressed in plainclothes walked in and out. David Hallberg was heavily made up and dressed in a bright, richly textured-looking corset, over a skin-toned mesh undershirt and skin-tight resplendent silver tights that stopped at the knees. The costumes were really brilliant (and on more than one level this dance reminded me of Jorma Elo. In terms of the movement, it reminded me of his Brake The Eyes, my favorite of his works, and in terms of the marvelous costumes, it reminded me of his Close to Chuck, his last commission for ABT.)

Blaine Hoven was dressed in hippy-style, flared-bottom silvery pants and a mesh top with a shiny white satin-looking tie. Paloma Herrera, the main ballerina, wore sequined halter top and short shorts. Of the two other ballerinas in the piece — Isabella Boylston and Nicola Curry — one wore a ratty, netted dress, and the other a ruffled white top and I think short sequined pants. Everything was in greys, silvers, and whites. The elaborate costuming (by April McCoy) — suggesting heavily made-up veneers, false masks that we all put on perhaps — made for a stark contrast with the completely open, mundane setting.

Honestly, I found the costumes so stunning, I need to see this dance again; I paid too much attention up front to the clothes and too little to the movement!

Soon, music began — stringed instruments creating an atmosphere of sad nostalgia. The dancers moved robotically, or like puppets, like they were being controlled from above, perhaps like some citizens are? Movement was intentionally awkward, arms jutted out elbow-first, legs flicked out by the knee, pelvises stuck up and out as a dancer bent over, and at points they would walk in short staccato Charlie Chaplinesque steps, with turned-out feet, like clowns. At one point, Paloma bourreed on her tip-toes toward David, resembling the doll in The Nutcracker. Not a real ballerina, a toy version. At times they’d make circular patterns above their heads with their arms, ballet-like, but the movement was anything but fluid. They were all more like dancer dolls, false replicas.

At one point, all the people working in the wings — technicians, the sound gals — came out, dressed in regular streetclothes. They just kind of stood behind the dancers, looking out at the audience. The violins stopped and the lights went on, shining out on us. But the dancers didn’t seem to be breaking “the fourth wall” — they kept going on with their thing; it was only the technicians who confronted the audience, returning our gaze. I couldn’t tell if the technicians were supposed to be participants in the actual dance, or if their presence was supposed to suggest this was a dress rehearsal — “all the world’s a stage” – like, or all the world’s a dress rehearsal, rather. Soon, the lights went down again, the techies left, people walked back out the back stage door, and the sound of raindrops resumed as before, this time with glitter falling from the sky. “The show” resumed.

Robotic as the dancers moved, they were also very human, or trying to be, struggling to seek connection. David would walk his Charlie Chaplin walks toward Paloma, but she’d dart away; he’d put his nose to her face as if trying to know her by taking in her smell, like a dog. But struggle as they did, there was never a real connection. This movement, this following one another, seeking one another out, continued to the end, when Paloma crawled away from the rest of the crowd, toward the front of the stage, and made her way practically to the edge of the orchestra pit. The curtain slowly fell, and right before it landed on her, a hand reached out and pulled her back in. So, maybe they did connect in the end.

It did make me think of the world we, as citizens, inhabit. How much our actions are controlled by others, even in a (so-called) democracy. How much of our actions and the faces we put on are false, but how we’re still fundamentally human and yearning for connection.

I’m not sure if this is what she was getting at, but I’d love to hear others’ takes! It’s showing again this weekend and next.

The program was nicely varied: in addition to the Stallings, were Tharp’s sassy, frolicking Baker’s Dozen, Tudor’s sadly beautiful Leaves are Fading, and Theme and Variations, Balanchine’s super-charged homage to Imperial Russia replete with majestic Tchaikovsky, glittery tutus and tiaras, and brilliant, high-jumping twisty turns.

If anyone sees the Stallings, let me know what you think.

Posted on

ABT Gala: Craig Salstein Has a Future as a Choreographer, and Herman Steals the Show (Or At Least The Second Half Of It)

 

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

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

 

 

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

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

 

 

Posted on

Just Say "No" To Minimalism, Please!

 

So, last night I went to the Guggenheim primarily to see this Works & Process combination dance / fashion program, “A Two Part Affair — Ballet and Modern Meet Uptown.” I was really looking forward to it because, unlike the other W & P programs, which are more of a preview of an upcoming show, this was a performance only to be shown at the museum. Two choreographers — one, Pam Tanowitz, from the Modern world; the other, Brian Reeder, from Ballet — collaborated to form a kind of hybrid dance form.

Also exciting was that Jillian Lewis, from Project Runway, did the costumes. She, along with Tanowitz and Reeder, spoke about the production on a panel moderated by dance writer Robert Greskovic (who is actually a pretty funny guy — who knew! — cracking jokes right and left, making fun of himself for being so out of it as to not know who Lewis was 🙂 I probably shouldn’t admit it but neither did I :S — I just don’t watch enough TV…)

Anyway, the program, as its name implied, consisted of two parts: the first danced to Renaissance music; the second to modern composers like Charles Wuorinen (creator of the upcoming operatic version of Brokeback Mountain), Philip Glass, and Lou Harrison. This second part, I far preferred to the first, though to be honest, I thought most of it was pretty eh… pretty, but just nothing that really blew me away, either costume- or choreography-wise.

I feel like we’re currently in the midst of a rather unfortunate period of Minimalism. Choreography consisted mainly of ballerinas tip-toe-ing around, taking very small steps, men and the sole female Modern dancer doing these small side-sweeping steps, sometimes with flexed feet, sometimes pointed. Once in a while there’d be a leg slightly raised and a very small waist-high lift, but overall there was nothing spectacular, nothing the least bit dramatic about the movement. I think choreographers still need to tell a kind of story with the movement, even if it’s not a full narrative but of the Balanchine (“whenever a man and woman are onstage together, there’s a story) variety. I just didn’t see that here — dancers kind of partnered at random with one another, broke into a short solo, but there didn’t seem to be anything to it that you could hook onto.
And the costumes — well, here are some more pictures so you can see for yourselves:

 

 

 

 

So, as you can see, all of the men’s costumes consisted of pink or blue diaphanous t-shirts and tights with cut-outs that were also see-through in places. The female dancers all wore leotards with exterior underwire bra; the two ballerinas sassy little striped tutus and the Modern woman a lacey thing that wrapped around her neckline feather boa-like. But the tutus and boa were worn only in the first, Renaissance section; they were taken off for the modern.

I mean, Lewis was likely going for sexy– she said she wanted to focus on the body, highlight the human form — but to me, I guess that’s just been done before. Plus, she used such light colors and mundane-looking fabrics, the costumes just kind of almost weren’t even there. And, even including tutus and boa, they just didn’t seem to fit at all in the context of the Renaissance. I then remembered seeing David Hallberg dance earlier at the Guggenheim in a fabulous Christian Lacroix. He left out the delicious candy-apple velvet jacket, but here are some pics he took of himself in the tights. I mean, hello — THIS is what we need to spice up Ballet, I say! I say away with minimalism; bring back Lacroix!

Anyway, I really did appreciate the concept of this program; I think collaborations can be very fruitful and lead to innovation and creativity. Back to the dancing for a moment, I really just think the choreographers needed some more time. There was one point during the second, modern, part where Roman Zhurbin (center, in the bottom picture) held his arms out and each ballerina grabbed on. He lifted, walked slowly around stage carrying the two of them. To me, it was beautifully reminiscent of Balanchine’s Apollo. At center stage was one of the male modern dancers in a kind of Martha Graham-esque pose, body bent over forward, foot flexed back, seeming to carry a non-existent world atop his arched-over shoulders. So, also Apollo-like, yet fundamentally Modern in form. It was like a double-sided Apollo. I feel like they should have gotten rid of everything else, used this stunning moment as a starting point.

I think the rest of it was kind of too hybrid. They didn’t use the Ballet dancers to show the beauty and poetry of the dance form; ballerinas were going on pointe and Zhurbin would point instead of flex his foot at times, but that doesn’t really mean anything. It just looked like a very watered-down form of Ballet. And then both Zhurbin and the female ballet dancers had these very muscular bodies — particularly Zhurbin (aka Ballet god! — never noticed that before; ABT is really under-using him…), and the Modern dancers were more thin, almost a bit scrawny in comparison. But of course there’s a reason for that — Ballet requires great use of the legs, the thigh muscles for those huge jumps and the calves for pointe work. And the upper body is so developed for spectacular overhead lifting. If you don’t show some of that difference in the movement, I think the bodies end up looking a little weirdly unbalanced…

One final thing: writer Claudia La Rocco didn’t see the program, unfortunately, but here’s an interesting discussion she and her commenters started about Ballet’s current kind of identity crisis and how costuming fits into that.