Tag: George Balanchine

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NYCB: A DIFFERENT DREAMER, A BRILLIANT HALLELUJAH JUNCTION AND A SWAN LAKE DEBUT

 

I spent all of Saturday at New York City Ballet, watching both matinee and evening performances like the obsessive I am 🙂 Highlight of the daytime performance was Jerome Robbins’s 1979 ballet, Opus 19 / The Dreamer in which Robert Fairchild and Janie Taylor made their NYC debuts in the lead roles. This is only my second time seeing this ballet — the first was a season or two ago when the main parts were danced by Gonzalo Garcia and Wendy Whelan. (Robbins created the ballet on Baryshnikov and Patricia McBride). My research has revealed that critics don’t consider this to be a major Robbins ballet; Arlene Croce seems not to have written a word about it. Audiences seem to adore it though, me included.

Funny but the first time I saw it, I thought the main male character was a “dreamer” in the sense of being an idealist. Wendy seemed to represent Gonzalo’s ideal. And there often seems to be a kind of charmingly airy, carefree, “head in the clouds” quality to Gonzalo’s dance persona.

Robert was more solid and sharp and weighty than Gonzalo. In his beginning solo, he’d slice through the air with his arms and legs, stretch an arm out, hand bent up, as if to be pushing out against something, or stopping something from getting too close to him. What that something is isn’t entirely clear. It seemed more like he was a literal dreamer, someone lost in a dream that was neither entirely pleasant nor unpleasant, something he kind of wanted to escape from but was drawn to as well. And Janie — I love her! — was all tantalizing, bewitching, taunting little mischief-maker haunting his subconscious, not leaving his psyche a moment’s peace. Whenever she was onstage, she completely captivated — both him and us. Even when she’d collapse in his arms, he’d struggle to straighten her up again. He’d lovingly wrap his arms around her; she’d be out of them in a split second. It was very different from the way Wendy danced, if I remember correctly. I wonder how Patricia McBride did it.

I read a review of a dancer who performed the male lead in the 80s. The writer — Jack Anderson — said the dancer — Jeffrey Edwards — looked like a thinker, very introspective. I always love watching Robert — I think he is one of the most fascinating movers around. I’m not sure if what I saw here was introspection or more like inner turmoil. He was definitely lost in himself — he doesn’t even seem to notice all the lavender-clothed dancers flitting about him, didn’t seem to notice anyone until Janie came darting by and commanded his attention. I guess it seemed more like he was lost in his own angst, haunted by his dreams, than lost in his thoughts or his art. But it would be hard, I’d think, to embody introspection.

They don’t seem to be performing this ballet a lot, but I’d love to see Tyler Angle dance the part as well.

Also during the day was Chaconne, which I’m growing to love more and more — particularly the first pas de deux where the man lifts the ballerina and she has her arms out to the sides and does these large, sweeping steps forward, every few beats lightly tickling the floor with one toe shoe, and it looks like she is flying — and Vienna Waltzes, which, probably ridiculously for me since I’m a ballroom dancer, honestly just kind of bores me. The choreography’s not very intricate or compelling (odd for Balanchine) — it’s mostly straight-forward waltzing, which I can only watch for so long. There’s a middle section composed of high-energy allegro ballet which was danced very theatrically by Yvonne Borree and Benjamin Millepied. That section seriously kept me from falling asleep.

Highlights from the evening program were Peter Martins’s Hallelujah Junction, Joaquin De Luz in Donizetti Variations, and Sebastien Marcovici’s debut as Prince Siegfried in Balanchine’s Swan Lake. I hadn’t seen this cast of Hallelujah before — it was Sterling Hyltin, Gonzalo Garcia, and Daniel Ulbricht. This cast wasn’t so dramatic, so romantic, so intent on telling a little story, as other I saw (Marcovici, Taylor, Veyette), but seemed more focused on simply making the music visual — and they did so to fascinating effect. I greatly enjoyed just sitting back and watching all that brilliantly fast-paced, razor-sharp movement — Gonzalo with his sexy impish bouyancy (he’s not really a small man but somehow he seems like he’s always airborne; I think he’d make a great Sleeping Beauty Bluebird), Sterling with her Russian ballerina-high extensions that she does with incredible speed, and Daniel for his intense precision. This is the best I think I’ve ever liked Daniel Ulbrich before. He didn’t just jump inhumanly high; he really nailed very difficult-looking, intricate footwork and he did so with such sharpness and tautness. If he’d only be given more than just jumping guys parts, he can show that he can actually dance extremely well.

Sebastien danced Siegfried with great passion, expectedly. Balanchine really eviscerated the man’s part in his version of the ballet but Sebastien went as far as he possibly could with it. At one point, one of the corps swans in the back row fell and of course the audience had to go “ooooooohhhhhhh,” but he didn’t let it faze him as his Siegfried searched desperately among the swans for his beloved Odette. He had a minor flub on one of the many traveling turn jump thingys but no big deal. It was heartbreaking when Wendy bourreed back away from him and he reached out to her like she was taking his life with him as she went. Also, I love the black and white plastic swans swimming in the little stream at the beginning and end, but the people working them should just make sure the white swan appears at the right time! One time Wendy wasn’t fully into the wings yet when her swan form began sailing across the stage and Charles Askegard’s Prince Sig didn’t know where to run — the swan or Wendy. This time it was a little late and Sebastien kind of had to go searching upstream for her 🙂

Balanchine’s Donizetti Variations was danced brilliantly by Joaquin De Luz and Megan Fairchild. But what I really love about Joaquin isn’t his bravura dancing but his dramatic abilities — how he interacts with the other dancers. Even when dancing a storyless ballet, he’ll look at the others as they do their thing, shoot them a cocky grin — or a genuine smile — and do his thing, his steps a clever or comical response to theirs.

Also on this program was the newish ballet by Melissa Barak, A Simple Symphony – -my second viewing of that. She does borrow from Balanchine, but her choreography also has its own wit, which you notice on multiple viewings. Like Balanchine, the drama is in the actual choreography — every little flex or softening of the wrist meaning something. At one point, the ensemble of ballerinas all turn their hands and flex their wrists, and it looks like they’re cutely shrugging their shoulders. It’s such a pretty ballet with such mellifluous music though, sometimes you don’t want to focus on the choreography; you just want to sit back and enjoy the loveliness of it all.

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NEW YORK CITY BALLET: JANIE’S DSCH, KATHRYN’S SCOTCH AND MORE VIEWINGS OF PREMIERES

 

 

 

I can see how ballet is so addictive, especially to those with dance training who’ve either danced the roles they see onstage or pick up choreography on sight. It’s so interesting to see different dancers perform the same roles, to see what they can each do with something, where they can take it. A ballet can look completely different depending on cast.

Janie Taylor recently debuted as the female lead in Ratmansky’s Concerto DSCH and I absolutely loved her. I thought she brought a certain vulnerability, delicateness, and romantic touch (both big and small “r”)to the role and as such created a poignant centerpiece to this ballet that is mainly full of fast, frolicking fun. She was perfect partnered with Tyler Angle, who gives everything an emotional, Romantic quality. There’s one point where the girl bourrees (tip toes) backward from the guy and he steps toward her in a series of lunges, arms outstretched. It was rather heart-grabbing when Janie and Tyler did that. It was like Tyler was reaching for her with all his might, but she just kept falling away from him, telling him no, it couldn’t be.

The original cast for the romantic couple was Wendy Whelan and Benjamin Millepied, and when I saw them perform it again a few days ago, I looked for that part. I almost didn’t see it until Wendy had bourreed practically into the wings. Benjamin, instead of reaching toward her with all his power, bent his knees and performed those walking lunges close to the ground, kind of bouncing up with every step forward. His arms were still outreached but the deep kneed, close to the ground walks gave it overall a more playful feel, or perhaps like he was looking up to Wendy, his supreme ballerina. Wendy’s of course such an icon in the ballet world and she’s stronger and less vulnerable and delicate than Janie and so it just had a kind of man worshiping woman instead of a boy trying desperately to hang on to his love feel.

Ashley Bouder has been out with an injury so Ana Sophia Scheller is filling in for her in the main allegro ballerina part, still dancing alongside Joaquin de Luz and Gonzalo Garcia.

 

 

There seemed to be a slight bit of drama going on between Scheller and Garcia at first — I don’t know what it was — he was his usual sexily mischievous, charismatic self and she seemed nervous and holding back a bit (albeit not with Joaquin), but hey, drama is always fun 🙂 I think that has been all worked out though. The last time I saw them dance this together they were right on. She appears to be a lovely dancer and I’d like to see more of her.

I’ve also seen two very different casts in Scotch Symphony: the first Benjamin with Jenifer Ringer, the second Robert Fairchild and Kathryn Morgan. This is a sweet Balanchine ballet, telling the story of a young kilt-clad Scotsman lost in the Highlands who becomes completely smitten with an ethereal goddess dressed in Romantic tutu. He keeps trying to reach her but is thwarted right and left by a group of Scottish guards. Finally, they meet and dance a lovely pas de deux.

My friend, Alyssa, now has a huge crush on Benjamin. I don’t know how it happened; we were standing in line at the box office to pick up tickets one night and he was talking on the overhead screen, likely about his new ballet (I’m not sure because the sound was off) and Alyssa became mesmerized by his face. “That’s the guy who recently premiered a new ballet,” I said. “Oh, he’s a choreographer? He’s cute!!” Then when we got inside and were looking at the Playbills she screamed, “look, the cute guy is dancing!”

 

 

Afterward at dinner all she could talk about was how other dancers (like Daniel Ulbricht, who we saw in Tarantella that evening) were great jumpers and technically perfect and all, but Benjamin just brought so much more to the dance. “He was just so … so… he was perfect in everything he did, but he wasn’t just perfect, he was… ” she waxed unable to come up with the right word. It was Ethan all over again (whom she fell for after seeing at Martha’s Vineyard merely introducing his Stiefel and Stars and saying he was unable to dance because of the knee operations).

I nodded. He does have a certain beneath-the-surface charm (Benjamin that is), and he is a very good dancer, always coming through with those ever so challenging fast-paced Balanchine roles.

But of course I was dying to see Robert Fairchild in the same role, with Kathryn Morgan as his ethereal love object. They were so beautiful together. She’s just so angelic, and he always dances with such passion and boundless amounts of energy, and of course he’s always got that boyish charm that he’s had since debuting in Romeo two years ago at age 19 but that I don’t think is every going to go away. He’s such a hard-working young guy, you can tell — he puts everything he has into his dancing. He had a tiny fumble coming out of a jump and had to check himself with a couple extra steps to secure his footing (but he didn’t fall), and at one point he was a bit too far from Kathryn during a supported arabesque penchee and she couldn’t get her leg all the way up in the air. But, to me, honestly, when a dancer makes a blunder it only makes him or her all the more endearing, more human.

 

 

(Robert Fairchild, Kathryn Morgan)

I loved Tiler Peck in Tarantella — another role that usually belongs to Ashley Bouder, but Tiler brought a certain freshness and wit to this cutesy extreme high-speed dance. Ashley usually brings a sexy, flirtiness to it; Tiler was more sweet and smart. I like both, and, again, it shows dancers often make the dance.

 

Daniel Ulbricht (photo above by Paul Kolnik), as always, delivered on the technical and difficult athletic aspects of the dance — the high jumps the turns and all. Audiences always go absolutely wild over him. I personally like Joaquin de Luz a bit better (in this and the other roles he dances — he and Daniel usually alternate) because he delivers on the virtuosity as well but he makes it more about the character. At the end, the boy here steals a kiss from the girl. With Daniel, the high jumps and theatrics are the dance, the kiss is just a little reward at the end; with Joaquin the whole thing is about that kiss, the mad leaps and spins and turns with the tamborine are simply leading up to it. But audience do go completely wild over Daniel.

 

(Tiler Peck)

I saw the new ballets once again — Benjamin Millepied’s Quasi Una Fantasia and Jiri Bubenicek’s Toccata, and both grew on me. Funny, but I sat in orchestra this time for both — first time I was looking down from the first ring side, and it’s really interesting how different the ballets look from different vantage points — especially the Millepied. Looking down from above, this ballet really seemed to evoke a flock of birds, at times sinister and foreboding. Looking at it straight on, it was still unsettling — with that haunting Gorecki score — but at times the dancers resembled insects reminiscent of Robbins’s The Cage, and later, just figures — one weak and somewhat broken, the other strong — moving in various groupings. My friend Michael and I both noticed how he’d make various groupings or formations with the dancers — phalanxes, Michael called them. Sir Alastair had noted the same, saying he likely got the ability to work a large ensemble like that from Balanchine. I don’t always notice such things until someone points it out — I’m usually more focused on the theme, what the choreographer is trying to evoke, or make me think and feel.

I wish I had a picture of what the dance looked like from above. Overall, I think I still see Hitchkockian birds 🙂

I still don’t know exactly what Toccata is about but I love how there is a great deal of really intense partnering, sometimes several duets happening at once, the dancers by turns pushing and pulling, sliding, strugging with and embracing each other, and I love how at points the bodies just kind of mesh into one another, just melt into each other. It’s really kind of sexy in its own way. I love Robert Fairchild in these kinds of abstract roles. As I think I’ve said before, he always makes a little character out of a role no matter how abstract, and he dances with such expansiveness. With that and his immense charisma he devours the whole stage.

 

(Robert Fairchild and Georgina Pazcoguin in Toccata, by Paul Kolnik, from Oberon’s Grove)

I’m also liking Maria Kowroski much better. I heard she is taking acting lessons and it shows. Every little step is meaning something, saying something, a little quip perhaps, a little retort, to her partner (who has often been Sebastian Marcovici these days) and to the audience. I particularly liked her in Balanchine’s modernist Movements for Piano and Orchestra and his sweet, more classical Chaconne. Huge kudos to Sebastien in the latter for doing some really intensely fast footwork and really nailing it all. He is a large guy and that’s not easy. A friend told me afterward he thought Sebastien looked a bit “heavy” in the role, and I can definitely see that — a smaller dancer would have looked much lighter and more frolicking and playful — where Sebastien brings more virility and power and intensity — but, again, what makes ballet so addictive is the different bodies, different strengths, different personalities, different interpretations.

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I WANT TO DO FISH DIVES WITH MARCELO

 

 

So ABT is in the midst of its week-long Balanchine-Tchaikovsky program, which began last night, after Monday’s opening night gala. I’ve gone to both performances thus far, last night’s and this afternoon’s.

Last night I was seated next to Irlan Silva — ABT studio company dancer, and movie star! (actually, I’d noticed his dancing before the movie; I was only drawn to the movie because it was about Brazil, and only when I was sitting there during the Tribeca Film Festival did I realize I’d seen one of the documentary’s subjects before!) Anyway, he seemed really polite and quiet, but then he applauded and hooted loudly during dancer bows, so is obviously very supportive. I like seeing dancers at performances; Julio Bocca wasn’t right about everyone when he said young people are too into their cell phones these days to watch and learn. And, today I saw Ashley Bouder (of New York City ballet), sitting in the front orchestra.

Also last night, on the way in I saw Laura Jacobs. I wanted to thank her for sending me an advance copy of her new novel, but she appeared to be engaged in conversation and I didn’t want to interrupt. I didn’t see her husband, but I assume Mr. Wolcott was there at some point since this was Veronika Part’s first full performance of the season, and as principal ballerina!

Anyway, first on was Allegro Brillante, danced by Ethan Stiefel and Gillian Murphy. Today it was danced by Xiomara Reyes and Daniil Simkin. I noticed both in this and in the two Mozartianas that I saw that there seems to be a difference between the way Russians and Americans (Latin Americans included) dance Balanchine.

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AMERICAN BALLET THEATER OPENING NIGHT!

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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.

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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.

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SEBASTIEN’S FOUR TEMPERAMENTS, ROBERTO’S DIVERTIMENTO, LA STRAVAGANZA ET AL

 

 

 

I have hardly any time to write — I don’t know how I always do this to myself, but I leave in just a few hours for a long train ride down south to visit Mom for Mother’s Day, and I haven’t really begun packing yet… — so I have to make this very short. But quickly, highlights of my NYCB week:

Sebastien Marcovici in Balanchine’s The Four Temperaments. This ballet, set to Paul Hindemith music, consists of a theme with four variations, each variation representing one of four physical /psychological types: Melancholic, Sanguinic, Phlegmatic, and Choleric. Sebastien danced that first variation with so much emotion and drama and all-out expression that Melancholy almost became a human character itself. I could have sat there and watched him do that variation over and over again. Also, I have to take back something I said last season, that he’d developed such muscle that his lines are a bit off. His lines were perfect this week, huge leg muscles or not! Funny, my friend even recognized how much larger he was than every other guy out there. But we both agreed his size makes him move a certain way, quite unlike anyone else. He’s a large, dark, exotic-looking guy and when he takes a role emotionally and expressively as far as he can, he is really spellbinding.

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NEW YORK CITY BALLET SPRING SEASON BEGINS! (PROGRAMS 1 AND 2)

 

NYCB’s Spring season began on Tuesday and I spent much of the weekend at the Koch theater. Friday night was my first time seeing Balanchine’s Divertimento No. 15, (set to Mozart), which Arlene Croce called one of his greatest ballets, and I can see why, particularly with all the complex, richly detailed variations. The ballet begins with an Allegro section danced by the whole ensemble, the women entering the stage first. But I have to say I felt like the dance properly began when the three male leads — Tyler Angle, Amar Ramasar, and Andrew Veyette– came onstage, particularly Angle and Veyette (I prefer Ramasar in the more dramatic roles but he always has a charisma that draws your eye). With the exception of Sterling Hyltin, who is becoming one of my favorite ballerinas, the men just stood out more. At one point, after executing a step perfectly on beat, Andrew looked out at the audience and flashed a knowing, mischievous grin that made me and my friend (and those around us) giggle, and that set the tone of the whole night for me.

Though all of the women seemed to keep time with the fast-tempo and execute all the intricacies of that insanely quick-footed choreography, Sterling’s dancing had the most dash and flair.

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ALVIN AILEY II: THE EXTERNAL KNOT

 

 

I don’t have much time to write– this week is beyond crazy, but last week I went back for more Alvin Ailey II (Ailey’s studio company) to see their program of repertory favorites, my favorite of which was Troy Powell’s The External Knot. See a video of excerpts from that here.

What I found intriguing about this piece was Mr. Powell’s use of music. He set the dance mainly to Philip Glass (with some Robert Schumann thrown in), to sections of In the Upper Room and Glass Pieces (the section from the latter was from Akhnaten, that fun, bouncy, drum-laden section). I’d only ever seen set to that music Twyla Tharp’s In the Upper Room and Jerome Robbins’ Glass Pieces, and I’d only ever seen Balanchine ballets to Schumann, so it was interesting to me to see how another choreographer visualized the music.

The External Knot is the story of this young man who seeks individuality, to set himself apart from the crowd and go off on his own. But there is a certain loneliness in doing that. But then, being a conformist is not very challenging and there ends up being a certain loneliness in being part of a group as well. The movement, along with the Upper Room and Schumann music conveyed that well. Upper Room is one of my favorite pieces — both the dance and the music alone — particularly that middle section where the piano keys sound like raindrops — it’s somehow simultaneously peaceful yet sad. I always envision this solitary person stuck in a cell — either a prison or a mental institution. Then, towards the end, the orchestral music swells and there’s a choral part indicating there’s a light at the end of the tunnel and I then think of the confined person as on a journey toward that light. I’ve often wondered when listening to the music where in the world Tharp got her ideas for the dance, because I don’t see any of that unsettling isolation and confinement in her ballet. But then, that is part of the fun of Tharp — you can often get the unexpected. And then Balanchine has used Schumann to convey madness. But here, that music perfectly suited the theme as the young man dances on his own, kicking up and out, jumping, lunging, reaching, doing a lengthy painful-looking shoulder stand, his legs bent awkwardly in the air, his legs slowly spreading into an arc, then a full split, his body finally rolling over onto to the ground, while the group dances on in the background — either moving in sync as an ensemble, or fragmenting into duos or trios, all movement seeming to express a longing for something.

At one point, the man is very indecisive: he can’t figure out whether to lead, follow, or leave the group. The group follows him, he looks over his shoulder as if to ensure they’re there, then they turn and leave him behind. He seems upset, he follows them, as if to harken them back. When they turn again and come at him, he turns back around, goes on hurredly forward whether they’re behind him or not.

And then in the last section, instead of using the choral music from Upper Room, Powell switches to the exciting,  rhythmic Akhnaten, where the dancers perform expansive movements in the background — large bends forward from the waist, big, far-reaching port de bras, while the man jumps, twists and turns up front, seemingly more upbeat, at peace with himself whether he is one with the group or not.

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DANCES PATRELLE DOES JUDY GARLAND AND EDGAR ALLAN POE

 

On Friday night I saw Dances Patrelle, who is celebrating its 20th anniversary, to see their Murder at the Masque: The Casebook of Edgar Allan Poe, a world premiere, and Come Rain / Come Shine, a revival from 1986, both choreographed by artistic director Francis Patrelle. Funny, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen anyone besides Dance Times Square perform at the Danny Kaye Playhouse at Hunter College, so, I was a slight bit confused throughout the evening because of that. I couldn’t figure out what Marcelo was doing on the stage instead of Pasha and what people were doing in pointe shoes instead of Latin stilettos… I guess it’s fitting I brought with me my ballroom friend, Mika.

And I’m so glad I did. She had a blast. Said it was some of the best ballet she’d ever seen. AS I KNEW IT WOULD BE!!! Said Marcelo was very Slavik (as in Kryklyvyy, as in man drama queen total show-off show-stealer, as in I’m totally predictable in my taste in male dancers whether it be ballet, ballroom, or whatever style. Oh well…)

Anyway, Murder, on first, was a dramatic ballet murder mystery that was interestingly told. The figure of Poe seemed to be writing the story as we were seeing it, from afront a scrim, and it seemed to me he was changing things throughout. I’m still not sure who committed the murder in the end (but that may well be because I was so excited about the second piece of the night). It had an air of Balanchine’s La Sonnambula about it — unsettling, foreshadowing tragedy, and set at a ball and in the same period — and Patrick Soluri’s music set that tone perfectly. Matthew Dibble, guest starring with the company (he’s danced with Twyla Tharp’s company), danced the lead very well, expectedly.

 

 

Second on was Come Rain / Come Shine, Patrelle’s longish but lovely set of dances for three couples set to a group of Judy Garland songs. Sorry I’ve posted that picture above about 10,000 times on this blog; it’s the only one I have of that dance 🙂 All six dancers in that ballet were guesting from ABT: Roman Zhurbin (ballet god) and Gemma Bond danced the first, youngish, romantic couple; Isaac Stappas and Kristi Boone (who BLEW ME AWAY) danced the second, more mature, argumentative couple; and Marcelo Gomes and Maria Riccetto danced the third couple, consisting of cocky, taunting, teasing, out-of-control man and the poor woman whom he’s got his eyes on. Of course Marcelo had to have the cocky part, and his role, which was very “That’s Life” from Tharp’s Sinatra Songs, consisted of him flying all about and around her, doing every trick in the book — ginormous jetes, Balanchinian continuous twisty jumps, turns and turns and jumps jumps jumps galore — which of course I love 🙂 Oh, and Maria’s tiny, so he did a bunch of the one-handed assisted pirouettes he often does with Julie Kent that drove the audience here WILD. The guy behind me was seriously orgasmic. Mika and I were giggling throughout, and finally, on the last assisted pirouette, I just burst out laughing.

What would the world be like with no Marcelos? Ballet would just not be fun. To say the least.

Roman was Roman — not doing a thing wrong, everything perfect, perfect form, perfect precision, perfect acting, just sheer perfection.

Gemma was likewise perfect and Isaac was strong and Maria sweet.

(But it was Kristi who really blew me away. Where did she come from?! I guess I’ve never really seen her up close before … well, I did notice her before — in Tudor’s Jardin des Lilacs, which ABT put on in their Tudor centennial celebration last season — she danced the role of the lover of the man betrothed to another and she danced with such longing for him and anger at the situation and beautiful composure in the face of despair. But time got away from me and I never had time to write about that performance… Well, she had a similar character here: a woman fighting with her man, seemingly not able to fully trust him, not wanting to give herself completely to him for that reason, but unable to stop loving him nonetheless. She and Isaac (who happen to be real-life husband and wife) are really the emotional centerpiece of this ballet and she acted it with such intense emotion. She made me feel everything her character was feeling, really took me to that place. And she made such amazing shapes with her body! Isaac kept throwing her into these overhead and waist-high fish positions and she’d raise her arms up and curve them over, turning her head to face the floor. At times it looked like she was letting him lift her but was also rejecting him, couldn’t bear to look at him. At other times, she kind of looked like a dove, and in a way she was trying to make peace, so the image made sense. So she didn’t just make original, remarkable shapes; she made shapes that had meaning, and were also original and cool.

And also, her feet and legs — such strength! Her feet were almost like Veronika Part’s her points were so pronounced!  If I was a ballerina I’d want people to notice that — strong feet and legs. I wouldn’t want to look like I was floating through the air like a feather, I’d want to look more strong and toned and powerful, like my legs were carrying me through the world. Anyway, I am a new Kristi Boone fan, needless to say.

It was an intoxicatingly rich evening and I felt like I always feel when I leave the Kaye Playhouse after seeing divine dancing: deliriously high, and then kind of sad…

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GO SEE RIOULT!

 

Over the past week, Rioult (formerly called Pascal Rioult Dance Theater) has become one of my favorite modern dance companies. Artistic director and choreographer Pascal Rioult’s work is like a visual opera, or an opera told all in dance (since opera is already visual). It’s so breathtaking. And his movement style is like a combination of Balanchine and Martha Graham (he danced with Martha Graham’s company). His dances are very expressionistic and full of drama and intensity and his dancers, most of whom are excellent movers, know how to convey that drama by dancing with a real sense of urgency and specificity of purpose. Every movement they make, there seems to be a specific thought behind it. If only all dancers would dance like this…

I saw four pieces over the past week at the Joyce (Chelsea): the world premiere of The Great Mass, set to Mozart’s Great Mass in C Minor; and three of Rioult’s classics: Views of the Fleeting World, Les Noces, and Wien. I loved all of them.

The Great Mass, Rioult’s only full-length evening work, is dedicated to Marguerite Rioult, Rioult’s mother, who passed away this year. She was a musician — a piano teacher and choir director, and a lover of Mozart. It’s so much harder to describe works that you really like than works that you don’t, particularly when they’re abstract, but suffice it to say this was really beautiful, and, again, very operatic. I don’t know much about Mozart unfortunately, but the music is choral, and known as his greatest Mass (go here to listen to the “Kyrie” section), and the dance included all sections of the music: Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Benedictus, and Hosanna. Through much of it dancers wore richly embroidered white bodices with white tulle skirts and danced as if taken by the spirit, in passionate praise and glory.

But my favorite part was the darkest, a middle section from Gloria in which the dancers wore skin-toned leotards and appeared to be either spirits in hell reaching desperately upward toward a light shining brightly from above, or else humans still on earth praying desperately for salvation. They looked almost animalistic, serpentine, as they writhed around on the ground, then crawled about each other, trying to lift themselves upward toward the light. In the following section, three of my favorite dancers in the troupe — Robert Robinson (who looks like a smaller version of Clifton Brown), Jane Sato and Marianna Tsartolia — danced a pas de trois, each woman wrapping her arms and legs snake-like around Robinson, as if they were by turns trying to tempt him and hold onto him for dear life, as if he’d lead the way to salvation. Tsartolia had a more tormented look on her face, and seemed more desperate, while Sato gave her movement a more tempting and seductive feel. Robinson looked like he was trying to retain inner strength. That’s what I loved about these dancers — everyone was so specific in their movement and intent, like they were always playing character.

The second program began with Views of the Fleeting World (pictured above), a long piece set to Bach’s The Art of Fugue, that consisted of many different sections: Orchard (shown above, with the dancers in the gorgeous red skirts), Gathering Storm, Wild Horses, Dusk, Sudden Rain, Night Ride, Summer Wind, Moonlight, and Flowing River. Each section had a different theme and mood and each was accompanied by a different background impressionistic painting. My favorite section was Moonlight, when the magnificient Penelope Gonzalez danced a very sexy, almost entirely floor-bound duet with Brian Flynn. When I was reading up on the company, I read a lot about Gonzalez, and I see why so many critics love her. She is a tiny powerhouse, one of the most remarkable movers I’ve ever seen.

 

 

My friend Mika and I were mesmerized by the way they snaked their limbs in, out, over and around each other’s bodies, sometimes a flexed foot, sometimes a pointed toe, how they lifted themselves up from the ground, upper body, then lower body, touching the floor at times only with one small part of their back (talk about a work-out!), how they’d dramatically arch their backs, how she’d slowly climb onto him, he’d lift her with his arms, on his back (that’s hard work too). I was so blown away; this is one of the most brilliantly choreographed, mesmerizingly, tantalizing, beautiful “sex scenes” I’ve ever seen in dance.

Then was Les Noces, Mika’s favorite of the night. It’s set, just like Jerome Robbins’ ballet of the same name, to Stravinsky’s Les Noces, and, like Robbins’, depicts the marriage rite of passage. Whereas Robbins’ (which I wrote about here, near the end) depicted a Russian peasant wedding set about a century ago, Rioult’s is contemporary, and the curtain opens on four women dressed in bras and underwear dancing intensely atop a set of four chairs, kind of Mein Herr-like, the emotion they convey by turns fearful and seductive. After they dance, they help each other into a pair of bloomers and a corset-like waistband. The lights then dim on them and turn to a set of four men, dressed only in underwear, who dance atop four chairs of their own, the emotion similar but more masculine, more angry (perhaps some don’t want to get married, feel like they’re being pressured) At the end of their dance, then don black, tuxedo-like pants. The two groups then turn chairs toward each other, break into four separate male / female pairs, and each pair really goes at each other, an intense battle of the sexes. The consummation scene begins, as in Robbins’, fraught with fear and trepidation and is rather horrifying, but eventually softens and grows sensual. The couples have overcome the storm.

And the evening ended with Wien (Vienna), set to Maurice Ravel’s La Valse (which was originally titled Wien), which has become one of my favorite pieces of music, the same that Balanchine used for his La Valse (which I wrote about here). Rioult’s version carries the same dark themes as Balanchine’s — beauty turned bad, encroaching tragedy, social refinement embodied in the Viennese Waltz disintegrating in the face of human violence and destruction. But here, a small group of several huddle around each other, walking to the waltz in small steps, one right after the other, almost mechanically, or Charlie Chaplin-like. There is something inhuman and distorted about their movement, their need to huddle in a group, and follow the others. As the music swells, they move faster, but they’re moving so quickly, and in circles, that  they can’t retain their balance. One in the group will try to reach up to the sky, only to go crashing to the floor. The others, far from helping the fallen one up, simply walk over him or her, making an effort not to trip, but to keep their steps — it’s like they’re in a militaristic march and they can’t step out of line. At points they waltz with each other — men with women, women with women and men with men — but it’s a very grotesque kind of waltzing. The women often look like rag dolls, dead; the men viciously throw them about. The movement is very different from Balanchine’s, but the piece has that same intensely haunting, world-gone-mad quality.

I strongly recommend this company! They’re at the Joyce through the 19th. Go here for info and to see an excerpt from Views of the Fleeting World.

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UN BAISER AND SWAN LAKE

 

Over the weekend I saw the French film, Un Baiser S’il Vous Plait, or Shall We Kiss (I don’t much like the English title translation, sounds too much like Shall We Dance and “A Kiss Please” is just cuter). I guess I’d call the movie a sweet romantic comedy albeit not without a bit of tragedy. Problem for me was, soundtrack is comprised mainly of Tchaikovsky ballet music — largely The Nutcracker and Swan Lake, and I learned something about myself: I can’t watch a movie with subtitles and focus on the subtitles when my favorite ballet music is playing in the background — I keep seeing the dancers instead of the little words at the bottom of the screen. I do wonder if I were fluent in French how the music would have affected me — whether I’d likewise have been unable to listen to the words over the notes– but I do know for sure I can’t concentrate simultaneously on three visuals (actors on screen, words on screen, and dancer-visions in my head).

It also made me think how enduring music is. There’s one little scene where a woman is cutely and “innocently” flirting with a man — although the whole film is about how destructive one supposedly simple little kiss can be, what it can lead to — and in the background is playing the Dance of the Four Cygnets from SL. And it’s actually very dulcet, although if you listen carefully, you can see how the music could be interpreted as somewhat threatening in its seductive charm. It ends up being perfect for this story where flirtatious behavior can destroy a relationship. And yet, that’s not what’s really going through your mind during that dance in the ballet. At least I don’t think it’s what’s supposed to be going through your mind? As I’m watching, anyway, I’m not thinking how dangerously seductive are those cute little swans; it’s just a difficult part for four dancers doing challenging steps perfectly in sync. But it made me think how Tchaikovsky’s ingenious music can be used to add insight and emotion to other stories besides that for which it was created. Maybe music has a longer-lasting life than dance, sadly… Although I love that filmmakers are using it — perhaps it will make watchers curious about the music’s origins…

 

Anyway, I never wrote about Balanchine’s Swan Lake, which I saw at NYCB last season, so now seems like as good a time as any… if I can remember it all.

Balanchine, I guess predictably, makes it all about the ballerinas — his “butterflies”. Prince Siegfried hardly figures – -there’s no ball at which he’s to pick a wife, no mental reflection in the forest, no “bird hunting,” no Odile, no Black Swan pas de deux where Odette’s human imposter seduces him leading to tragedy… Just Siegfried meeting Odette at the lake, falling for her, having her taken away from him by the evil von Rothbart and his flock of black swans.

I feel like the focus on the pretty ballerinas eviscerated the story. Prince Siegfried is the protagonist. It’s his story, his inner conflict, his unmet needs, his all too human weakness of character that you identify with, and that leads to tragedy. The story opens with Prince Siegfried at the first of a series of balls, at which he, having just turned 21, is to choose a wife. Beautiful princesses from all over Europe are being presented to him — what a choice! What more could a prince want! But he’s not at peace, for some reason. He’s just not into any of them. Why, he’s not sure, but something’s just not right. So, he decides to leave the first evening’s party early, go out into the woods, near the lake where he often reflects. His friends want to come with him, but no, he’d rather be alone. And then he’s lying by the lake, thinking, reflecting, perhaps having fallen asleep and dreaming, and he sees a beautiful swan. He takes aim with his bow and arrow when suddenly this magnificient creature turns into a woman before his very eyes. He of course becomes mesmerized with her. She — this fanstasy creature — he knows immediately, is his soul-mate.

She sees him, she’s afraid but he tosses the bow and arrow down, tells her not to worry, she tells him what happened to her — that von Rothbart cast a spell on her so that she’s a swan during the day, and can only be human — her true self — at night out by the lake. But the spell can be broken if someone — a sexual innocent, such as himself — pledges eternal love to her and then remains faithful. Of course Siegfried vows that he can do that, right before von Rothbart, who’s been listening in on their conversation, reclaims her for the evening, turning her back into a swan.

The next night at the ball, von Rothbart casts a spell on his daughter, Odile, so that she’ll look just like Odette. They show up at the ball and Sig is completely taken with Odile (in some versions he actually thinks she is Odette, the likeness is so close; in others he just falls for her, human frailty being what it is). A seduction ensues with all those ten thousand fouettes and gigantic, stage-traversing jetes as the climax, and then Odette appears, making it clear either Sig’s been deceived into cheating on her or making him remember his oath of faithfulness, which, either way, he’s now broken, therefore forcing her to live in eternity as a swan and making their love in this life impossible. They go back to the lake, do a tragically beautiful pas de deux and then — in most versions — she kills herself by throwing herself into the water, he follows suit, vR tears his hair out in agony and then we’re shown a vision of Siegfried and Odette together in the afterlife. (In some Kirov and Bolshoi versions Siegfried slays von Rothbart, and the story ends happily, which I find appalingly cheesy).

So, it’s a story of not being able to love who you truly love because of societal constraints — arranged marriage, familial circumstances, governmentally enforced heterosexuality — what have you, along with themes of deception, unfaithfulness, inconstancy, human fallibility, and deep abiding love eventually conquering all those worldly limitations. But Balanchine makes it about this man caught up in this world of ethereal beauties — which is really a ballet cliche.

There are some really beautiful scenes though. Apollinaire Scherr, who I sat next to the night I saw it (and who likes it much more than I), describes well how in the end, the flock of black swans overtakes Odette, tragically separating her from Siegfried. It’s really visually stunning, horrifying — almost like she’s drowning in the tidal wave they create — and you just want to hold your hand up to block it out. Balanchine does get to the action quickly, and he uses the Tchaikovsky score to its fullest — beginning and ending with the familiar competing von Rothbart and Siegfried / Odette themes, while toy swans slide by in a background lake, showing, at the beginning what Odette has been and in the end what she’s been returned to. I do like the sliding toy swans better than ABT’s version, where von Rothbart, in swamp creature form, is shown grabbing human Odette, taking her behind a curtain, then emerging with a swan stuffed animal. There are other commendable things about Balanchine’s version, but I still think truncating Siegfried’s story the way he does turns it into a ballet cliche and deprives it of its power to speak to the human condition. I know people will disagree with me, but those are my thoughts.

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PASCAL RIOULT DANCE THEATER REHEARSAL

 

Today I, along with several other bloggers, was invited to a studio rehearsal of Pascal Rioult’s The Great Mass, which will premiere at the Joyce Chelsea in two weeks. Set to Mozart’s Mass in C Minor, it looks like it will be really glorious. Today all the dancers were in workout clothes, and Rioult (who is from France, and a former Martha Graham dancer) gave them instructions, but I can’t wait to see the fully costumed final product onstage.

I really like these rehearsals and am so glad dance companies are inviting us to view the process. First to begin inviting (that I know of anyway) was Cedar Lake Contemporary Dance, then TAKE Dance, Elisa Monte Dance Co., now Rioult, and perhaps Dances Patrelle, upcoming in two weeks as well. The process of dance-making is, I feel, unlike the creation of any other art because of its collaborative nature, and I feel like being allowed into the process a bit allows me to understand the art form better. I wish choreographers would let us to watch even earlier on, when they’re very first conceiving a work! As long as my schedule is flexible, I love coming to these things. I feel like Edwin Denby watching Balanchine! 🙂

Anyway, more to come on Rioult as soon as their season begins in two weeks. In the meantime, visit their website for info and a video of his dance set to Maurice Ravel music.