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 ๐Ÿ™‚ (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 ofย  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 ๐Ÿ™‚ 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.

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 ๐Ÿ™‚ 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 ๐Ÿ™‚ 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!ย  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…

DANCING WITH THE STARS, WEEK WHATEVER: JIVE AND RUMBA — Update With Marcelo Photos

Sorry, I think I’m a little off on the weeks! Probably because of the double elimination week.

I’m late with my post tonight because I went to an event at Barnes & Noble. Francis Patrelle is a SWEETHEART! I can’t wait to see his company later this week now; such an endearing personality. Seriously, one of the most personable choreographers I’ve heard speak!

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(I wasn’t able to take any pictures because my camera battery went dead, but Scott Schlexer, Marcelo’s representative, who was also there, kindly sent me some of his!)

Marcelo was there, Maria Riccetto, Cynthia Gregory — looking very regal! — I love how she holds herself — and several Dances Patrelle dancers and people involved in the upcoming production at Danny Kaye Playhouse. Writers of books dances are based on, composers, and even the songwriter of the Judy Garland song that Come Rain / Come Shine is danced to. He even played piano and sang, and he was very good!

 

 

Marcelo didn’t talk much, but when he did I could hardly focus on what he was saying because … who told me he had no accent! Haha, he TOTALLY has an accent! And his voice is a bit higher-pitched than I expected. He actually kind of sounds like Pasha, except with a Latin, not Russian accent. Not an American accent! Anyway, I remember him saying he liked dancing with Maria — that she’s very light. Oh gawd, Francis Patrelle introduced Marcelo by saying he dances with all these huge ABT women! At first I thought he meant in stature, and then he made it clear he meant in size! I was dying, though no one else seemed to be. Patrelle is a total joker anyway — he says he loves to joke around in rehearsal, and it’s clear. So, he said, Marcelo’s used to dancing with all these large women, so I gave him tiny Maria, and he really throws her around that stage with ease — something to that effect. So then Marcelo nicely said something about how wonderful Maria was to dance with. Aw.

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(from right to left: Marcelo, Maria, Cynthia, and Francis Patrelle)

Marcelo also said his favorite ballet is Giselle. I know he really meant to say Romeo and Juliet though, and Swan Lake. Not Giselle! No, again Patrelle set him up for it by introducing him as just having guest danced in St. Petersburg with the Kirov, dancing Giselle with Diana Vishneva ๐Ÿ™‚

Maria seemed rather soft-spoken. But very sweet. And definitely tinier than Veronika Part and Stella Abrera and Michele Wiles and most of the other larger-than-life ABT ballerinas. Funny she doesn’t look that tiny onstage though.

And Cynthia Gregory (retired ABT prima ballerina, who staged the piece Marcelo and Maria are performing with DP this weekend), sat in the middle of the group, exhibiting excellent ballerina posture and stately demeanor ๐Ÿ™‚ I want to be Cynthia Gregory.

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(Marcelo saying something very important ๐Ÿ™‚ )

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(Marcelo and Maria “waiting in the wings” while children dance and others have the stage. Thanks again to Scott for the photos!)

Okay, on to Dancing With the Stars. Anyway, this will be a bit out of order because I started watching during Derek and Lil Kim’s Jive. So:

Derek and Lil Kim Jive: Hmm. That song: Elvis’s Jailhouse Rock; when I first heard it, I thought, that’s the hardest song to Jive to — it’s way the hell fast for an amateur; is he nuts? But now I see why it worked: Len’s right — they didn’t dance a lot of Jive! A lot of posing and posturing, a lot of too grounded step kicks with no proper snap and jump — they hardly came off the floor! But that opening set of pivot spins was gorgeous. Those are hard and she deserves major kudos for doing those perfectly!

Continue reading “DANCING WITH THE STARS, WEEK WHATEVER: JIVE AND RUMBA — Update With Marcelo Photos”

New York City Ballet: Tradition and Innovation

 

 

On Friday, Judy and I went to see New York City Ballet’s “Tradition and Innovation” program. I know, I really should just move into Lincoln Center…

On the bill were Balanchine’s Concerto Barocco, Mauro Bigonzetti’s Oltremare, and Balanchine’s Tschaikovsky Suite No. 3 (I’m using their spelling of Tschaikovsky, with the first “s”; I often see it spelled without).

Concerto Barocco is one of Balanchine’s leotard ballets that makes music visual (the two ballerinas — here Wendy Whelan and Rachel Rutherford — almost become the double violins of Bach’s Double Violin Concerto in D Minor) and, according to Terry Teachout, is one of Balanchine’s most definitive. It’s funny. I’ve seen it before and really liked it then, but I think in contrast to the similar Stravinsky Violin Concerto, that I saw on Wednesday, it didn’t fascinate me as much. There didn’t seem to be as many interesting little flourishes. I still enjoyed it though — especially where the groups of women all hop repeatedly on pointe — it’s so sweet — and the way the dancers nearly become the violins is always fascinating.

Oltremare is one of my favorites this season. I’ve written about it before. It’s an expressionistic piece with some brilliant lifts, some high-charged jumps, at times the mood rather haunting, about immigrants coming to the New World, dejected about all they are leaving behind and fearful of what may lie ahead. My favorite part is always Andrew Veyette’s bravura turn. See a great video here of him talking about that role and the ballet in general, along with scenes from the ballet. (you may have to scroll down for it; I don’t know if the link will go directly to that video — but do scroll down, it’s worth watching!)

 

And my favorite of the night was Tschaikovsky Suite No. 3. It’s divided really into two parts, and I’ve seen the second — Theme and Variations (pictured above, Sterling Hyltin and Benjamin Millepied in the leads) — before a few times. (I wrote about a small bit about it here when ABT did it). I hadn’t realized though until now that there even was a first part.

Well, the first section is really beautiful (pictured at top), and kind of reminded me of La Valse. The ballet begins behind a black netted scrim, and takes place in a kind of Romantic dreamscape. A man, Ask La Cour, searches for his beloved, his ideal, represented by the poetic Sara Mearns, who kind of gets lost in all the women, all dressed in long, floating lavender gowns. Interestingly, no one was on pointe; everyone was barefoot, which would seem to undermine the women’s ethereal quality. And yet it gave the whole a kind of softness and lightness. They were almost like ghosts floating through the air.

The next part of this section was a soft, melancholic waltz performed by a duo — Rebecca Krohn and Jared Angle, which was juxtaposed with a fast, sprightly “Scherzo” by a really impressively quick-footed Tiler Peck (don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that before!) and the always high-jumping Daniel Ulbricht.

And then the curtain went down and when it lifted again, we were in a courtly ballroom in imperial Russia, no scrim in sight, the chandeliers shining brightly. Beautiful as the first Romantic, part with Sara Mearns, was, I still love this courtly celebration the best with the Tchaikovsky music swelling to a climax, the floor flooded with dancers, all performing the extremely fast combinations, the big huge twisty jumps for the men — my favorite. I first saw my favorite dancer dance this part, so it’s hard for me to judge fairly anyone else, but Benjamin Millepied did very well with that first set of continuous jumping turns that seem wondrously to go on and on and on, and then, in the end, when the music starts to go at the speed of light, because he is so much smaller than Marcelo, he seemed to keep up with it a little more. Marcelo is still more leading-manly though ๐Ÿ™‚ And Sterling Hyltin was the perfect princess. Funny, but when I see ABT perform, I tend to miss the women because the men so stand out to me. Not so with NYCB; they’re more equal. I kind of feel like I saw Sterling’s part for the first time.

Marcelo Has a New Headshot!

 

I know how excited everyone is about this! He really did need a new one.

I found out when I was looking through old posts to see what I wrote about Balanchine’s Theme and Variations and this one came up. I was scrolling down and suddenly there was someone I didn’t recognize, at first. I almost dropped the playbill I was holding. Look at those puppy dog eyes! Don’t they just melt you? Okay I’ll stop. But, well, cool, I guess my blog automatically updates ABT headshots!

New York City Ballet’s Tribute To Nureyev and New Lee Ballet

 

Last Thursday (Balanchine’s birthday), New York City Ballet celebrated with a tribute to Nureyev and the premiere of a ballet, Lifecastingย  by young choreographer Douglass Lee.

The evening began with two films of Nureyev, the first of him dancing on PBS’s The Bell Telephone Hour (do wish they still had that show!) with Maria Tallchief in the pas de deux of August Bournonville’s Flower Festival in Genzano.ย  After the little film tribute, out came Kathryn Morgan and Allen Peiffer who danced just that. I really get so much out of seeing the same thing danced twice back to back — I love it when Christopher Wheeldon will do that at Morphoses or when City Ballet does it with a tribute to Robbins, or, like here, Nureyev — and will show a clip of someone rehearsing a dance, and then the dancers come out and do it for real. You get different artistic versions of the same movement patterns, maybe a less polished then more polished version, you kind of remember the movement and see it through the dancers’ eyes as s/he struggles to perfect the same set of steps.

Anyway, interestingly, when I first saw these dancers doing the same steps, I thought, how much would I NOT want to be poor Allen Peiffer right now! To be compared to Nureyev like that!

Continue reading “New York City Ballet’s Tribute To Nureyev and New Lee Ballet”

Favorites of 2008

Okay, here’s my (late) list of favorites from 2008: (click on highlights to read what I wrote about each dance)

Favorite overall dance of the year:

Revelations by Alvin Ailey. Because the movement language — a unique blend of American Modern with African — is highly evocative, richly varied, and, because it’s set in a specific time and place recognizable to most if not all of us, it’s imbued with meaning and feeling accessible to everyone. And because it speaks to the human condition like no other dance I’ve ever seen. I’m still looking for something to top this and don’t know if I’ll ever find it.

 

Favorite new dances:

1) Nimrod Freed’s PeepDance in Central Park;

 

Continue reading “Favorites of 2008”

Tiny Tiny World

 

 

Last night I went to my lawyer friend’s holiday party and met one of her co-workers, a Brazilian lawyer named Beatrice. Our conversation naturally led to a discussion of dance, which of course led to a discussion of Samba, and eventually even ballet. She revealed that as a child and teen, she danced with Laura Alonzo’s student company of Ballet Nacional de Cuba!

She remembered Marcelo! Said she never danced with him because he was so “little”; much smaller than she. I was like, “Little?! No, he’s huge, much larger than life!” She said, not then! What’s he like, what’s he like, I asked?! She said, well, when he was 10 he was really sweet! Said his parents always went to the studio with him and seemed so supportive, which was so cute, and so unusual for the parents of a boy dancer in Brazil back then. She said he used to always get partnered with this really bitchy girl who thought she was god’s gift and she was such a prima, always demanding and blaming him for anything that went wrong. But he was so nice, he was always a sport about it.

So, not much has changed for poor Marcelo then? ๐Ÿ™‚

Beatrice also got to dance once with the great Jose. Said he was huge back then. She never talked to him, only danced one brief duet once. She still has the picture of him lifting her little body far above his head. How very lucky to have grown up in Latin America…

Joan Acocella on America’s Skepticism of Ballet

 

 

There’s a good article by Joan Acocella in this week’s New Yorker reviewing a couple of recent dances at Brooklyn Academy of Music. In it, she talks about American choreographers and their uneasiness with ballet, their distrust of the dance form as inherently European (and snobbish). Hence, their need constantly to compare and contrast it with other forms of dance, even to deconstruct it.

Funny, but when I saw Tharp’s Brief Fling recently during American Ballet’s Theater’s City Center season, as much as I liked the fun of it (especially since my favorites Marcelo Gomes and Craig Salstein danced in my program — both of whom really up the drama and humor as far as they can possibly go), I couldn’t help but get annoyed thinking, why do so many choreographers either contrast ballet with other dance forms (with modern, with American social, with aerobics, with tango — in Brief Fling, it was with traditional Celtic or Scottish dance) or try to take it apart and show its underpinnings, to critique it — like early William Forsythe, like Jorma Elo, like even the new piece ABT commissioned by Lauri Stallings? So, I was thankful for Acocella’s little historical discussion of American choreography and ballet. Go here for the article.

She also reviews, Urban Bush Women and Compagnie Jant-Bi and falls for African dance! Yes, Joan ๐Ÿ˜€

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.

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 :)ร‚ — 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 ๐Ÿ™‚

 

 

 

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.