Tag: Melissa Barak

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Morphoses at the Guggenheim

Over the weekend, Morphoses had its first NYC program sans former artistic director Christopher Wheeldon. They presented two pieces, at the Guggenheim, as part of the museum’s Works and Process program. They commissioned two choreographers – American Jessica Lang and Swedish dancemaker Pontus Lidberg- to each make a different dance set to a score by Pulitzer Prize-winning composer David Lang.

(I wrote about seeing an early rehearsal here).

Using most of the same dancers (most of whom are from American Ballet Theater now, instead of New York City Ballet, as they were when Wheeldon was A.D.), the two came up with vastly different dances, both very engaging.

Lang’s (top four photos – all photos by Richard Termine) was more a study of gravity, as she explained (hence Misty Copeland here “climbing the wall”), and of contrasts between the masculine and feminine (indicated, to her, in the music by percussion and chimes).

Interestingly Lidberg heard the music differently and used the percussion section first, melting into the chime section, so apparently the music had no prearranged order. His dance was more lyrical, with the visual theme of a night-blooming flower.

I love that Morphoses now seems to be using a lot of ABT dancers – all soloists or standout corps members — Misty Copeland and Kristi Boone, Eric Tamm, Blaine Hoven, and Isaac Stappas – because I really connect with them. Other dancers included Melissa Barak, Laura Feig, Gabrielle Lamb, Rachel Sherak, Andrea Spiridonakos, and Matthew Prescott. And Lang mentioned that she also used her husband, modern dancer Kanji Segawa (the man doing the floor work on the right-hand side in the photo third from the top), in her piece, which worked well since the aesthetic of modern dance is more “grounded” than ballet.

To hear the music and see some of the dance, here is an excellent video made by the Guggenheim:

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MAURICE KAPLOW’S FAREWELL PERFORMANCE WITH NYCB

 

Thursday evening longtime New York City Ballet principal conductor Maurice Kaplow gave his final performance with the company. I had never been to a conductor’s farewell before, and, of course, part of what made this extra sensational was that the newishly mobile orchestra pit (photo above) was raised to stage level for part of the program.

There were four pieces in the program: Melissa Barak’s recently premiered Call Me Ben (the only piece Kaplow didn’t conduct), which was followed by Euryanthe, the Barber Violin Concerto, and ending with Western Symphony.

Euryanthe was only an orchestral piece – no dancing, by Carl Maria von Weber. When Kaplow first took the podium, everyone cheered, which grew into a standing ovation as the orchestra pit rose. One thing I didn’t realize (we’ve only seen the pit rise once before, during the first NYCB program following the Koch theater’s renovations last year) was that the conductor can’t stand at the podium while the pit is rising and falling; he must step down into the musicians’ area. When the pit was finally level with the stage and he climbed up to the podium, he looked out toward the applauding audience and took a grateful bow. Euryanthe was really beautiful, with a lovely, almost sentimental (given the occasion) violin section, followed by an exciting drum-heavy climax. It was nice to see the orchestra for once, and to be able to focus on the music.

Peter Martins’s Barber Violin Concerto really blew me away. I’d never seen it before, and I have to say it’s now one of my favorites of his.

 

Pictured from front to back: Megan Fairchild, Sara Mearns, Jared Angle, and Charles Askegard. There are two couples in this piece – one a classical ballet pair, the other a modern dance duo, and at first they dance each with their rightful partner, then the two members of the modern couple break apart and dance with the opposite sex ballet dancer. When I interviewed So You Think You Can Dance’s Billy Bell a while back, he’d laughingly said something to me I found funny, that as a hopeful choreographer he sought to “break” ballet dancers, meaning he wanted to get them to loosen up, not be so rigid and controlled with such straight, upright posture, and get them to really move. This piece reminded me of that. At first Sara Mearns’s classical ballerina in pretty satin pointe shoes wants nothing to do with this crazed barefoot Jared Angle, but eventually she realizes he’s not so bad and they do a quite nice pas de deux together.

Same with Megan Fairchild and Charles Askegard, except choreographically they were more fun, and Megan totally blew me away and made me think she is really a modern dancer. She was the most compelling person onstage and I couldn’t take my eyes off her, despite the fact that one of my big favorites, Sara Mearns, was up there with her. Megan looked like a real Paul Taylor dancer but even more stunning. Her character really taunted Charles Askegard’s classical danseur, jumping on his back, wrapping her flexed feet around his middle, darting in between his legs, really kind of climbing all over him. He looked tormented, then eventually relented and they danced a pas de deux together too. Interestingly, people giggled throughout this part – where Megan’s modern girl is taunting Charles’s classical man –  and the critic next to me who’d seen the ballet many times before said he’s never heard people laugh at that section, that he didn’t think it was supposed to be amusing but more raw. Maybe it was because of their size difference — Charles Askegard is the tallest dancer in the company (I think he’s 6’4) and Megan’s this tiny little thing who looks rather doll-like. I found it cute and flirtatious and now I don’t think I’d like it if I saw it done more raw, though I’d love to see other dancers do it. I’d love to see this ballet again.

Also, as the title of the piece would imply, there’s a really beautiful violin solo (played by Arturo Delmoni), where the violin almost sounds like a human voice.

Last on was Balanchine’s Western Symphony. Andrew Veyette danced the male “Rondo” role and after seeing Robert Fairchild in this role last week I thought I’d never be able to see another dancer do that part. But, whoa, Veyette completely floored me. He was on fire as he kicked his heels up high in the air, sexily do-se-doed toward Teresa Reichlen (who was stunning as well as the female lead in that section), then whipped her off into the wings where he pretend kissed her. She’ taller than he is and at first I thought they weren’t a good match, but they kind of played up their height differences. I loved it.

As usual during the curtain call, the maestro came out onstage and took a bow. But of course this time he didn’t merely motion down toward the orchestra, directing the applause at them, but took the stage alone, and, like the retiring dancers, was greeted by a row of dancers bearing bouquets. Eventually, the entire orchestra came up bearing flowers as well. Peter Martins came out onstage and hugged him. Very sweet. Then, Martins led the orchestra (joined by the audience) in singing “Happy Birthday,” so apparently it was Kaplow’s birthday as well. He’s been with the company for 20 years. I’ll miss seeing him in the house.

Photos by Paul Kolnik.

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MISSING ARIZONA

 

I haven’t been to Phoenix since early 2001 and I’ve been getting a bit homesick for the desert. Everything seems to be reminding me of the Southwest lately – even last night’s NYCB program with Melissa Barak’s new ballet, Call Me Ben, set in Vegas with its Santiago Calatrava-designed desert-themed backdrops, and then Balanchine’s Western Symphony with the cowboys, saloon girls and Old Tombstone-looking stage piece.

 

 

Albert Evans and cast in earlier NYCB Western Symphony production, taken from Explore Dance. Photo above that of the main street in Tombstone, AZ, taken from the city’s website.

I have to get out there soon.

In the meantime, just ordered this book, which looks like the perfect proverbial beach read.

The photo of the little guy at the top of the post, by the way, is taken from the Facebook page of my childhood friend who operates a kind of traveling zoo featuring reptiles native to Arizona, exposing children to and creating respect for their unique little charms.

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TWO MORE NYCB PREMIERES: "LUCE NASCOSTA" AND "CALL ME BEN"

 

It’s been a season of new ballets and principal dancer farewells at New York City Ballet, and, between that and all the goings-on at ABT, it’s hard to keep up! I realized when meeting a blog reader yesterday at Philip Neal’s farewell performance (so nice to meet you, Vanessa!) that I hadn’t yet written about the last two premieres and people were waiting. I was going to wait until I’d seen each once again, but at least with one of them I won’t get that chance since there was a programming change.

 

Anyway, Maura Bigonzetti’s Luce Nascosta (two photos above, cast in top, Teresa Reichlen and Adrian Danchig-Waring directly above. All photos by Paul Kolnik): I really don’t know what to think of it. The title is translated in the program notes as “Unseen Light”. The stage was very dark except for a Santiago Calatrava moon-like disc, which throughout the course of the ballet expanded into multiple discs. Everyone was in black (costumes by Marc Happel), the men in flare-legged pants and the women in tight black tops and big ruffled skirts that resembled trendy Latin ballroom costumes from a couple years back.

The dancing was at times in ensemble, at times in pairs, but the partnerships changed. It seemed that Tiler Peck and whoever she was partnered by were kind of the leaders, and Maria Kowroski and whoever was partnering her at the moment, kind of concluded the action, with everyone else in between.

The music was gorgeous – by Bruno Moretti, but I didn’t think it accompanied the choreography well at all. The music was like something you’d see in an action-packed movie, like Mission Impossible, at times dark and eerie, at times melodramatic with crescendos like you’d hear when the hero’s coming to save the day. Seriously, perfect for a big summer blockbuster. Here … dunno? And weird because they collaborated closely, the choreographer and the composer…

I thought there were some interesting moments and some original movement, but overall I didn’t feel it added up to much of a whole. My favorite part of the choreography was when all the men were dancing in ensemble. Craig Hall began this rather African-looking movement sequence, then Sean Suozzi joined him, making the movement look more balletically lyrical than African, which made it all the more interesting to me – how the same movement looked on different bodies. Then, other men began to join until it looked ritualistic and celebratory. The women had less interesting movement — one recurring theme was when the women went on pointe, their legs splayed intentionally awkwardly, and they’d hold the balance on pointe while the men kind of darted around them, like the women were frozen. In another recurring theme toward the end, the women went sliding across stage into the men’s arms. The several times Tiler Peck slid like this into Gonzalo Garcia it made a loud, slapping sound. But that didn’t happen with any of the others. I didn’t know if that was intentional or not. The whole thing had a kind of threatening vibe. At times it seemed the women were the threat to the men, at other times the opposite.

The whole thing made me think black widows in the moonlight…

I’m interested to know what others thought of this one. Any thoughts? Critics seem genuinely divided, which I find exciting – often they all hate or all love the same thing.

And the premiere before Luce was Melissa Barak’s Call Me Ben, a story ballet about Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel, the gangster, and his founding of the Flamingo, the first Vegas nightclub.

 

Robert Fairchild played / danced the part of Bugsy or Ben – the ballet sought to humanize him, focusing on the person and his ideals rather than the gangster, and it did so simply by having endearingly sympathetic Fairchild play the lead! Jenifer Ringer, who looked like a true Hollywood leading lady throughout, played his girlfriend, the one who swindles him, making other gangsters think he’s taken the money himself and fled, eventually leading them to kill him.

I thought the duets were really beautiful. Robert and Jenifer looked really good together, like a leading romantic couple in a movie. And the ballroom-y period costumes (by J. Mendel) were absolutely gorgeous. I really liked the sets, again by Calatrava, as well. More than his sets for any of the premiere ballets I’ve seen thus far this season (well, with the exception of Wheeldon’s Estancia), these seemed particularly suited for this ballet, evoking warm starry nights, palm trees, the Vegas-y climate, basically.

 

I think where the ballet fell apart for me was with all the speaking. Barak has said in interviews that she didn’t think she could tell the story purely through dance so she used spoken word as well. But there was too much spoken word, and the dancers were often so out of breath from dancing it took them a while to begin their lines. And that didn’t look natural. Something like this would work in a movie, obviously, where there are separate takes of each scene, but onstage with seriously exhilarating dancing, it took away from the realism. Plus, besides Vincent Paradiso, none of the male dancers really evoked gangster. Tyler Angle and Daniel Ulbricht, great as they are as dancers, just did not convince me that they were hit men. And at the end, when Ulbricht came out for his bow, it was funny but it seemed like people began their usual hearty applause then let up when they realized they didn’t really see Daniel Ulbricht. He didn’t do Daniel Ulbricht things.

And that makes me think maybe she didn’t need to have any talking. Why couldn’t Ulbricht have done his usual pyrotechnics as his expression of his character’s murderous nature?

It seems from interviews Barak has given, that she was given a score (by Jay Greenberg) that she really didn’t know what to do with, and since the score had already been commissioned she had to come up with something in a short period of time. It’s interesting how these ballets are being commissioned because when I heard Benjamin Millepied speak about his new ballet at a Guggenheim Works & Process event recently, he mentioned that he and his composer, Thierry Escaich, worked together, talking about what the music evoked and how that would be visualized, but that Calatrava designed his set for that ballet independently. So, all throughout Why Am I Not Where You Are, I was wondering whether Millepied meant for his color-clad dancers to be hailing from another world, mainly because of that space-like object of Calatrava’s. But Millepied hadn’t meant for that at all — it was just the set he got, which had nothing really to do with his ballet.

Is this how collaborations used to work in Diaghlev’s day though? I just assumed Stravinsky and Balanchine and Chagall all worked together to create a work of performance art. I mean, how else could Firebird have been created?

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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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ARE THE 'BUZZIEST' CHOREOGRAPHERS MALE IN THE US AS WELL AS UK? AND DO CRITICS IN THE UK HAVE MORE POWER?

There’s currently a debate raging in London over Sadler’s Wells (the most important venue there for contemporary dance) and its new season lineup showcasing the work almost entirely of male choreographers. Thanks to Pinballpeople for pointing me to it!

See Guardian posts by dance and culture writers Judith Mackrell and Charlotte Higgins here, here, and here (and read the comments section in that last link; some are by choreographers and are very astute.)

Alistair Spalding, the artistic director of Sadler’s Wells, has apparently responded that he realizes there’s an imbalance but can’t do anything about it; he has to choose the works he thinks best. Spalding posits one reason for the lack of female choreographers as being that women are perhaps not as “assertive” as men, but it’s unclear to me what exactly he means.

Continue reading “ARE THE 'BUZZIEST' CHOREOGRAPHERS MALE IN THE US AS WELL AS UK? AND DO CRITICS IN THE UK HAVE MORE POWER?”

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A SIMPLE SYMPHONY at New York City Ballet

 

 

Last night Ariel and I went to the premiere of a new ballet by Melissa Barak, A Simple Symphony, at NYCB. It was really lovely and not at all what I was expecting! The program they included it in was entitled “21st Century Movement” and it was an evening of abstract ballets with lots of sharp, angular motion. But Barak’s ballet was very beautifully Balanchine, very classical — or neo-classical — with the ballerinas dressed in pretty Romantic pink-skirted tutus with pink and white striped form-fitting bodices designed by Barak herself.

Suited to its title and set to music by Benjamin Britten, it was simple in a Balanchinian sense, generally storyless and without lots of drama, but with an underlying complexity in the steps and rhythms, and not at all without emotion. At one point, several men partner several women, all of them doing assisted pirouettes for a really beautiful visual effect, with all the skirts flying about in the same direction at the same time. There was lots of bouncing on pointe for the women, then the men would respond with turning jumps into the air, followed by bouncing on the landing foot, the other foot held back in arabesque.

The main couple was danced charmingly by Sara Mearns and Jared Angle. But as always, it’s Jared’s brother, Tyler, who blew me away. Everything he does is in such perfect form. Ditto for Robert Fairchild, who stole the show in the first piece, Jorma Elo’s Slice To Sharp.

Anyway, at the end, Barak came out onstage for a bow, as is customary with premieres. She looked so cute in this gorgeous white baby doll dress, empire-waisted with the area below the high waistline lined with fringe, and high-heeled silver Cinderella-like slipper-sandals. I wondered if she’d designed her outfit too!

Read Philip’s interview with Barak here.

The rest of the evening consisted of abstract very modern ballets that are not always to my liking 🙂 On first was Slice To Sharp, as I mentioned, which does hold my attention with all its lightening-speed quick-footedness and high-jumping, fast-turning theatrics, mainly performed by Joaquin De Luz. I don’t know if I’ve never seen Robbie Fairchild before in this ballet or not, but he danced on a different level from everyone else, made me understand like never before the ballet’s title as his arms sliced propeller-like through the air with razor sharpness and exactitude.

Also shown were Peter Martins’s Hallelujah Junction, set to piano music by John Adams, played on two pianos. The stage was so wondrously lit I couldn’t think of much else besides those pianos. They were set up on a platform at the back of the stage, back to back, and the back of the stage was all dark except the golden light made by the lights over the sheet music. Some dancers were dressed all in white — including the main, angelic couple, Janie Taylor and Sebastien Marcovici — others all in black — including the kind of devilish fast-footed character danced by Andrew Veyette. I’d need to see it again for the themes, but the shades of light and the way Martins used color were really stunning.

The evening ended with Christopher Wheeldon’s Mercurial Manoeuvres, which I thought I’d seen before but hadn’t. I have to say, I’m not always on the same page as Wheeldon, but I was very pleasantly surprised and I’d love to see this one again. Like the others, and as its name suggests, it was full of quick-footed dancing and interesting visuals — bright red costumes on some combined with lush red curtains at various points, dancers weaving between them sinuously, Gonzalo Garcia kind of the main elfish character full of innocuous mischief.

I found the music really interesting as well — Dmitri Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in C minor, for a trumpet and piano, neither instrument secondary to the other, both fighting for prominence but in kind of a teasing way. At one point, the trumpet sounds very sexy, and the couple then dancing, Abi Stafford and Tyler Angle, give their partnering a kind of Argentine tango twist. Later the more calming, harmonious violins sweep in, and a female dancer is picked up by several men who carry her about the stage, raising, then dipping her romantically (or, if you prefer, pashmina-like, ala Kenneth MacMillan’s Manon, except here it’s sweet, not seductive).

Afterward, we ended up at P.J. Clarke’s. Again. This time we saw Timothy Hutton eating up front with several friends. I was excited but Ariel had no idea who he was! I tried to think of movies he was in but, ridiculously, all I could come up with was Taps, and something about a Snowman, which were two of his first. Don’t know why I thought first of those and not all the rest!