Just a few random things:
Here’s an interview with Pasha Kovalev (thanks to Sharon for the link);
There’s a ballet just opening in London that is inspired by Dostoevsky’s many changing drafts of “The Idiot”, and stars Carlos Acosta, which sounds really interesting (via Maud);
And this looks fascinating!
Also, a friend of mine teaches autistic children and wants to know if there’s a dance school, preferably in Manhattan or Brooklyn that caters to special needs children. Does anyone know of one?
Last night I went to see the Kirov Ballet (based in St. Petersburg, Russia) currently performing (through this weekend) at New York’s City Center. I chose to see their all Forsythe program, since I haven’t seen much Forsythe, particularly his ballets. William Forsythe is a postmodern American choreographer who moved to Germany after poor reception to his work here. I’ve seen only a couple of his works, both of them recently made, which I wrote about here and here.
Anyway, I loved it! I’m reviewing the program for Explore Dance and I’ll link to my review once it’s up, but I love how Forsythe challenges the boundaries of both performance and ballet. Space-age looking tutus, classical movement that looks ever so slightly off-kilter, theater lights going on and off and curtains falling throughout the performance, classical poses intertwined with postmodern, harsh yet rhythmic music, dancers taking the stage to talk with each other and practice dance phrases all the while before an actual audience, ballerinas appearing to lift themselves, their men seeming to work against rather than with them, fast jumps and virtuostic leaps taken to their allegro extreme… Plus, I loved Elena Sheshina. It was mesmerizing simply watching her “practice” her routine over and over and over again. And it’s always a delight to watch shaggy-haired, deliciously mischievious-looking Mikhail Lobukhin (here he is dancing) (and in bottom photo above), and the liquidy Alexander Sergeev, whose limbs flow like water.
Afterward I walked down 55th Street to the Alvin Ailey studios to see filmmaker David Michalek‘s latest installation, of slow motion videos of the Ailey dancers.
It was cold so I didn’t stay long enough to see all of them. But I will defintely be back throughout the summer!
I’m very behind on my blogging, but I just wanted to post a bit about an intriguing group I saw last week at Symphony Space, Dance Brazil. The dance troupe, based in the Bahian region of Brazil and directed by Jelon Vieira, performed a medley of modern dance with Brazilian-based movement, Samba (which made me happy), and a dance form that I, shamefully, haven’t seen much of before: Capoeria.
Capoeria is an Afro-Brazilian dance that grew out of slavery; the movement was originally a means of self-defense for slaves against their oppressors, and involved athletic, martial arts-type feats. Over time, it became more stylized and evolved into an art form.
It actually looked to me to be a balletic form of martial arts. Dancers would pretend-kick, lash out at, and jump over each other, but in a very stylized way. And because the athleticism was so functional, so meaningful, it didn’t take over or negate the artistic. For example, there were a lot of barrel turns (but with bent knees and flexed feet), but unlike in ballet, where such wondrous mid-air-turning leaps would be considered tricks whose main purpose is to wow audiences, here it was more like an arty means of trickery: one man would come at the other as if to “capture” him, and the first would make him think he was going to succeed, then, at the last minute, do a flying leap over the guy. It was just brilliant. Definitely made me want to see more.
Unfortunately, it appears that they are no longer at Symphony Space, but if you ever have the chance to see this group, I highly recommend them. And read more about capoeria here, here, and here; also here’s a video of another Brazilian group performing the dance, and here’s a fun video of breakdancers competing with capoeria artists.
Tomorrow night (Thursday, April 3rd) Bravo network is finally going to premiere their new dance show, “Step It Up and Dance.” Hosted by Elizabeth Berkeley, this one is supposed to be similar to “So You Think You Can Dance,” with contestants who have at least some dance experience competing in a variety of dance styles for overall best — except there are more styles here, including Ballet (yay, finally!) and burlesque.
Bravo has put out some good shows (Project Runway), so I have high hopes for this one. It’ll be on tomorrow night at 11 p.m. EST. Go here for more details.
Today, Ariel and I went to the Abyssinian Baptist Church in Harlem, which is currently celebrating its 200th anniversary. The church was founded in 1808 when it separated from a larger demonimation because of racial segregation.
But today Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater was also celebrating its 50th anniversary, today’s event part of its faith-based honoring of the spiritual heritage of Mr. Ailey’s life work, which took place in churches throughout New York and the country, including Rogers, Texas, Alvin Ailey’s own hometown. We were very lucky: at our event, Judith Jamison, artistic director and former dancer extraordinare with Ailey attended and gave a brief speech about Mr. Ailey’s roots in the church. I also spotted a couple of Ailey dancers in the audience, including the illustrious Renee Robinson.
It was a blast! Former Ailey dancer Nasha Thomas-Schmitt, who heads the Ailey Camp outreach program, giving dance lessons to inner-city youth, trained several children in the congregation to dance the opening of “Revelations” — the “I’ve Been ‘Buked” section (pictured above; also see video here, beginning section). So as the choir sang that song, the children walked down the aisles, dressed in the same styled costumes as the original Ailey dancers, up to the pulpit, where they danced — doing everything perfectly! I almost started giggling when the tallest boy in the center reached upward with his arms, leading his “flock.” It was adorable, and he was right on!
The choir also sang “Rock A My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham,” my favorite song in “Revelations” (see the last section of that above video). There was no music here; rather the different choral sections provided the harmony, and the melody. They sang repeated choruses, in so many different chords; it was amazing.
The regular minister, Dr. Rev. Calvin O. Butts, allowed one of the junior ministers, Rev. Eboni Marshall, to give the sermon, since she had previously danced with Alvin Ailey. Her sermon was themed “The Show Must Go On,” the message being mainly that no matter how bad things get for you, your show’s not over and God is there for you. She talked about what being a member of Alvin Ailey had meant to her. She said it “taught me, first of all, to stand up straight.” The audience cheered. She said Ailey also gave her a solid work ethic, self-respect and discipline, and taught her that no matter what happened, no matter how much her body ached, no matter how many last-minute set problems the troupe encountered, etc., the show simply had to go on, no excuses.
This was my first time at an African-American church, and I just have to say, it was so much more lively (to make a huge understatement!) than any white church I’ve been to (at least in Arizona). Rev. Marshall spoke theatrically and emphatically, and the audience was very participatory, shouting “Oh Yes!”‘s, and “Um-HUMS!”, and “Oh, He’s coming!”s throughout, fists pounding the air. It was great! Back home, people sit there in near complete silence and the minister talks in the droning pitch of a shrink.
Afterward, Ariel and I went around the corner to a small but down-home-looking restaurant for southern food, called Miss Maud’s SpoonBread. We were going to go to the famous Sylvia’s, but then I realized I was hungry and wasn’t in a mood to wait in a huge line with other “Harlem tourists” and pay a bundle, and small local joints are often better anyway. I’m glad we decided on Miss Maud’s because they had a nice spacious booth, the likes of which I haven’t seen in Manhattan, and it was just a cozy little place. I had my first brunch of fried chicken and waffles, which was delicious, albeit enormous. They had biscuits, just like the biscuits ‘n gravy I’ve had in North Carolina visiting Mom, but these were tiny and shaped like hearts. I thought they were cute, so I had to snap a picture… Anyway, it was a most excellent day!
Friday night I was finally able to see the Brazilian dance troupe, Grupo Corpo, live. I’ve seen videos, and have heard so much about them, through Brazilian friends. So, I’ve been wanting to see them for a while, and I was very happy when they finally came to Brooklyn.
Founded in 1975, the troupe, from the Brazilian province of Belo Horizonte, combines ballet with different forms of Brazilian dance and cultural influences — African, Latin, Native American, Portuguese etc. I saw two pieces, “Benguele” and “Breu”, both choreographed by resident choreographer and co-founder, Rodrigo Pederneiras.
I liked the first, “Benguele” best. I saw it as a celebration of the cultural stew that is contemporary Brazil, melding a variety of movement — West African, Samba, capoeira, Portuguese folk, and even jazz — and a variety of sound, from folksy acoustic guitars to orchestral strings, to, my favorite, pulsating African drums. The running theme was a person trying to make his or her way across the stage, or a people trying to find their home, perhaps the result of a diaspora. The dancers moved back and forth and back and forth across stage with a variety of movement. The most common “walk” was the body bent way over at the waist, the arms hanging down, the hands almost touching the floor, almost dragging along it. But the lower body moved to the beats, which gave the walk a definite style and rhythm. So, although the person looked tired and world-weary, bent over from old age or a life of intense, perhaps slave labor, he continued on, like nothing was going to stop him from finding his destination.
At other times, people would move across the stage sideways, knees deeply bent, in a deep lunge. They were very animalistic, looking at times like crabs, at times like insects, and at times like jaguars or panthers. Sometimes, dancers would suddenly dart up from these crouched positions, legs kicking out, like a martial artist fighting his way out of a bad situation but with style and grace, intellect, and artistry — the super-charged, acrobatic capoeira. Some would nearly fly across stage in a quick jazzy skip. Some would slither in loose, pelvic rotating forward samba walks, or side-stepping samba voltas.
There’s nothing more fun, by the way, than recognizing a move! I see now why ballet is so popular amongst people with ballet training. It’s really interesting to see others do a step you’ve struggled with yourself, or to see a choreographer’s unique take on that step.
At times two people would dance together, trotting across the stage happily in a waltzy, swingy pas de deux, illustrating the position social dance has held in Brazilian culture.
At the end, all movement seemed to meld together, like it was blended into one continuous rhythm. The backdrop became a series of vertical stripes, each color represented, and each dancer wore different-colored sashes criss-crossed over his or her torso, a rainbow medley.
The second piece, “Breu,” I liked less than “Benguele,” but it was still good. In this piece, all dancers were dressed in zebra-striped or almost blindingly checkered costumes that at times looked imprisoning like a straight-jacket, at times intriguingly geometric like a compelling architectural model. This piece was much more obviously violent than the first, as dancers thrashed against each other, threw themselves down to the ground, kicked and pushed each other.
At other times, they would refrain from going at each other, to lie down or stand in a row, making various visual shapes with their geometric-patterned bodies. But the movements in line or on the ground would still be fraught with intense emotion. And soon the thrashing pas de deux would return. The Playbill notes that this work was intended to “evoke the dark times in which we live” and to show “the violence and brutality encountered in daily life.” I definitely saw those, but didn’t think it really progressed; it seemed too one note to me.
Another thing I noticed is that most of the members seemed to be white, though there were a couple of black male dancers. I’ve never been to Brazil (yet!) but thought it was a very mixed race society. My friend, Alyssa, and I had noticed the same of Mimulus, when we saw them at Jacob’s Pillow over the summer. Not a criticism or anything; just something I found curious. It’s the same here, of course, with most of the large professional dance companies, especially the ones specializing in ballet. I just wonder if the underlying reasons for that are the same.
Anyway, I really enjoyed Grupo Corpo, especially the wonderful Benguele, and will definitely look forward to more by them!
Today marked the beginning of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater’s 18-month-long fiftieth anniversary celebration. I was unable to go to the performance since I was at the trial, but fortunately for me — for all of us! — they have events happening throughout the next year and a half, both in NY and throughout the country, and the world. Go here for a list. In particular, they’re going to be performing in several different churches throughout New York / New Jersey, Texas, Georgia, Illinois, and Pennsylvania as part of their Faith-Based Initiative, beginning at the Abyssinian Baptist Church in Manhattan this Sunday. An archive exhibit will be on display in Washington DC in May, and will move to Los Angeles later in the year. And in August, there will be several free performances and open dance classes throughout NYC. And, remember David Michalek’s Slow Dancing videos that I blogged about last summer ad nauseam? Well, he’s made one of Ailey dancers and it’ll be showing on the facade of their studios on 9th Avenue and 55th Street in Manhattan throughout the entire anniversary celebration. Free art, what more could you ask for!
There are tons of events though, so do go here for more details. And please don’t miss them if they come to your neck of the woods on tour. Global tour begins in September, and US in January. Happy year!
On Friday night I went to the Museum of Natural History to see the new Bjork video. Thanks to the Misnomer Blog on Great Dance for the heads up. We had to wait in line outside for nearly 45 minutes because they ended up having a much greater showing than expected and had to figure out how they were going to accommodate us all. Once we got inside the organizer said he didn’t realize so many people even knew about it. Apparently a lot of people read Great Dance 😀 I was one of the last people allowed inside and I got there over 1/2 hour early.
On our way in, they handed us the 3D glasses. After the first showing of the 8-minute video, the filmmakers showed some slides — also in 3D — and held a Q&A. Bjork was in attendance — a surprise; no one seemed to have seen her in the audience, but after an audience member asked one of the filmmakers what it was like to work with her, she came up and gave her sincere thanks to everyone. I also spotted Chris Elam, director of Misnomer Dance Theater (which I’ve written about here), in the audience, as well as the dancer from his troupe who was featured in the video. Since they don’t have dancer headshots on their website, I don’t know her name, but if you’re familiar with the group, she’s the smallish dancer with short, brown hair.
The reason I was interested in the video was Misnomer’s involvement — Elam choreographed the dance sequences. Unfortunately there weren’t as many of those as I was hoping for; one of the filmmakers explained that they had to be cut because they were too difficult to film. But you could easily see Elam’s influence in the video. As Bjork journeys down a stringy Himalayan river atop a big yak with friendly blinking eyes, a pair of arms and legs slowly grows from Bjork’s backpack, and she kind of gives birth to this alternate identity, which the Misnomer dancer embodies. The dancer breezes along atop Bjork, riding piggyback for a while, at first tiny, wiry-limbed and childlike. But the two soon begin to struggle with each other, culminating in a tumbling sequence where she and Bjork sommersault over each other repeatedly, at times looking like some kind of exotic creature. When asked where he got the idea for that sequence, the filmmaker said from watching some Swing dancers screwing around, which cracked me up. They should have had Elam speak a bit.
The filmmakers said they plan to show the video via analog on the internet, and in movie theaters at the beginning of select 3D films.
I’m writing a review of this for Explore Dance, so will make this short; I wanted to post something quickly since it’s only showing tonight and tomorrow (Sunday) matinee.
It’s funny to me that dance-makers and fans always complain that critics are destroying dance with their negative reviews. I think they often do the opposite, creating loads of hype, sometimes deserved, sometimes not. And you don’t know which it is until you’ve seen the program. In this case, I’d say the program is worth seeing, but not for the reasons the critics say. The highlight to me was the brilliant brilliant Desmond Richardson of Complexions Contemporary Ballet, in the third ballet of the night, “Three Point Turn,” Dwight Rhoden’s exciting piece about the turbulence of male / female relationships. Richardson had two breathtaking solos that brought the crowd, rightly, to its feet. For a ballet-trained dancer he excels at the sharp, angular, staccato movements that are the hallmark of modern. He’s really a marvel.
I also enjoyed in that last piece Kirov danseur Mikhail Lobukhin. He’s a muscular man with a longish blonde mane and highly arched feet that, when he points, enable him to make beautiful lines. He has kind of an androgynous appeal, which works well for this piece in which masculine violent passion and feminine romantic love are often evoked simultaneously.
In the first ballet of the evening, Alexei Ratmansky’s “Pierrot Lunaire,” which aims to put to dance a set of Fifteenth-Century European poems about a clown’s descent into madness and back again, and in which the clown is depicted alternately by four dancers (all from the Kirov), Alexander Sergeev was my favorite. He interpreted his clown’s changing happiness, sadness, sexual fervor, and madness with the most pathos, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
The show is meant to celebrate Diana Vishneva, the Russian ballerina who is currently a principal with American Ballet Theater as well as the Kirov Ballet, or Mariinsky Theater, in St. Petersburg. The middle piece, by Moses Pendleton, the modern, not ballet, choreographer who founded theatrical dance companies, Pilobolus and MOMIX, is the one that most celebrates Vishneva, because it allows her to have the stage entirely to herself. I don’t think she works tremendously well with others (which I’ve noted before), and I have yet to see what all the critics are so orgasmic about with her, but Pendleton gave her some brilliant props to work with — particularly a large mirror upon which she lay in various positions, she and her reflection together evoking a series of imaginative shapes, and a beaded headdress which she wore and spun around repeatedly in, making interesting forms with the material — and the result seemed to be the crowd-pleaser of the night (other than Richardson).
At the end of the last piece, the curtain went down, then rose again. All dancers besides Vishneva were onstage. The dancers linked hands and came forward for a group bow. Then, each came forward one at a time — five in all — then another group bow. The dancers began looking at each other, a bit concerned. The conductor — shaggy-haired and good-looking I might add! — came onstage and took a bow. The dancers took another group bow. The singer came onstage and took a bow. The audience applauded on and on, for a good ten minutes. The dancers looked at each other, more worried. Audience members began to shrug their shoulders. “Is she coming out?” someone whispered. A few began to leave. One dancer, I think it was innocent-faced Sergeev, gave a nod and the dancers walked forward, arms linked, for yet another bow. Vishneva has refused to take bows before: at ABT’s opening night Met gala last year, she wouldn’t come out for her Sleeping Beauty curtain call. Ballet Talk talkers surmised she was upset about her performance. I didn’t see anything lacking in her performance and wondered whether it was just that she had to share the stage with two other dancers who played Sleeping Beauty (at the gala, they had three women dance the part for variety). I turned around to peek at Kevin McKenzie (ABT’s artistic director, who happened to be sitting behind me); he didn’t seem to have a clue as to what might be up either. I turned around and put on my coat. Some other orchestra members came out for some bows. Then another dancer group bow. The lady beside me excused herself and walked past me. I was just about to grab my bag and go when, finally, in what must have been a good fifteen minutes after the end of the last ballet, she emerged from the wings, bedecked in a velvety black, floor length gown with a several-foot-long train. But she didn’t just walk out onstage to the middle of the lined-up dancers; she walked around clear to the back of the stage, proceeded all the way around the row of dancers, went nearly into the opposite wings, and came around in front, prancing to the front of the stage and taking several very long, drawn-out bows. I think by that time all of our standing ovations and applause had long been spent on Richardson, and I heard several harrumphs of annoyance. I know it may be a Russian thing for the prima ballerinas to act like drama queens in taking their bows, and some may see it as a point of amusement for American audiences, but I think people were more confused and annoyed than entertained.
Anyway, the show’s worth seeing for the interesting choreography, the excellent guest dancers from the Kirov, and for Richardson. Go here for tix. Here are a couple of other write-ups from my fellow bloggers, Jolene and Art in California, who have different points of view regarding Vishneva, from me.
Tonight (or, seeing as how it’s 2:00 a.m., last night rather) was the world premiere of a new ballet by Italian choreographer Mauro Bigonzetti at New York City Ballet. The dancers did a spectacular job with some very difficult-looking choreography. Anyway, first things first: my evening got off to a very excited start, as I sat next to Judith Jamison, legendary Alvin Ailey dancer and now artistic director of that company, my favorite (if it wasn’t clear from all of my December posts.) I know I may sound like a goof sometimes, but sitting beside a giant like her was just such a thrill. Of course I was too shy to say anything to her 🙂
So, Oltremare. The program notes state that the name of the ballet translates to “beyond the sea” and is intended to explore the feelings people have upon leaving their homeland for a new country: sadness, excitement, fear of the unknown. The ballet, very modern and without pointe shoes, began with several dancers, all dressed in early 20th Century clothing reminiscent of “Little House on the Prairie,” and all bearing large, burdensome suitcases. They entered the stage in a line, as if they’d just disembarked a boat. The music at this point was minimal and consisted only of a beating sound. They suddenly dropped the suitcases, collapsed on top of them, exhausted, and made kicking and pushing motions in each direction as if fighting the urge to return to the boat. But they picked themselves up and forged ahead.
After their initial trek across stage, the dancers returned, without suitcases, and began performing a series of very dramatic duets full of mixed emotions. Georgina Pazcoguin completely blew me away. She danced with such passion and the intensity of her internal conflict was made clear with every facial expression and every detailed movement she made. She struggled savagely against her first partner, Jason Fowler, he scooping her up as she lashed out, fighting him, punching out at the air around her, then hurling herself at him in anger, forcing him to catch her in mid-air.
Another pas de deux between Tiler Peck and Amar Ramasar ensued, this one slightly more mild, conveying less anger but more sorrow, although many of the lifts and movements were very similar to those in the first duet.
Some ensemble dancing and a series of solos followed. And it was here where Andrew Veyette, a new favorite of mine, completely blew me away. He had a crazy hard solo replete with insane leg-switching barrel turns, corkscrew jumps, and multiple fouette turns and pirouettes, and he pulled if off like it was absolutely nothing! So excellent for him! The movement was all very modern, very grounded with a lot of steps emphasizing heel over toe, and flexed hands and feet. He seemed a natural for this kind of vocabulary. (I also saw him dance parts of Jerome Robbins’s Opus Jazz at the Guggenheim on Sunday — which I’ll blog about soon — and thought the same thing; he is a modern mover). Amar Ramasar impressed me in this respect as well.
A few more pas de deux followed, including one between the amazing Georgina and Andrew. I don’t know if it was intentional, but this one looked more fraught with sexual tension. It actually reminded me of the novel “Middlesex,” where characters Lefty and Desdemona have just escaped the burning of Smyrna, their homeland, and caught the boat to New York. They are siblings but they are also in love and, horrified and upset as they are about having to flee their country, they use the anonymity of ship and then the New World to re-define themselves as husband and wife, to Desdemona’s never-ending shame.
In another duet, danced by Tyler Angle and Maria Kowroski, the man seemed grieved at the woman’s despondency. They had some very difficult lifts, where he, lying on the ground, had to hold her up, then roll over her and whip her up and over himself repeatedly. I wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be suicidal and he was trying to shake her out of it or what.
But regardless, my main problem was the choreography. The mood of all the pas de deux seemed too one-note, and, since the story begins and ends with the same duet — that between Georgina and Jason — the narrative as a whole didn’t really seem to progress. Each duet was either full of anger or sorrow or both; and the movement in all of them, except for the Angle / Kowroski, seemed very similar. The mood and choreography of the ensemble parts was varied, but didn’t always make sense to me. At one point, it appears that the dancers are having some kind of happy square-dance-like hoe-down. If this is meant to convey that they are coming to peace with their new home, then fine, but the movement at times was so overly fast and choppy it looked almost cartoonish. So, it seemed like a grotesque, distorted version of a western folk dance. At other points I saw echoes of West Side Story, with the male bravado and the female swooning. American but a bit anachronistic. The music was varied as well, with some parts more fluid, others more intentionally discordant, as if symbolizing difficulty, unrest perhaps, basically that something was just “off” in this new home.
These are my first impressions; I definitely want to see it again. The dancing was simply superb. As is usual for openings, the choreographer was there as was music composer Bruno Moretti, and they took bows with the dancers and signed autographs out on the (freezing) Plaza afterward. Premieres always make for a fun night! This program will repeat several times throughout the winter season; go here for the schedule.
I was only recently introduced to Parsons Dance a few months ago, through the Maria de Buenos Aires tango operita that Philip had invited me to. So, their Joyce season, currently underway, gave me the perfect opportunity really to see what choreographer David Parsons is all about, since, in celebration of his company’s 20-year anniversary, it presented basically a compilation of his greatest hits.
Overall, I liked them well enough to want to see them again, but not enough to fall head over heels in love the way I did with, say, Alvin Ailey. There are two programs, consisting of six dances apiece, with only “Caught,” which seems to be Mr. Parsons’s masterpiece, repeating in both. So, I’ll start with that one. This is a short piece which I described in my earlier post. On first viewing, as I said, I could understand why the audience went completely beserk with mad applause over it, but I found it a bit gimmicky. On second viewing, those feelings solidified. On my second night, I also realized that, when the sole dancer, again the wonderful Miguel Quinones, began doing the grand jetes around the stage’s perimeter and the strobe lights started flickering, it was only at the beginning of the leaps that he was actual jumping; soon he was pulled up by a cord emanating from the ceiling and merely carried around stage like a masculine Tinkerbell while the lights flashed. So, it’s not that he appears to be flying because he’s such a great jumper and perfectly coordinates his leaps with the lighting engineer; rather, he appears to be flying because the whole set-up is a trick. I guess I can still see why people think it’s cool, but I think it’s kind of cheating. Also, I’d originally thought, wow, Quinones (or whoever dances the role) must really have focus in order to be able to do those huge leaps with those insanely distracting lights. But now that I know he’s not really doing the work I thought he was, it’s less amazing.
Anyway, moving on. I liked Program A much better than Program B. Going in order, my first favorite was “Sleep Study.” This is a cutely humorous piece in which the dancers, dressed in pajamas, feign being on the verge of falling asleep, but tired as they are, only one man can actually do so. The others roll over each other and sit atop each other in playfully amusing ways. At one point a woman sits on top of a lying man, her back and his head to the audience, and as he bops up and down to the music, they create a funny, shape-shifting Pilobolus-like sleepless creature. It was highly relatable — who hasn’t had a night where they just couldn’t get to sleep no matter how tired they were? — and many of the moves and shapes created by the dancers were simultaneously simple and original.
I also liked “Nascimento,” which is not so shocking for me since it’s choreographed to music by Brazilian composer Milton Nascimento. Actually, Parsons used this composer in two works, this one and “Nascimento Novo,” a later-choreographed piece on Program B, and the first, “Nascimento,” — a sunny, happy celebration of Samba and other Brazilian rhythms that was nevertheless rooted in balletic partnering and movement — was my favorite. For one thing, the costumes in the first (by Santo Loquasto, who is fast becoming my favorite costume designer) composed of cheery reds and oranges and yellows well complemented the lighthearted theme, and the flowing sundresses for the women accentuated the quick, lively turns and lifts. In the second, “Nascimento Novo,” whose music I found to be lovely but choreography less original and more bland, the costumes (whose designer isn’t named in the program) were boring white tops and gray bottoms that didn’t move well (pictured below).
I also liked “Kind of Blue,” a bluesy ensemble piece set to Miles Davis’s “So What,” and “In the End,” a carefree ensemble work set to music from the Dave Matthews Band, whose choreography was a combination of jazz and contemporary ballet. Finally, I liked “Bachiana” from Program B, a sprightly, energetic, baroque dance set to Bach’s “Orchestral Suites” that reminded me of Mark Morris or Paul Taylor. The choreography was fast and creative, and the dancers really shined performing the intricate-patterned, fast-paced footwork. “Union,” pictured up top, was the antithesis, a long, balletic, adagio dance for the whole group consisting of some beautiful lifts, but I felt this one lacked structure and didn’t seem to go anywhere special. “Brothers,” pictured in the middle, was, as the name implies, a short dance for two men, examining the nature — at times competitive and argumentative, at times loving — of brotherhood. It had its moments and some of the choreography was original, but it just didn’t really blow me away. “Shining Star,” an upbeat disco-y piece set to Earth, Wind & Fire closed Program B. I think my problem with this dance, perhaps unfairly, stemmed from the fact that in recent seasons I’ve seen something very similar from Alvin Ailey that I felt was far more sophisticated. It’s obviously unfair to compare a production by a monied, behemoth company with resources galore to something by a much smaller one, but it wasn’t really the sets and costumes and greater number of dancers that set things so apart; it was more, I felt, that Ailey’s choreography was more varied. By the end of my second night at Parsons, I felt that if I saw the lift where a woman stands on a man’s bent leg and reaches out away from him, I was really going to lose it.
Dancers who stood out to me were the aforementioned Miguel Quinones (whom Parsons, rightly, used a lot), Patty Foster (who, with her endless energy, lovely lines, commitment to doing everything full-out, and charisma – and oh yeah, her small size 🙂 reminded me of Lauren Grant from Mark Morris); Malvina Sardou; and Kevin Ferguson (the latter two of whom just stood out to me for some reason I can’t entirely put my finger on).
Despite my rather lukewarm review, this is a company worth seeing once or twice and Mr. Parsons has a very loyal following. And, from that following, here’s another perspective.
Okay, off to see David at the Guggenheim!!!
Update: After having an email exchange with a friend over “Caught” I am now not completely sure whether the dancer was suspended by a wire. The reason I thought he was was that I was sitting close to the stage and, as Quinones ran off into the wings following the end of the piece, I thought I saw a large black pocket on the back of his pants, right below his waist, perfect for housing a wire, which I figured he must have somehow dismembered before exiting. Also, sitting so close to the stage, I thought I could see, albeit at whip-lightening speed, the spaces between the flashing lights when he never came down to the floor. It could have been an optical illusion though. But why then the black thing smack on his butt? My friend swears he’s seen the piece numerous times in ceiling-less settings where there would be no way to connect a wire. Funny, because after seeing it the second time I thought it was common knowledge that he was suspended and I was a dork for not getting it the first time, but now I’m confused. Has anyone else seen this dance???
Fun fun night! Big understatement! I didn’t even need to get drunk 🙂
Please excuse the Gawkerish, 15-year-old voice of this post. I waited until this morning to blog in hopes that the euphoria would dissipate and Kristin Sloan might post the group photo her boyfriend, Doug Jaeger, took, but as of yet neither has happened.
I must begin by calling myself a big fat hypocrit. I’ve laughed and rolled my eyes at Philip whenever he’s nearly fainted in front of the New York City Ballet stage door upon receiving a smile and hello from Jock Soto or Albert Evans or Wendy Whelan. Last night Danny Tidwell smiled and said hi to me and I promptly choked on my wine. Of course he doesn’t know me; I was just standing there staring gape-mouthed at him when he walked by with … oh crap I’m so bad, I think it was Jamie??… He was there with a girl from SYTYCD, but I’m not exactly sure who. Since the pre-show party was for bloggers, I was half-expecting his boyfriend to come (whom I was very much hoping to meet!) but Benaym was a no-show. I didn’t expect Danny though!!! Oh he’s so cute, and his smile is so warm and charming and sweet, it really just melted me. I can easily see why he is such a star. I got there earlier than everyone else and was nearly alone inside when the earth-shattering hello happened; each time one of my friends walked in, they greeted me only to get in return, “Omigod, omigod, Danny Tidwell said hi to me, Danny Tidwell said hi to me!!!” He’s so much smaller than he looks on TV or onstage. I couldn’t believe it. He’s always appeared to me the size of Carlos Acosta, but he’s well under six feet. It’s just the proverbial larger than life stage and screen presence I guess… And I’m very very very sorry for any SYTYCD fan who’s reading, but I just couldn’t bring myself to snap pics of him. In New York there’s an ironclad rule against “starf***ing.” Everyone does it, but everyone pretends they don’t and to break the pretense is practically illegal, a violation of the NYC social contract. Taylor and Evan and Ariel all agreed with me that I would definitely be immediately kicked out and may even be executed if I so much as tried surreptitiously to get a cell phone pic. So sorry!!! But Mr. Jaeger had a humongoid camera and was shooting up the place, so I’ll keep checking his site and see if he got any.
When Caleb Custer from Cedar Lake sent out the email announcing the blogger party, I had no idea who all was going to show. I was still swooning over Danny when who should breeze up his hair billowing in the wind but the beautiful one himself! When I spotted him pass by the large garage window (Cedar Lake’s studio is actually housed in a big garage, according to Philip, once used by photographer Annie Liebowitz), I couldn’t help myself. I screamed uncontrollably, “Look, there’s David Hallberg!” Doug (Fox), Philip, Ariel and probably about 75 other people in the lobby followed my point. David looked in at us, horrified. He promptly pretended to get a call on his cell phone and spent the next 20 minutes outside pacing up and down the street affecting a phone conversation, every so often peeking in the window to see if all the commotion at his arrival had died down. Meanwhile Danny remained huddled in a back corner with Jamie. Dancers are weird the way they sometimes crave and are other times embarrassed by attention.
Finally David braved the storm and ventured in. He is soft-friggin-spoken to make a massive understatement! He extended his hand to me and said something I couldn’t hear, I said simply, “hi, I’m Tonya,” feeling like a total ass, and he again said something I couldn’t make out. Soft-spoken or not, he clearly either had no idea who I was or was terrified of me. Ariel thinks it’s the latter, because of things like this and this. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the former though; he and Marcelo have got to be two of the only dancers on the face of the earth who never Google themselves. Anyway, the awkwardness was soon quelled by his sighting of Philip, who is apparently a friend of his through Craig Salstein. Philip was standing beside me. David doesn’t need to act at all; his natural reactions to things are so sweetly touching. You could see his recognition of Philip visibly register as his face brightened and he went bouncing toward Philip like a dog when it sees a regular playmate, practically rubbing his pelvis up against him when embracing. He then saw Ariel, standing beside Philip, whom he met when he was guesting once in Mobile, Alabama, and hugged her as well. I was feeling like the consummate dog crap, being the only one who didn’t receive a hug. But I guess that’s what I get for posting naked pictures and yelling at him for not blogging often enough on the Winger 🙂
Another highlight for me was meeting CounterCritic, whose original blog (critiquing the critics) I love. He’s such a fantastic writer whether he’s wickedly taunting critics or writing performance reviews himself, which are always spot-on (almost always anyway!) And he’s the only dance blogger who’s on Alex Ross’s blogroll. Oh jealously uncontained… Anyway, he’s so nice in person; all that blog pissiness is a total cover! I can’t really rib David for his puppyish behavior toward Philip because I followed CC around all night like a little dog, sitting next to him even during the show.
Speaking of which, could I talk a bit about the actual performance? Artistic director Benoit-Swan Pouffer, who by the way is really good-looking and personable and used to dance with my beloved Alvin Ailey, held a little Q&A with the bloggers afterward. He said he loves blogs: existing in a sphere so apart from traditional media, they bring something fresh and original to the dance world; they bring balance and new voices, and, though you never know what take you’re going to get from each one, it’s always interesting to see… I’m sure he never thought he’d be getting a blog post all about the pre-show hysteria of meeting Danny Tidwell and David Hallberg.
I want to look more at the (extensive!) press materials and the DVD they included (always an immense plus from dance companies), but for now I want to say how much I love dancer Jon Bond. Everything he does is so full-out, his lines are so sharp and even intense if that makes sense. Just little things like flexing a hand or foot, when he does it, it’s so pronounced that it looks all the more edgy in its awkwardness.
We saw three ballets: “Symptoms of Development,” by choreographer Jacopo Godani, a harsh, unsettling piece which dealt with technology and how it works against human interaction (Evan remarked to me afterward that it was an interesting inclusion in the rep they showed us, since we’re bloggers); “Ten Duets on a Theme of Rescue,” by Crystal Pite, my favorite duet being one in which Bond struggled to reach the female dancer in front of him, palm open and fingers extended to the max, running in place to catch up with her, but in vain, as she, running in place as well, was always too far ahead; and “Rite” by Stijn Celis, another take on a dance to Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring,” nearly all of which — of the ones I’ve seen anyway — evoke in different ways the chaos bordering on horror of the rite of passage of boys and girls into men and women. If you’re interested, here’s a YouTube clip of Pina Bausch’s take on the theme, and here’s Maurice Bejart’s, which I’m partial to. Celis’s “Rite” was different in that all characters were androgynous, so there was no real distinction between male and female. All dancers — about four men and four women — were dressed in Asian-looking strapless mini-dresses and wore heavy, almost operatic facial makeup. It actually reminded me of Nacho Duato’s Castrati, which I wrote about here, except both sexes were included, though not both genders (that I saw anyway; others may have different interpretations). The dancers darted, leaped over, and ran atop these three long log-looking sets, covered with green material and meant, I think, to evoke a primitive landscape. The dancers almost looked like nymphs as they interacted: regarding each other quizzically, examining the powder and sweat left on the ‘log landscape’ by each other in a somewhat grotesquely sexual way; performing dangerous run-and-jump catches with each other; it was kind of “Afternoon of a Faun“ish (original Nijinsky version) as well. All pieces were abstract, and all unsettling, but I think this was my favorite because it seemed to have the most going on that I could latch onto and make something of, and, because of the other “Rite’s” I’d seen, I had something to compare it to.
This is a new company, only four years old, and this is the third time I’ve seen them. They tend to take on edgy, visually striking and thought-provoking work and their dancers are very unafraid and do everything full force. For more info on their season, go here. Thank you so much to Cedar Lake for organizing this most fun, and thus far original, event. I’ll post pictures taken by the pro photographers if Caleb sends any my way…
For now, here’s a picture of Ariel taken in The Half King around the corner, where we afterward went to discuss the performance. Okay, where we went to discuss David and Danny 🙂
