Tag: Nacho Duato

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KINGS OF THE DANCE SHOWS HOW DANCER-RICH BUT CHOREOGRAPHY-IMPOVERISHED BALLET IS IN THE BALANCHINE-INUNDATED U.S.

 

Photo of Desmond Richardson by Andrea Mohin, taken from NYTimes.

So, “Kings of the Dance” made the New York stop of its international tour this weekend at City Center. I was there Friday night. The last time this show toured here several years ago (it is produced by Russian dance promoter Sergei Danilian) there were only four male dancers — Angel Corella, Ethan Stiefel (both of American Ballet Theater), Johan Kobborg of the Royal Ballet in England, and Nikolay Tsiskaridze of the Bolshoi. This year, there were many more dancers and Tsiskaridze was the only one who returned (and, funny, but I totally didn’t recognize him). The others were: David Hallberg, Marcelo Gomes and Jose Manuel Carreno from ABT, Joaquin De Luz from NYCB, Guillaume Cote from Canada, Denis Matvienko from Ukraine, and Desmond Richardson from NY-based Complexions Contemporary Ballet (So You Think You Can Dance fans may recognize his photo above, since he has guest performed on the show a couple times).

What I liked about this program the last time it toured here was that there were fewer dancers, and that way you kind of “got to know” them better, by seeing them each perform several different pieces. Here, you basically only saw many dancers once, and a few twice. If you weren’t familiar with them (as my two friends who came with me weren’t), you could easily get them confused. They played a short movie at the beginning where each dancer (besides Desmond Richardson; I think he may have been a late addition to the American tour) talked a bit and you saw them dance. Jose’s cute Cuban accent seems to have gotten more pronounced 🙂 — I think he did it on purpose, knowing how many female fans would be in the audience! David’s voice somehow sounded a bit deeper than it does in person. Matvienko (who, for ballroom dancers, looks A LOT like former US champ Andrei Gavriline) and Tsiskaridze spoke in Russian and their words were translated.

What I loved about this program though was that there were so many solos that exposed us to so many different choreographers whose work I’d never seen (and some of whom I’d never even heard of) before. Every company in this country is obsessed with Balanchine, so it’s a wonderful wonderful change when we actually get a taste of something else. But more on that in a moment.

As with every Danilian production, there were lots and lots of Russians in the audience, and I think Desmond Richardson and Joaquin De Luz in particular grew a new fan base. Poor Joaquin — well, maybe: after the performance and during intermission I kept hearing, “That little guy was great!”, “That little guy was just incredible,” “Where can I see that little guy dance?” So, Joaquin is the great “little guy” whom everyone is seeking out now. And everyone went wild after Richardson’s solo, Lament, choreographed of course by Dwight Rhoden, an absolute master at presenting his friend’s spellbinding combination of gracefulness and masculinity. My friends were floored, along with the rest of the audience judging by the exclamations.

After the movie, they opened with Christopher Wheeldon’s For 4, for four dancers, which is a carry-over from the last performance. On the night I went it was performed by Matvienko, Carreno, De Luz, and Cote (but the cast varied each night). It’s an adagio lyrical piece, as with the vast majority of Wheeldon’s work, and I wished there would have been some more allegro parts with bravura solos. But that’s just not Wheeldon’s thing.

Then, after intermission, we saw a solo performed by each man, ending with a drop dead gorgeous duet danced by Cote and Gomes choreographed by French choreographer Roland Petit, from his Proust ou les Intermittances du Coeur. The men were dressed in skin-toned unitards, which almost made them look naked, and the duet to me seemed to be about a man obsessed with his reflection, or another side of himself, as each’s movement was mainly a reaction to the other’s. But at some points there was some really beautiful partnering, some really beautiful lifts and it seemed like a man dancing with his soul. Breathtaking!

Anyway, other highlights of the solo section were: a really beautiful solo for Marcelo choreographed by Adam Hougland, called Small Steps, which was like lyrical iron-pumping — a series of beautiful poses showing off his musculature interspersed with flowing lyrical movement; a beautiful, lyrical piece danced by David Hallberg from Frederick Ashton’s Dance of the Blessed Spirits; a fast, fun, more virtuosity-heavy solo by David Fernandez for Joaquin De Luz called Five Variations on a Theme; Jose Carreno dancing a gorgeous adagio to Ave Maria — a modern version — by Igal Perry (which I’d seen before and fell in love with it all over again); and Rhoden’s Lament for Richardson, which, like Marcelo’s solo, reminded me of lyrical iron-pumping (which I mean in a good way of course) highlighting as it did that seemingly incongruous combination of male elegance and virility.

The only ones that didn’t really work for me well were Boris Eifman’s Fallen Angel danced by Tsiskaridze, which I think just didn’t have enough context, and Vestris by Leonid Jakobson danced by Matvienko, which was by turns a comical and bravura piece first danced by Baryshnikov in 1969. I thought Matvienko was a lovely dancer with really beautiful lines who could really deliver on the jumps and especially turns, but I just think it needed to be better acted because there were some places where it almost seemed like he made a mistake, and then you realized it wasn’t a mistake by the dancer; it was supposed to be the character who humorously screwed up. I heard Baryshnikov was excellent and I wish I could see a video of that.

Then, we saw Spanish choreographer Nacho Duato’s Remanso, which I’d never seen live before, but saw in a video performed by ABT. It involves a wall with three dancers interacting with each other around it, climbing over it, looking around it. It’s sweet, flirtatious in places, and loving and romantic. The night I saw it it was danced by Gomes, Cote, and Hallberg, though this cast alternated each night as well.

The program ended with a bravura “Grand Finale” with each dancer coming out and doing jumps and turns, and all the big fancy “male things” of classical ballet.

But the thing I kept thinking throughout was, wow, that’s really cool choreography, who’s that choreographer? Oh,  I’ve never heard of him, or, oh I’ve heard of him, how cool that I finally got to see something by him! I mean: Roland Petit, Igal Perry, David Fernandez, Adam Hougland, Nacho Duato, Leonid Jakobson. We NEVER get to see choreography by these people here. Petit is a major choreographer. As is Duato (we really see his choreography only when his own company tours here, infrequently), ditto for Eifman, and the others I’ve never even heard of. Why don’t we see more variety here? Why don’t we see more Mats Ek and Pina Bausch and John Cranko? Why do we have to drown in Balanchine over and over and over again? Why do dance companies think that we want to see Balanchine? Why do they think Americans are into this man? As far as I’m concerned, his only truly great work is Jewels. The rest, okay, his footwork is more intricate and there are certain subtle little embellishments in the variations, but really, what was so great about his ballets in their entirety? What was so great that we have to be so completely inundated with him here in the US? I mean, it makes sense that NYCB does his work because they were founded by him but every other major company in the US is likewise obsessed – San Francisco Ballet, Miami City, Boston, Pennsylvania, even the Kirov and POB when they tour here they think we want more of this crap. And whenever ABT doesn’t do classical, there seems to be an overload of Balanchine. Does anyone consider that maybe, just maybe, we might get bored? That he doesn’t speak to younger generations of Americans AT ALL? Did someone tell POB and Kirov that Americans only understand Balanchine so you have to do Balanchine when you come here? I think ballet is dying in this country because of every artistic director’s completely inscrutable obsession with this boring boring man.

Anyway, I greatly thank Mr. Danilian for allowing Americans to see something else for a change.

For a completely different perspective, see Macaulay’s review.

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A SHORT NOTE ON ARTISTIC DIRECTORS AND PROGRAM SELECTIONS

 

 

In light of the recent downpour of Tulsa Ballet reviews, many of which critized the selection of dances artistic director Marcello Angelini chose to bring to NY, my friend Christopher Atamian writes a note on programming selection. Chris also talks about Pilobolus, who were recently at the Joyce and big shame on me for missing them (I was recovering from an insanely exciting ballet season — the best EVER in my NY lifetime– and hystericizing over putting the finishing touches on my novel, so please forgive me for failing to cover this most exciting troupe).

I think Chris makes good points about not only the selection of programs but the placement of dances within the programs. I think this is one thing that Judith Jamison of Alvin Ailey is genius at: that company always performs their choreographically richest, most upbeat piece at the end: either Ailey masterpiece Revelations, the versatile hip hop / modern / African combo Love Stories, or Tharp’s wild-ride, The Golden Section. And interestingly, now that I think about it, New York City Ballet usually puts their premieres in the middle of the program, ending with a Balanchine. I definitely think you’d want to put the less established pieces in the middle, and bookend them with the tried and true. I do wonder if we “cranky New Yorkers” in Apollinaire Scherr’s words would have received Tulsa’s program better had Hue’s piece been in the middle or the beginning and the Duato at the end.

Anyway, here is Chris Atamian:

It is presumably the role of the artistic director to choose the particular program or set of dances that a company will perform on any given night.  I don’t know if anyone else has noticed a rather curious phenomenon, but I have attended a few performances of late by some truly fine companies that would have benefited enormously from a more judicious dance selection.  There was of course the Tulsa Ballet’s amazing 1-2 MacMillan-Duato punch at the Joyce which was unfortunately followed by a much weaker This Is Your Life by Young Soon Hue.  Why not start with the Hue piece-if one must include it-and then work up to the Macmillan and Duato? The audience would then walk away with an even stronger impression of this wonderful company.

The week before, I attended all three Pilobolus programs, also at the Joyce.  Program One began with a fine martial arts/capoeira-inspired piece Redline choreographed by Jonathan Wolken.  This was followed by a stunning piece Darkness and Light developed in collaboration with the truly astounding puppeteer Basil Twist involving shadow play and a presentation of nothing less than the cosmos itself, whirring by at breakneck speed in front of a mesmerized audience.  Then after a short break, the company came back with the 1971 work Walklyndon, a cute, short piece which involves the company dancers walking back and forth across the stage and engaging in some wonderfully humorous gags and movement with elements of clowning, physical humor and even a touch of vaudeville perhaps. The members wear hilarious, lively costumes.

I compared the piece elsewhere to a jived up version of Romper Room and I meant that in the best way: it’s humorous and soulful and it gives the audience a good idea of the company’s history and evolution-how else will younger people ever see the early pieces of a company which has now thrived for close to forty years?  My beef is that it came as a complete anticlimax after the Basil Twist piece-you could literally feel the audience deflate: they were waiting for something stellar, fast-paced and acrobatic and instead were presented with a funny and somewhat tame amuse-gueule. (Of course a company that specializes in say baroque dance or a classical ballet company may have an easier time of things programming an evening of performances simply because they have a theoretically more restrained group of works to choose from than a contemporary company…) There are of course many ways to curate a night of performances: by similarity or contrast; by choreographer; by time or setting; by pace or style; etc) No one way is correct per se, one just wishes that the choices were sometimes more judicious or logical.  As with everything in a very difficult field, that is easier said than done and there is always something to be said for experimentation.  And of course this is just one critic’s opinion….others are free to disagree with me!

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THE TULSA BALLET AT THE JOYCE: DANCES FROM THE (HEART)LAND

 

Here is another take on Tulsa, written by my friend, the writer and critic, Christopher Atamian:

The Tulsa Ballet is a wonderful revelation, a group of exquisitely trained dancers with the ability to perform a wide variety of dances from different lexicons.  Indeed, it would be hard to pick two pieces more dissimilar than Kenneth MacMillan’s 1974 Elite Syncopations and Nacho Duato’s 1996 Por Vos Muero.

Macmillan’s fun and lively ballet was performed with evident brio by the Tulsa dancers. If you could survive going blind from Ian’s Spurling’s remarkably bright costumes (think Pucci meets the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test) and overlook the fact that the stage sometimes looked too busy with too many dancers, then you were in for a real treat. The dancers performed the often eccentric arm movements and angled lifts, as well as the elements of mimicry and farce to perfection: the final group ensemble piece was bold and fast-paced. The “Bethena Waltz” pas-de-deux between Alfonso Martín and Karina Gonzalez  was particularly enjoyable as were sections with the lithe and elegant Kate Oderkirk. I don’t particularly like Joplin’s Ragtime, to which a large part of the ballet is set, so the fact that I enjoyed this piece was all the more to the Tulsa Ballet’s credit-there was something truly odd and exhilarating about the entire presentation.

Duato’s Por Vos Muero is sensuous and romantic whereas Elite Syncopations is more syncopated and humorous; the former is European in tone and musical selection while the latter is set to just about the most American music there is; MacMillan’s ballet is modern in atmosphere while Muero is medieval with elements of postmodern poetic recitation.  Again, the Tulsa dancers could have benefited from some more inspired costuming.  The women’s blue and brown dresses and bustles may have reflected historical Spanish fashion, but at times they also hindered our appreciation of the performers’ movement; the other contrasting semi-naked flesh-colored costumes seemed flimsy.  Por Vos Muero is set to exquisite 15th and 16th century Spanish music and illustrates a 16th century poem by Garcilosa de Vega, an extended love ode to an unnamed woman read here by the Spanish actor and pop star Miguel Bosé. The movement in Por Vos Muero mixes elements of Spanish court dance with a contemporary idiom developed by Duato which includes two-footed jumps, circular gestures of arms and legs, and the use of masks in one scene. When the male dancers come out in capes swinging incense censers, the entire theater becomes a dreamlike dominion, an oil painting come exquisitely to life. The dancers all acquitted themselves beautifully. Alfonso Martín, Karina Gonzalez and Ricardo Graziano were particularly stunning. The former two are powerful dancers that ally strength, grace and speed.

The last verses of Por Vos Muero are a stirring avowal of the heart:

 

I confess to owing all that I have to you

For you I was born, for you I am alive

For you I have to die, and for you I die.

By the time the two Tulsa dancers rush to the back of the stage and pose against a black background some of the audience members are also ready to symbolically die from pleasure, if not love.

As an endnote, along with a few other critics I was also disappointed by the final work, Korean choreographer Young Soon Hue’s This Is Your Life.  The piece begins with a staging of the 50’s TV show of the same name. After briefly being introduced to the show’s characters, the audience is treated to small vignettes illustrating their lives-the yearnings of their hearts and minds.  The actual dancing is quite good and some of the choreography engaging, but the piece feels disjointed and bland; at other times it looks like a strange mixture of Hairspray, Grease and West Side Story, without the excitement of any of the three. And yes, the orange-haired ridiculously effeminate hairdresser does border on the offensive. In fact many of the characters come off as stereotypes-the Chinese boy who wanted to be an actor but whose parents forced him to go into business; the girl with the Casanova boyfriend who must also be a bit short on self-respect, etc… More puzzling though, why the artistic director chose this particular piece to follow on the (literal!) heels of such fine works by MacMillan and Duato.  But no matter-the evening was fun, well-danced and enjoyable.  We hope to see the Tulsa Ballet again at the Joyce next summer.

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TULSA BALLET’S MOMENTOUS MANHATTAN DEBUT

 

 

Wow — exciting night Monday night when Tulsa Ballet, a small but well-regarded company founded by members of the legendary Ballet Russes and currently run by Naples-born Marcello Angelini, opened its Joyce season. The company, from Tulsa, Oklahoma, hasn’t performed in New York for 25 years and it was their first time in Manhattan. The governor and first lady of OK were there, along with the mayor of Tulsa, and other government officials. A Japanese TV station also covered the event (the troupe is very multi-national; many dancers are from Asian countries), and Oberon, our friend Susan, and I were interviewed by them outside during the first intermission. ABT dancer Arron Scott was interviewed outside as well, after the show. I desperately wanted to walk over there and listen in on what he was saying, but didn’t have the nerve…

Anyway, there were three dances on the program: Sir Kenneth MacMillan’s Elite Syncopations, Nacho Duato’s Por Vos Muero, and a newish dance from 2008 by Young Soon Hue called This is Your Life.

The dance that most captivated me was the first, MacMillan’s, which I guess isn’t surprising since he’s my favorite full-length story ballet choreographer. I hadn’t seen this shorter piece though. In terms of the movement, it’s typical MacMillan with the bravura leaps and turns and inventive partnering dominated by sweeping, crazy-hard-looking lifts. But I didn’t completely understand the character of the dance. It’s set to Scott Joplin and other American ragtime music but it’s performed by what appear to be commedia dell’arte characters, dressed in almost clownish costumes. See photo above.

See also this video, of an excerpt performed by the Royal Ballet, Darcey Bussell introducing it and then performing in one of the main duets. There wasn’t a band in the Tulsa version though — the music was recorded.

You get a sense from the video what the whole was like. The choreography is comical, complex and brilliant. And the Tulsa dancers did very well with it — particularly the acting. Definitely a very lively troupe. I got the sense that this would look very different performed by a company like ABT or the Royal on the large Met stage, but I thought the Tulsa dancers did a very good job with a very (despite the humor) difficult-looking ballet.

Next on was Duato’s Por Vos Muero 

 

 

I also really liked this piece. The movement was modern (no pointe shoes): grounded, sharp-lined and expansive. The music consisted of popular Catalonian tunes from the 15th and 16th centuries, with a poem read (in Spanish; Duato is Spanish and his company is based in Madrid) by Spanish music star Miguel Bose (at least he was a star,  in a heart-throbbish sort of way when I took Spanish in high school and college 🙂 )  The dance began on a contemporary note, with dancers dressed in simple nude leotards, then took on a historical flavor, the dancers now in dark costumes evocative of the era of the music. The themes (I think) were love and death; it was overall spiritual and mainly dark, with a few lighter moments interspersed throughout, like the one above, when two men playfully slide a woman between them, and she ends up near the edge of the stage and smiles out to the audience, resting her elbows casually on the floor, her chin in her hands. The two men lift their legs, bent at the knee, as if framing her like a picture.

The third piece, This is Your Life, is named after the American TV show (which I never saw). I have to agree generally with Gia Kourlas on this one. The characters first address the audience, telling you their stories of woe, but they’re mostly caricatures, like the flamboyant gay hairdresser dressed in a woman’s wig, and the businessman who wants to break free of his parents’ expectations and become an actor. The dancing parts are set mostly to Astor Piazzolla’s rich Tango music and much of them are Tango-based, portions of them on pointe. Normally I’d be into a ballroom / ballet mix, but the movement here, the combinations, were nothing I hadn’t seen before, and, honestly, I had a hard time getting over the stereotyped characters. This is a dance that may well get a different reception elsewhere though.

Tulsa Ballet performs at the Joyce through August 15th. Go here for more info. And go here and here for other, very different perspectives on the program.