Tag: Slice to Sharp

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New York City Ballet Season Finale and Wrap Up With Response to Sir A

 

 

So, Sunday marked the end of New York  City Ballet’s winter season. I was honestly in a blue funk all day yesterday, which shows, I guess, that I am really beginning to love this company since I’ve normally only gotten so sad over ABT and Alvin Ailey.

Sunday was a one-day only program, the All-American Season Finale, which included Robbins’s Glass Pieces, Martins’s Hallelujah Junction, and Balanchine’s Tarantella and Stars and Stripes. Tarantella (this is the only time it showed this season) is always fun, with its cute Neapolitan peasant boy-tries-to-get-girl caricatures, lightening-charged footwork, and series of bravura solos for both man and woman, all performed with a tambourine. I was completely out of breath after watching Joaquin de Luz fly across the stage and ultimately steal a kiss from Megan Fairchild. Joaquin is not just a dancing virtuoso but a dramatist as well and his characters are always these virile, sexed-up, but charming, innocuous men. I really love him.

Glass Pieces and Hallelujah Junction also really grew on me. I don’t know if it was Maria Kowroski or what, but the  slower, more adagio section of Glass Pieces was very compelling this time, and it really spiced up the last man-centric, drum-beating, section as well. At first I wasn’t a huge fan of Maria Kowroski, but either she has improved or she has really grown on me. I always thought she had an excellent dancer body, but now she is using it in a much more expressive way, really to say something. The only thing I’m not in love with choreography-wise in Glass Pieces is in the last section, how the men come jogging out, hands powerfully punching the air, doing their ‘man things’ to the booming drums, and then the women daintily slink in to the sound of the flutes. Corny.

I was able to watch more than just the mesmerizing lighting in Hallelujah Junction this time. I love the movement theme –toward the beginning — of the landing a jump or phrase on releve and then swiftly lowering the ankle to the floor. On Andrew Veyette it looked kind of teasing but in a sinister way, like the slicing of a knife. There is something very sinister in general about Andrew Veyette, very virile in a threatening way, which makes him perfect for the devious man dressed in black here.

And I love how Sebastien Marcovici, the man in white, kind of Janie Taylor’s saviour, would powerfully jete across stage after him, threatening him, banishing him. Sebastien and Janie are such the romantic couple, in part because they work so well together and in part because of their respective sizes. Someone very knowledgeable in the dance world told me they thought he’d been working out a lot, trying to build muscle. I do think he seems to have become more muscular lately, especially his legs. Building muscle often decreases the muscle’s flexibility and he doesn’t seem to make a perfect split on a jete like some of the others, but I still think it’s so romantic that he’s so much larger than little Janie; he can just sweep her off the floor and scoop her up into his arms — aw 🙂

The program notes state that Stars and Stripes, the somewhat cheesily patriotic but excellently danced Balanchine ballet, was shown at presidential tributes, like that of Kennedy and Johnson, and at Nelson Rockefeller’s NY gubernatorial inauguration. It’s so weird to me to think of that, though I could see it performed back then. But now? At President Obama’s inauguration? It just doesn’t seem like it would fit. It would seem kind of anachronistic, sadly…

Anyway, the talk of the ballet world lately has been Sir Alastair’s New York Times season wrap-up.

Taylor Gordon, my friend and fellow blogger / dance writer, says, “whether you agree with him or not, it boggles me that one person has the power to say these things in basically the one print medium dance criticism has left. Ouch.”

Macaulay basically takes the women of NYCB to task, saying none of them really command authority like true ballerinas,

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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!