Does a Ballerina’s Weight Affect the Quality of a Performance?

 

So, if you haven’t heard, the New York dance world is all up in arms over NY Times chief dance critic Alastair Macaulay’s review of New York City Ballet’s Nutcracker. The full review, which is here, I think is generally pretty good. But then he begins his concluding paragraph with this:

“This didn’t feel, however, like an opening night. Jenifer Ringer, as the Sugar Plum Fairy, looked as if she’d eaten one sugar plum too many; and Jared Angle, as the Cavalier, seems to have been sampling half the Sweet realm. They’re among the few City Ballet principals that dance like adults, but without adult depth or complexity.” (Ringer and Angle are pictured above, in that production. Photo by Paul Kolnik.)

Angry reactions have abounded: here are a couple on Huffington Post. In the second piece, Jennifer Edwards, quoting critic Eva Yaa Asantewaa (a friend of mine), notes that Ringer has had an eating disorder in the past and argues that this sentence was disrespectful, reckless, and irrelevant. Edwards also quotes an earlier reflection of Macaulay’s on his role as dance critic:

“My job is to be a professional aesthete with serious criteria; and I share my perceptions and my values with the reader as best I can.”

Edwards concludes by posing two questions:

“1. Do you read the Times dance reviews? Has this changed over time?

2. Do you feel reviews of this nature are of use to venues, arts organizations, audience members, aspiring young dancers, and artists?”

I wrote a little comment on HuffPo but thought I’d elaborate a bit here because I think it’s an interesting, and complicated, issue.

I definitely don’t think a dancer’s weight affects the quality of a performance unless the dancer really can’t dance. I’ve seen Ringer dance pretty recently and she is a tiny thing with no weight problem whatsoever. I didn’t see this performance but I’ve always thought she was technically a very good dancer with a lot of charisma, particularly in roles like the one Melissa Barak recently gave her where she can act as well as dance. And I think Jared Angle is one of the best male partners – if not THE best – City Ballet has.  I think Macaulay just wanted to be snarky – that’s part of his critic’s voice. I think he thinks he’s being funny. Maybe snark and sarcasm in critical reviews are partly a British thing? I see a lot of it though in reviews these days.

I think Macaulay knows a lot about dance history and I get the most out of his reviews when he focuses on that – on the history of a production, how this compares to others’ or past productions, the history of the performers, the artists, etc. I generally like his Nutcracker review, most of which focuses on Balanchine’s unique take on Tchaikovsky. The serious parts of it are very illuminating and show why this production is important and thus why a reader of his review might want to go see it. So the snarky part about Ringer’s weight seems really out of place. I actually re-read the sentence and that directly following it a few times, thinking maybe he meant that Ringer and Angle were dizzy, dancing with childish abandon when they usually dance like adults. But, no, I think he has to mean that they were both plumper than usual – the same as everyone else’s interpretation.

In response to Edwards’s question 1 above: I do remember former chief critic John Rockwell making references to dancers’ bodies, albeit not with the same snarky voice. In particular I remember him likening Marcelo Gomes’s legs to “tree trunks,” which offended some dance-goers. But it also seemed that he really loved Gomes and he’d lauded his dancing in the same review. So then it didn’t seem like he was making a value judgment, just a description.

It is tricky, because it’s hard not to talk about bodies since they’re kind of inherent in this art form. I offended readers (mainly on Facebook) once in my review of Burn the Floor on Broadway by saying that the tiny Broadway stage looked way too crowded during the ensemble numbers with all of those dancers and the band sharing it. I said it looked particularly crowded when Maks Chmerkovskiy and Karina Smirnoff were the leads, as opposed to Pasha Kovalev and Anya Garnis, since the former two – Maks in particular – were so large. I didn’t at all mean it as a criticism of him, but of the staging (and I suggested they take the band off of the stage, like in Tharp’s Movin’ Out). And, everyone who’s read my blog for any length of time knows that I often prefer larger dancers (Veronika Part, Marcelo, Roberto Bolle, Vaidotas Skimelis – come on!) But I was still attacked and even told if I didn’t remove it, those people would never read my blog again.

Also, sometimes a partnership just doesn’t work right when one dancer is too large for the other. Sometimes certain movement, certain styles look better on one dancer because of that dancer’s physique. I think those are valid criteria for judging the quality of a performance. But it can still get out of control – as in So You Think You Can Dance when the judges just start talking about the dancers’ bodies. How many times did they have to remark on Josh Allen’s butt? I always felt embarrassed for the whole show whenever that happened but everyone else seemed to think it was funny. But of course New York Times is not a corny TV show.

What is the purpose of a newspaper review anyway? To let your audience know from your educated perspective what is good and bad about a performance, and whether or not they should spend their money and go see it. I don’t really like Edwards’s second question because I don’t think the purpose of a review is to be of use to venues, artists, aspiring dancers, and arts organizations. The critic’s duty is to his readership – a general audience of potential dance-goers trying to decide whether to spend their money on a certain show. The critic has to be honest about what she thinks did and didn’t work in the show and why. And I also think for the presumably well-educated NY Times audience it’s nice when the critic goes into the history of a production, of a dance, the way Macaulay often does. But the critic can’t be protecting the artist from hurt and also serving his readership of potential dance-goers. Otherwise, he’s going to end up lying to someone.

Which gets back to the issue of whether a dancer’s weight gain or loss is a serious criterion in judging the quality of a performance. I think it’s ridiculous that someone would think it is, but what do you guys think? Why are we, as a culture, so hung up on weight anyway? People are always criticizing certain dancers for being too thin as well…

Paperback Dolls and Nutrackers

I have a guest post up today at the Paperback Dolls blog! They’re currently featuring New York authors and bloggers as part of their “Passport to New York” series. So, since I’m both, I talked about both my novel and the blog.

Regarding the blog, I gave their readers some recommendations on what to see in New York for the next couple of months dance-wise. I then realized I haven’t done that for my own readers yet, because I’ve been so blasted busy. But of course everyone who regularly reads my blog knows what I’ll recommend: Alvin Ailey, upcoming at City Center for the month of December (it’s Judith Jamison’s last season as artistic director so there will be lots of tributes to her); New York City Ballet’s Balanchinian Nutcracker which has already begun and continues on through the beginning of the year; and ABT’s new Nutcracker, which begins December 22nd and will be at Brooklyn Academy of Music.

I didn’t have a chance to write about it but I saw a small sneak preview of ABT’s new Nut at the Guggenheim’s Works & Process event a couple weeks ago, at which choreographer Alexei Ratmansky and conductor Ormsby Wilkins spoke. Several excerpts were performed including Veronika Part and Marcelo Gomes dancing part of the final Clara and the Prince pas de deux, the Russian dance, and some of the snow scenes. Ratmansky and ABT representatives had said earlier during a press conference that it would be pretty much traditional, but from what I saw it looks very modern. The costumes and sets – which are gorgeous and are made by Richard Hudson, the Tony award-winning set designer of the Lion King – are period, but the movement looked very modern to me, not at all classical. The pas de deux looked like lyrical and more romantic (without a capital “r”) and less fairy tale-like than I’ve normally seen, and the Russian dance looked folksy and even a bit slapsticky rather than the classical bravura dancing we’re used to with “Trepak.” Anyway, Ratmansky had noted that the original choreography for this ballet is no longer extant so that’s why there are so many different versions. The only two versions I’m really that familiar with, I guess, are Balanchine’s and the San Francisco Ballet’s two-year-old version, the DVD of which I reviewed a while back.

Anyway, I think the new Ratmansky Nutcracker is going to be a departure from the ordinary, and it will be interesting to see the whole and see how audiences react!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Emerging Pictures’ Ballet in Cinema Series

Here’s an addendum to my earlier post on Emerging Pictures’ exciting new Ballet in Cinema series.

All of the showings on the schedule I posted are at the BIG Manhattan Cinema except for the December 19th Nutcracker, performed by the Bolshoi. That one is at the Kew Gardens Cinema in Queens.

There is one additional performance:

The Nutcracker, performed by the Royal Ballet, December 26th, 3:00 p.m., at Symphony Space (this one is recorded).

For other performances in the series, and for people outside of New York, you can consult the Ballet in Cinema website for further showings. You can search for showings by typing in your zip code. I am told you should check the website frequently as it is updated often.

I’m very excited about this, as you can probably tell 🙂 The Metropolitan Opera has been very successful with their in-cinema showings, really brought opera to younger audiences by making it more affordable and engaging in this way, and has increased opera’s popularity. I hope this series will do the same for ballet.

NYCB’S FIRST NUT OF THE SEASON

 

Photo by Paul Kolnik, copied from NYCB website.

Okay, after blabbering on about the audience Friday night and new post-ballet restaurants, on to the actual performance.

It was magical, as always. Megan Fairchild and Joaquin De Luz were charming as the leads (the Sugarplum Fairy and her cavalier) — above headshots by Paul Kolnik, from NYCB website. I always love watching these two — Megan’s so sweet and she always seems to have this “cat who just swallowed the canary” smile on her face. She’s the ideal ballerina for this role. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t seen City Ballet in a while now, but Joaquin, who was injured at the end of last season, seems to be jumping higher and spinning far faster than ever before. As always, he was the perfect manly cavalier.

Beautiful Sara Mearns danced the other main role — Dewdrop. (Headshot by Paul Kolnik)

 

I wonder if something was done to the stage floor during renovations because Ashley Bouder had slipped on opening night in the new Martins ballet, and Mearns slipped twice on Friday night. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mearns fall and Bouder was just kind of standing when she fell, so it made me wonder if something’s slippery. Anyway, Sara seemed a bit shaken at first, but she soon recovered and danced with her typical beautiful fluidity and lush, expansive lines.

The little girls are so cute — you can hear all the ooohs and aaaahs when Dewdrop and her ladies in pink fill the stage. Below, Megan Fairchild in that role, photo by Paul Kolnik, taken from Explore Dance.

 

Other highlights were the magical-seeming Christmas tree that in little Marie’s dreams rises up from the floor and shoots straight through the ceiling, Sean Suozzi as Candy Cane — the incredible things he did with that hoop! — and, even though the Chinese stereotypes bother me in the Tea section, high jumper Daniel Ulbricht did expectedly well as the lead there, although I thought I remembered that dance being longer? And of course Justin Peck was a lot o fun as Mother Ginger, the role many of us most remember from seeing the ballet during childhood.

Balanchine’s version of the Christmas classic is a little shorter with a more children-heavy cast than most, making it the ideal holiday treat for families. It runs through January 3rd.

UN BAISER AND SWAN LAKE

 

Over the weekend I saw the French film, Un Baiser S’il Vous Plait, or Shall We Kiss (I don’t much like the English title translation, sounds too much like Shall We Dance and “A Kiss Please” is just cuter). I guess I’d call the movie a sweet romantic comedy albeit not without a bit of tragedy. Problem for me was, soundtrack is comprised mainly of Tchaikovsky ballet music — largely The Nutcracker and Swan Lake, and I learned something about myself: I can’t watch a movie with subtitles and focus on the subtitles when my favorite ballet music is playing in the background — I keep seeing the dancers instead of the little words at the bottom of the screen. I do wonder if I were fluent in French how the music would have affected me — whether I’d likewise have been unable to listen to the words over the notes– but I do know for sure I can’t concentrate simultaneously on three visuals (actors on screen, words on screen, and dancer-visions in my head).

It also made me think how enduring music is. There’s one little scene where a woman is cutely and “innocently” flirting with a man — although the whole film is about how destructive one supposedly simple little kiss can be, what it can lead to — and in the background is playing the Dance of the Four Cygnets from SL. And it’s actually very dulcet, although if you listen carefully, you can see how the music could be interpreted as somewhat threatening in its seductive charm. It ends up being perfect for this story where flirtatious behavior can destroy a relationship. And yet, that’s not what’s really going through your mind during that dance in the ballet. At least I don’t think it’s what’s supposed to be going through your mind? As I’m watching, anyway, I’m not thinking how dangerously seductive are those cute little swans; it’s just a difficult part for four dancers doing challenging steps perfectly in sync. But it made me think how Tchaikovsky’s ingenious music can be used to add insight and emotion to other stories besides that for which it was created. Maybe music has a longer-lasting life than dance, sadly… Although I love that filmmakers are using it — perhaps it will make watchers curious about the music’s origins…

 

Anyway, I never wrote about Balanchine’s Swan Lake, which I saw at NYCB last season, so now seems like as good a time as any… if I can remember it all.

Balanchine, I guess predictably, makes it all about the ballerinas — his “butterflies”. Prince Siegfried hardly figures – -there’s no ball at which he’s to pick a wife, no mental reflection in the forest, no “bird hunting,” no Odile, no Black Swan pas de deux where Odette’s human imposter seduces him leading to tragedy… Just Siegfried meeting Odette at the lake, falling for her, having her taken away from him by the evil von Rothbart and his flock of black swans.

I feel like the focus on the pretty ballerinas eviscerated the story. Prince Siegfried is the protagonist. It’s his story, his inner conflict, his unmet needs, his all too human weakness of character that you identify with, and that leads to tragedy. The story opens with Prince Siegfried at the first of a series of balls, at which he, having just turned 21, is to choose a wife. Beautiful princesses from all over Europe are being presented to him — what a choice! What more could a prince want! But he’s not at peace, for some reason. He’s just not into any of them. Why, he’s not sure, but something’s just not right. So, he decides to leave the first evening’s party early, go out into the woods, near the lake where he often reflects. His friends want to come with him, but no, he’d rather be alone. And then he’s lying by the lake, thinking, reflecting, perhaps having fallen asleep and dreaming, and he sees a beautiful swan. He takes aim with his bow and arrow when suddenly this magnificient creature turns into a woman before his very eyes. He of course becomes mesmerized with her. She — this fanstasy creature — he knows immediately, is his soul-mate.

She sees him, she’s afraid but he tosses the bow and arrow down, tells her not to worry, she tells him what happened to her — that von Rothbart cast a spell on her so that she’s a swan during the day, and can only be human — her true self — at night out by the lake. But the spell can be broken if someone — a sexual innocent, such as himself — pledges eternal love to her and then remains faithful. Of course Siegfried vows that he can do that, right before von Rothbart, who’s been listening in on their conversation, reclaims her for the evening, turning her back into a swan.

The next night at the ball, von Rothbart casts a spell on his daughter, Odile, so that she’ll look just like Odette. They show up at the ball and Sig is completely taken with Odile (in some versions he actually thinks she is Odette, the likeness is so close; in others he just falls for her, human frailty being what it is). A seduction ensues with all those ten thousand fouettes and gigantic, stage-traversing jetes as the climax, and then Odette appears, making it clear either Sig’s been deceived into cheating on her or making him remember his oath of faithfulness, which, either way, he’s now broken, therefore forcing her to live in eternity as a swan and making their love in this life impossible. They go back to the lake, do a tragically beautiful pas de deux and then — in most versions — she kills herself by throwing herself into the water, he follows suit, vR tears his hair out in agony and then we’re shown a vision of Siegfried and Odette together in the afterlife. (In some Kirov and Bolshoi versions Siegfried slays von Rothbart, and the story ends happily, which I find appalingly cheesy).

So, it’s a story of not being able to love who you truly love because of societal constraints — arranged marriage, familial circumstances, governmentally enforced heterosexuality — what have you, along with themes of deception, unfaithfulness, inconstancy, human fallibility, and deep abiding love eventually conquering all those worldly limitations. But Balanchine makes it about this man caught up in this world of ethereal beauties — which is really a ballet cliche.

There are some really beautiful scenes though. Apollinaire Scherr, who I sat next to the night I saw it (and who likes it much more than I), describes well how in the end, the flock of black swans overtakes Odette, tragically separating her from Siegfried. It’s really visually stunning, horrifying — almost like she’s drowning in the tidal wave they create — and you just want to hold your hand up to block it out. Balanchine does get to the action quickly, and he uses the Tchaikovsky score to its fullest — beginning and ending with the familiar competing von Rothbart and Siegfried / Odette themes, while toy swans slide by in a background lake, showing, at the beginning what Odette has been and in the end what she’s been returned to. I do like the sliding toy swans better than ABT’s version, where von Rothbart, in swamp creature form, is shown grabbing human Odette, taking her behind a curtain, then emerging with a swan stuffed animal. There are other commendable things about Balanchine’s version, but I still think truncating Siegfried’s story the way he does turns it into a ballet cliche and deprives it of its power to speak to the human condition. I know people will disagree with me, but those are my thoughts.