Tag: Twyla Tharp

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SEASON CRUSH: PAUL TAYLOR’S MICHAEL APUZZO

 

Now that Sebastien and Roberto and cohorts have, evilly, fled New York City for Washington DC, poor SLSG has had no choice but to look elsewhere for worthy crush objects. Quite happily, she has found one in this new Paul Taylor guy!

Seriously, I noticed this one right away in the first piece on Saturday’s program, Mercuric Tidings, a fun, flighty, pure movement / music-made-visual dance set to Franz Schubert. Apuzzo was sprightly and precise and had great form, but was also very animated and theatrical.

I nearly burst out laughing when I looked at his bio in the program because I always go for the dramatic types!

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New York City Ballet: Early Music Masters Program

Last night I brought my friend Judy with me to New York City Ballet for their Early Music Masters program. It happened to be a very ballroom-y night: I saw two sets of ballroom dance friends — one a fellow former Pasha student from Dance Times Square, and the other a former fellow West Coast Swing team member from my first studio, DanceSport. Always fun to reconnect and see what everyone’s up to. Actually I often see people I know from the ballroom world at the ballet. So, just a little note to ballet companies: I do really think serious ballroom dancers are a potentially big cross-over audience for ballet.

Anyway, first on the program was Balanchine’s Divertimento No. 15 set to Mozart and in the style of a courtly dance from his era in which ballerinas are clad in sky blue and yellow tutus and their cavaliers in blousy tops with ornate vests. Honestly I find Mozart rather bland for ballet.

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Miami City Ballet

 

I spent practically the whole weekend at Miami City Ballet (at City Center). Wow, what a great, world-class company! They presented two programs of almost all Balanchine (one Tharp) and they really brought Balanchine to life for me. The company’s director is Edward Villella, who performed with Balanchine and was a very renowned dancer in the fifties and sixties, still considered by many to be the greatest American male dancer ever. He was there of course and took bows with the dancers. Twyla Tharp was also there for the program showing her In The Upper Room, bouncing around  during the curtain calls in jeans and sneakers with her gray hair tied back into a pony tail, and of course her signature glasses. What fun!

Anyway, program one was: the excellent Symphony in Three Movements (my first time seeing it), La Valse (also my first time — gorgeous ballet), and Tharp’s Room; program two was: Square Dance, “Rubies” (the second section of Jewels), and Symphony in C.

My favorites were mostly from the first program.

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Two Big Ballet Companies Begin Their Winter Seasons

Last night marked the start of Miami City Ballet‘s New York City Center season, which is very exciting because, not only is this that company’s Manhattan debut, but it marks the return of the company’s director, the famous Edward Villella, to the stage on which he began his career as a ballet dancer, in 1957, with Balanchine’s company — New York City Ballet. NYCB’s current home, the State Theater (now known, after recent renovations, as the David H. Koch Theater) wasn’t yet built then so City Center was the company’s main stage. I’ll be going to a couple of their performances later in the week and can’t wait. I especially can’t wait for Tharp’s In the Upper Room, one of my favorites. So psyched they’re doing it!

Last night was also San Francisco Ballet’s opening night gala. The co-founder of Twitter was there and he mobile tweeted that the event was like an unofficial Twitter headquarters. Most cool! Hopefully, we’ll be getting a full report of the evening from Jolene.

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Joan Acocella on America’s Skepticism of Ballet

 

 

There’s a good article by Joan Acocella in this week’s New Yorker reviewing a couple of recent dances at Brooklyn Academy of Music. In it, she talks about American choreographers and their uneasiness with ballet, their distrust of the dance form as inherently European (and snobbish). Hence, their need constantly to compare and contrast it with other forms of dance, even to deconstruct it.

Funny, but when I saw Tharp’s Brief Fling recently during American Ballet’s Theater’s City Center season, as much as I liked the fun of it (especially since my favorites Marcelo Gomes and Craig Salstein danced in my program — both of whom really up the drama and humor as far as they can possibly go), I couldn’t help but get annoyed thinking, why do so many choreographers either contrast ballet with other dance forms (with modern, with American social, with aerobics, with tango — in Brief Fling, it was with traditional Celtic or Scottish dance) or try to take it apart and show its underpinnings, to critique it — like early William Forsythe, like Jorma Elo, like even the new piece ABT commissioned by Lauri Stallings? So, I was thankful for Acocella’s little historical discussion of American choreography and ballet. Go here for the article.

She also reviews, Urban Bush Women and Compagnie Jant-Bi and falls for African dance! Yes, Joan 😀

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Guardian Angel, Chase Brock Experience, Three Movements, San Francisco Ballet, Cynthia Gregory, Doctor Atomic

 

 

Blah! I had a very strange dream last night in which this one basically told me in his own sweet way that I need to calm down and not stress over blogging like a mad fiend. I have no idea why Angel Corella was on my mind since, although my favorite ballet company begins their City Center season tonight, he, for the second CC season in a row now, is not participating (likely to work on his own company, in Spain). Which is probably why he invaded my dreams — I’ll be missing him badly these next two weeks.

I do know why blogging like a crazed nutter was on my mind. I’m trying to juggle way too much. I’m like a rabbit on speed these days. While I love blogging about dance, sadly, it doesn’t pay and I need to spend less time writing ridiculously long reviews (which I don’t think people appreciate anyway) and more time on paying work (and on writing the two novels I’m currently working on simultaneously, as well as revising my first, and on legal CLE courses so I can keep my license). I honestly think I was less busy when I was practicing law full time.

So, in the interest of shorter reviews (there will be a couple of longer ones in other publications, and I’ll link when they’re up), here goes my last, insane, week:

1) Chase Brock Experience:

 

Went to this last night. Was supposed to see Danny Tidwell perform as a guest artist but he didn’t show, nor did Neil Haskell. Edwaard Liang did, and he and Elizabeth Parkinson (Tony-nominated star of Tharp / Billy Joel project, Movin’ Out, pictured above in John Bradley photo, taken from here) were, by far, the highlights. Parkinson, in specific, showed me how a great dancer can make any choreographer look good. Everything she did had meaning, even basic choreography (and Brock’s choreography is very basic) like rising to the balls of her feet. The way she went on releve was heavenly.

I hadn’t heard of Brock, but he’s a 25-year-old choreographer who makes theater, modern, and ballet (non-pointe) dances. His modern and ballet were lacking — choreography was very basic, very unoriginal. It was like he was a Larry Keigwin but without the ingeniousness, originality, and sophisticated sense of humor. He’s young though, and can learn a lot by watching other, more sophisticated artists.

2) Three Movements

This is an off-off-Broadway play on Theater Row I saw on Sunday, about the Balanchine, Tanaquil LeClerq, Suzanne Farrell true-story melodrama. The characters were given different names, but playwright Martin Zimmerman made clear it was based the Balanchine story.

First, I finally got to meet (NYTimes writer and now blogger) Claudia La Rocco, in the elevator of all places! Fun fun – -by far the best part of the afternoon, as well as hanging out with my ballroom friend, Mika.

If you’re not a balletomane, story is basically this: Balanchine, the Russian / American choreographer, could only work, and could only fall in love (non-sexually, as many contend he was a closeted gay man) with ballerinas who could be his muse. He often married his muses, but of course, no sex. He married his muses, then obsessed over their bodies, every little flaw, and starved them (in the documentary Ballets Russes, many of the dancers remember him taking food away from his wife Maria Tallchief, because she was too “fat” — ie: large-boned; their marriage lasted approximately 5 minutes, because Tallchief had a brain). Is it obvious yet how much I like Balanchine as a person?

So, he married Tanaquil LeClerq, up-and-coming ballerina extraordinaire, his main muse, and therefore star of all of his ballets. After driving her hard in rehearsal — the choreographer comes across here as completely impossible to please — she collapses, tragically stricken with polio, unable ever to walk again. I don’t know why more writers don’t focus on her — her story seems the most awful, the most pathetic, the most heart-wrenching. Because she can no longer be his muse, he falls out of love with her. He must look for a new one, which he finds in 18-year-old Suzanne Farrell. Of course he falls in love with her, dumps bedridden LeClerq, and proposes to Farrell (he’s 60, mind you, and is dumbfounded when she doesn’t accept). But Farrell is in love with a male ballet dancer in the troupe, Paul Mejia. In a jealous rage, Balanchine fires Mejia (yes, the man is a walking advertisement for the need for sexual harassment law), fires Farrell, and threatens she’ll never be anything without him, etc. etc.

It’s very hard to make Balanchine likeable. Here, I could tell there were many in the audience who knew nothing about him, judging by all the snickers and harrumphs when the actor (Mike Timoney) recited his more misogynistic fare (telling Farrell her tiny thighs were too fat — which the dancer recounts at the beginning of her autobiography, so it’s not untrue — and screaming at her later when she tries to leave him, telling her he didn’t teach her, but “created” her — the man had a major God complex, to put it mildly). To me, this play did nothing to make me feel any sympathy toward Balanchine whatsoever. Nor did I feel what it was about him that made his work genius. But, then, I already knew the story and had preconceived notions of how I’d feel upon seeing it dramatized. Perhaps someone who didn’t already know the story is a better judge here?

It’s no mystery why writers choose to re-tell this story. It makes for great drama. Of the fictionalized accounts I’ve read though, I like Adrienne Sharp’s the most, and recommend it, particularly if you don’t know the story (it’s a short story contained in this collection, all about dancers). She most softened Balanchine’s edges, making him human, vulnerable, and to some extent, even forgivable.

The play runs through October 26th and tix are $18.

3) San Francisco Ballet

 

 

Went back for more on Saturday, and loved them again. Dancer-wise, they are one of the best companies in the world. Everyone, down to the most recently-hired corps member, is just flawless. Standing out to me again were the same ones as before — Lorena Feijoo, Davit Karapetyan, Pascal Molat (their bravura dancer), and the newbie Cuban guy Taras Domitro — probably because I was looking for them; they also had main roles though.

As far as the dances go, my favorites (I saw two out of three programs) were Concerto Grosso and On a Theme of Paganini, both by the company’s artistic director, Helgi Tomasson; Ibsen’s House, by Val Caniparoli, whose work I’d never seen before; and Balanchine’s The Four Temperaments. Sir Alastair did not like anything on that list besides the last and, though I disagree with him, I can see his point. Tomasson’s choreography is very basic, very classical ballet, nothing out of the traditional vocabulary, and nothing like the richness, the variety, the suspenseful development, and the engrossing intricacies of Balanchine. Seeing the Balanchine next to Tomasson makes you realize Balanchine’s genius (the way a play about him likely never could).

But what I like about Tomasson is that he knows how near-perfect his dancers are, and he showcases that to maximum, brilliant, spectacular effect. Concerto Grosso is basically a male ballet class, beginning with simple tendus, all the way up to the super-advanced ginormous leaps, barrell turns, and twisty, impossible-looking corkscrew jumps. These men are such excellence personified, I could sit there and watch that ballet repeat all day long. In fact, I recommend to anyone seriously trying to learn ballet to see this company, and watch very closely. The dancers are not only perfectly precise, every movement perfectly, fully executed, but they somehow add so much character and passion to every little thing they do. Even non-story ballets grow to have little narratives with this lot.

Which is why I liked Ibsen too. This is not so much a rendition of any of Ibsen’s plays as a kind of an expressionistic work of Ibsen’s universe. Women wearing richly hued fabrics in 19th Century designs, dance in solo, in units, and with their men, all of their stories fraught with drama, with anger, conflict, love. I didn’t know what exactly was going on in each little segment, and I don’t think the choreographer meant for you to, but watching the dancers lament, cherish, struggle both internally (which, brilliantly, could be read on both face in movement of the body, particularly with Feijoo) and with each other, was deeply engaging. And made me want to read up on my Ibsen!

Philip has some more great pictures of the company on his blog, here and here.

4) Cynthia Gregory at Barnes & Noble

 

On Friday night, I went to see the legendary ballerina give a talk with writer Joel Lobenthal at the B&N at Lincoln Center, basically to promote her new DVD, of her dancing with equally legendary Fernando Bujones (now deceased). We saw some clips of that DVD, particularly of her dancing Strindberg’s Miss Julie (had no idea there was a ballet made from that play!) and excerpts of her dancing Sleeping Beauty. She was a truly gorgeous dancer, moved with a great deal of emotion and purpose and fluidity, and with her size, seemed to devour the stage (kind of like a Veronika Part). And she was very dramatic, very expressive — would have been my kind of dancer, and I can see why Apollinaire loves her. Apollinaire’s also right about Bujones: he does resemble my favorite!

Gregory has a sweet, very charming personality. She talked about dancing with Bujones, and her various other partners, including Erik Bruhn, and Nureyev, whom she characterizes (unlike many who’ve worked with him) as very sweet and mild-tempered, albeit passionate, and said she was thinking of writing a book about all of her male partners — she danced with basically everyone who was anyone in the 70s and 80s. She was greatly encouraged to do so (write the book, that is) by the crowd (which pretty much packed the reading room).
One thing I found interesting, she said Bruhn taught her how to make up words to her movements and her miming gestures, which helped a great deal with her acting. Brilliant, Erik Bruhn! So, inside, she was singing words to herself while dancing. I think all dancers should do this, so they know what they’re trying to do, all the better to show us.

She talked about what she learned from other female dancers of her day, Carla Fracci (how to imbue her roles with humanity), Natalia Makarova (making the most of slow, dramatic developpes), how she coaches today, what it was like to work with big choreographers like Ashton, Tudor, and Balanchine (only worked with the latter once), traveling with the company, and just her life in general. She also mentioned she’s taken up painting and there will be a showing of her work in December at the Vartali Salon (yes her hair salon!), in NY.

5) Doctor Atomic

 

 

I saw this opera at the beginning of last week at the Met. It tells the true story of J. Robert Oppenheimer and his work in creating the world’s first atomic bomb, which we of course dropped over Hiroshima and Nagasaki, during WWII. The opera takes place before we bombed Japan, though, in July 1945 when Oppenheimer and his crew were testing it in New Mexico. It deals with the different personalities involved — Oppenheimer and his wife, his co-workers, the demanding military man who oversaw production — and each person’s internal conflicts and power struggles with the others.

Because I am tired and hungry — I started this post nearly 4 hours ago — I’m just going to refer you to Anthony Tommasini’s review for description, to scenes of the opera on the Times website, to the Met’s mini-site, and to Alex Ross’s blog where you can listen to one of the best arias in the work.

As I said before, I don’t have a lot of opera-going experience, but I liked this and think it’s definitely worth waiting in line for one of those $30 tickets, as I did. In particular, I liked: the sets — the mobile art-work suggesting pieces of debris hanging from the ceiling, the enormous bomb itself (anatomically correct, as the artist worked from a model), the cubicle-d office the physicists worked in, the posters of the actual people involved posted at times over the cubicle holes in place of their bodies, the gorgeous Native American katchina-like statues that at one point stand atop the the cubicles in warning; some of the choreographed movement — at one point singers are contorted in their cubicles, limbs askew, doing a prolonged handstand, their legs and feet bent awkwardly, shoved up against one side — in synecdoche of the effects of the blast; the libretto, comprised of actual documents from that period, writings and speeches of Oppenheimer, and the poetry of Baudelaire, John Donne, and Muriel Rukeyser, beloved by Oppenheimer; and of course the John Adams score itself, creating the whole atmosphere of horror, conflict, fear, and at the end, right before the blast, the drums just beat through your body — I was actually shaking — and this is followed by the voice of a Japanese woman searching for loved ones, for water, asking for help. The whole thing is spectacular, chilling, haunting.

Okay, I don’t know how well I obeyed, Angel, but it’s time to stop, time for my poached eggs & croissant 🙂

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Fall For Dance Finale

 

So, Fall For Dance wrapped up nicely; there were really no pieces on the last night’s program that I didn’t like. First on was the Aspen Santa Fe Ballet’s production of a Twyla Tharp dance I’d never seen, SWEET FIELDS, from 1996, which seemed to me a bit unlike her usual fare. It was joyous, spiritual, very lyrical, with dancers dressed in white flowing cloth, moving to Shaker hymnals. The one section that was very ‘Tharp-y’ was filled with breathtaking group lifts: at one point a group of men held one man up high above their heads, they suddenly released him and he rolled down, falling almost bungie-jump-like nearly to the floor, until they caught him at the very last second. The audience collectively gasped then applauded wildly.

 

Second on was San Francisco Ballet dancing Jerome Robbins’ lovely, ballroom-y IN THE NIGHT set to melodious Chopin played by an onstage pianist. The dance consists of three duets performed by three different couples — one the wondrous Yuan Yuan Tan (whom I’ve heard so much about; and she definitely lived up to her reputation!) with Ruben Martin; the second by Sofiane Sylve (who used to dance with New York City Ballet) and Tiit Helimets; and the third by the celebrated Cuban dancer Lorena Feijoo and Pierre-Francois Vilanoba. Tan and Martin represented a more mature, in love couple, their dancing very flowing and elegant, Sylve and Helimets I wasn’t sure about because to be honest I didn’t feel all that much from their dancing, and Feijoo (who’s a real firecracker) and Vilanoba (who kind of played her straight man, appearing humorously unable to figure her out, to foresee her antics, her wild jumps into his arms) the fun, young couple whose relationship centered around rather cutely played out sexual angst. The audience had a lot of fun, giggling throughout, particularly at Feijoo and Vilanoba.

I have to say, San Francisco Ballet, who are currently celebrating their 75th Anniversary, was a lovely company; they brought Robbins to life for me in a way I’ve seldom seen, and I look forward to seeing more of them at City Center later in the season.

 

Third was popular Spanish choreographer Nacho Duato’s Compania Nacional De Danza performing his COR PERDUT, a Gypsy-esque male / female duet between two likely lovers, each often running after the other playfully, then turning more serious, the man eventually picking up the woman, sweeping her off the ground, twirling her about. Very sweet theme, and the music — Turkish and sung in Catalan — was gorgeous.

 

And closing out the festival was Paul Taylor Dance Company’s popular ESPLANADE, set to Bach and choreographed by Taylor in 1975. This was a lot of fun; as dancers ran around stage, whizzing about narrowly missing each other, played hopscotch with each other’s bodies laid out on the floor log-like, and finally flew across stage taking a flying leap into each other’s arms, the crowd went nuts with applause, giving a standing ovation.

Fun, but very tiring, 10 days…

Here is Claudia La Rocco’s review of the last program in the Times.

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A New Tharp and A Revived (And Brilliant) Etudes

Yesterday I finally had the chance to check out the new Twyla Tharp ballet at ABT. Overall, I thought there were exciting parts, and I recognized a lot of elements from her other work, but the sum of the parts didn’t really add up to a compelling whole. I also thought it was very well acted and danced by my favorite 😀 But more on that in a minute. First, let me talk a bit about “Etudes,” which I LOVED, and which was on first.

“Etudes,” by Harald Lander of the Royal Danish Ballet, made in 1948, was a radiant celebration of ballet. It started with very young dancers likely from the Jacqueline Kennedy School of Ballet associated with ABT, then curtains went down and rose again to reveal a set of older dancers warming up at the barre. There were three barres set up in a kind of half-pentagon that opened out toward the audience. The lighting was dark except for a white light shined on their legs. They simply did warm up tendus (points of the toe) to front, out to side, then rondes (circlings of the floor with the leg), then swinging kicks, etc. Basic warm-up vocabulary. But they were all in perfect unison and each set of several dancers pointed, swung, rondeed, etc. in a different direction, making for a mesmerizing effect. At times it looked like a Rockettes routine.

Later, tutued ballerinas, more advanced and ready to learn performance technique, came out and did their own warm-up, the lights making their black puffed-skirts looking almost like upside-down ladies’ wigs from afar. It made for a really cool visual effect. Soon, the barres were taken away and, like in a real class, the floor work began. One set of dancers performed a series of high jumps in place, then began flying across the stage in a diagonal line, doing grand jetes, the men eventually doing barrel turns around its perimeter (my favorite 🙂 ).

 

A prima ballerina, in my version, Irina Dvorovenko — a role perfect for her- emerged in splendid white tutu accompanied by two men, one (Cory Stearns) her princely danseur noble, the other (Jared Matthews) a more bravura type (who performs high, thrilling jumps, fast turns, etc.) — all three the main ingredients of classical ballet. They danced a perfect pas de trois, and at times from my vantage point in the middle orchestra, Irina looked like a tiny china doll atop a child’s music box. She was sheer perfection and the quintessential classical prima ballerina. I like Cory and Jared but don’t think either has the star power, at least at this point (they are both still young) to be her equal.

At first I thought how much more thrilling the ballet would have been with someone like David Hallberg in the princely role and Angel Corella or Herman Cornejo as the virtouso. And then I realized they all would have completely stolen the show. The focus, in this man-centric company, should be on the ballerina for a change! And Irina is the perfect ballerina for that focus.

Anyway, who ever knew simple classical ballet vocabulary, a celebration of the dance from class to performance, could be so captivating? But it was. And the audience ate it up right along with me and went nuts with applause, so I know it wasn’t just me. A great introduction to the thrill and beauty of the art form for people new to ballet, IMO.

 

Now, onto the new Tharp. First, I must say I am beyond overjoyed whenever I get to see either Marcelo Gomes or Jose Carreno onstage, and both had major parts in this ballet, so I was basically on ecstasy 🙂 And of course they both danced marvelously, Marcelo, I think, to an extent saving the ballet with his dramatic skills.

Tharp named it “Rabbit and Rogue,” but it could have been named Everything Tharp But the Kitchen Sink. As in her “In the Upper Room,” at times the dancers appeared to emerge right out of the woodwork, the dark back lighting making the back seem wall-less. There was the pretend playful boxing from that ballet, the poor little fellow who humorously gets beat up by his girl from “Baker’s Dozen,” the balletic vocabulary fighting for space with social dance from “Deuce Coupe.” It’s like she just combined several of her ballets into one.

Anyway, from what I can make of the story-line, it’s something like this: Rogue (Marcelo) and Rabbit (Sascha Radetsky) play-fight with each other, over what I’m not entirely sure, but I think it’s who has the better dance style. Rogue is more modern, moves with more angularity, virility, and solid form; Rabbit is more soft and wiggly, moves in more of a jazzy, not-a-care-in-the-world manner. Rogue as danced by Marcelo seemed more competitive (but in a cutely jocular way) with Rabbit than Rabbit did with Rogue; Rabbit seemed to care less about Rogue’s little jabs and taunts. But this could have been because Marcelo is more of an actor than Sascha…

Anyway, a pair called The Rag Couple (the excellent Kristi Boone, and Cory Stearns again — he must have been tired at the end of the day!) dressed in snazzy black, dance a sexy little number composed of swingy, jazzy elements and a little ballet. I guess they are supposed to represent sinners or denizens of the underworld. The corps emerge dressed in black. Marcelo returns (he and Sascha are also dressed in black unitards with a silver stripe down the side) and dances alone but seems to compete with the corps for attention. At one point, he shuffles off the stage into the wings shrugging and extending a hand outward toward the corps as if indicating he’s given up trying to compete with them and they can have our full attention. Of course the way Marcelo does this is hilarious.

There was a group of four women, probably aged between about 45 and 80 — perhaps a group of sisters taking their mother to the ballet– sitting behind me and the three younger women loved Etudes but the older woman complained it wasn’t her thing; she liked more of a story. When Marcelo made this action, she laughed and shouted I think a little louder than she meant to, “now, this is more my thing!” Her “daughters” giggled and shushed her.

Later, the corps disappear during one of Marcelo’s and Sasha’s alternating solos, only to emerge (again from the wall-less back, as if straight out of the air) now dressed in shiny silvery white. This entourage is led by Jose Carreno (:)) and Maria Riccetto, dancing a pair of characters the program notes call The Gamelan Couple, who dance beautifully together, their vocabularly all ballet. Except it’s not classical ballet. He keeps doing fish dives with her, but with his butt to the audience so you can only see her legs peeking out from behind him. So it’s backwards. (In a way, perhaps Etudes was an ideal ballet to show before this one, since one esteems the classical, the other questions it a bit). This couple represents to me a heavenly ideal, which reminded me again of “Deuce Coupe,” as if it’s the ballet couple who are pure and the social dancers who are cool and fun but a little wild and perhaps bastardize the form a bit. Maybe. Anyway, eventually a group of four — two women, two men — emerge and try to partner each other, sometimes successfully, sometimes not.

 

Poor Craig Salstein, reprising his “Baker’s Dozen” role as the hapless little fellow, who tries to dance with his partner, the normally sweet Sarah Lane. He’d rather tango, but she’d rather ballet (if I can use that as a verb), and they fight and the poor little guy ends up getting beat up a bit by his lady. Eventually, he gives in and dances a very off pas de deux with her, throwing her up in the air like a rag doll. It’s hilarious the way Craig does it; only he can pull it off.

Later, Marcelo returns doing his competitive thing, Sascha comes back, does his dance, more ensemble work,, etc. At one point, Craig holds his hands up in the air looking toward the heavens and mimics, “why me, God, why me?” then shakes his head, helplessly. It’s now apparent he’s the angel sent down to earth to teach Marcelo and Sascha how to behave like proper dancers and stop the ridiculous bickering. Apparently part of their coming together is to learn to partner women because they’ve both been dancing alone throughout and suddenly Craig throws Misty Copeland at them, they throw her around a bit between each other, partnering her weirdly, but I guess not dropping her on her head or anything hugely untoward. Eventually, everyone is happy. They have proven they are good partners who can share the spotlight with a woman, like the perfect Jose can with Maria. (I am probably projecting all manner of my own crap into this, but I don’t know what else to make of this ballet, although I have to say, I’m liking it more the more I’m trying to interpret it). In the end, Marcelo and Sascha shake hands and wave to the audience and all is well; angel Craig has saved the day. The score, by Danny Elfman, was riveting; at times I kind of felt like I was in a Danny Elfman movie, the way the ballet created kind of an over-the-top alternative universe / fantasy world.

By the way, on my way to the store for ice cream afterward, I overheard a young woman talking on her cell phone pronounce Misty “kick ass,” which she was, as always.

 

Reviews have really been mixed. My “colleague” at HuffPost, Patricia Zohn, liked it, Sir Alastair did not, Philip found both good and bad in it. Anyone else?

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My Best of 2007 in Dance

It’s already the second day of 2008 (Happy New Year everyone!) and I’m just now getting my best of last year up; sorry so late! I was tagged by Jen & Jolene, so I’ll formulate my “best of” as a response to their survey:

 

1) Best Performance of the Year: I had many favorites, but I guess overall I’ll have to say Alessandra Ferri’s farewell performance with ABT in Romeo & Juliet at the Met. She was my favorite ballerina for many years and I’m still missing her. Plus, I was introduced to La Scala’s Roberto Bolle, who guest performed 😀

2) Best Male Performer of the Year: Definitely Clifton Brown of Alvin Ailey!

 

3) Best Female Performer of the Year: I thought a lot about this, and I know I’m mixing dance genres, but I’m going to say Yulia Zagoruychenko. She had a damn good year. She, with Max Kozhevnikov, made the Latin finals at Blackpool this year, being the only US couple to do so, then, later in the year, went on to displace the several-year-long U.S. National champs to win that title. At the end of the year, she survived a partner change and went on to win her first competition with him, Riccardo Cocchi. She is adored by many both nationally and internationally and she is very deserving of her hard-won success. Go Yulia and Riccardo!

 

4) Best New Discovery of the Year: This is too hard because there were so many dancers and choreographers whom I was introduced to this year who aren’t necessarily new to the scene, but just to me! List includes: choreographers Camille A. Brown, Luca Veggetti, Luciana Achugar, Kyle Abraham, and Robert Battle; composer Nico Muhly; dancers Kirven Boyd, Antonio Douthit and Yannick LeBrun (all of Alvin Ailey — the last I forgot to mention in my last post on AA; fortunately Susan reminded me in her comment!), and Roberto Bolle (who was new to me this year); Brazilian troupe Mimulus; Nora Chipaumire of Urban Bush Women (pictured above this number) at the Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival; the Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival itself (it’s been around for aeons, but I had my first experience there this year). That’s all I can think of for now, but I’m sure I’ll think of bizillions of people I forgot later…

5) Best Regional / Local Performance of the Year: I think this is more of a theater question since there’s usually a big distinction between regional theater and a Broadway show, or a company who tours, but, since physically it was “local,” I’ll say NYCB’s spring season opening night. It was just too much fun watching all those celebrities walk down that red carpet and overhearing goofy crowd comments, and then writing about it all (although my mother was aghast at me for my using the word “whores” in my blog title!)

6) Best Performance in a Non-Traditional Venue: This is a toss-up between the wonderful “Accounting For Customs” performed on the steps of the US Customs House, and the super fun and impossible-to-tear-yourself-away-from Lincoln Center ‘drive-in,’ David Michalek’s “Slow Dancing” films.

 

7) Favorite Televised Theater Event: I didn’t really have a favorite in this category (since the only thing I saw fitting it was Mark Morris’s “Mozart Dances” on PBS which I didn’t care for), so I’ll just state my favorite dance TV show, which was SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE. Duh.

 

8) Biggest Dance Obsession: Alvin Ailey, Alvin Ailey, Alvin Ailey. Again, if you’ve read my blog over the past several weeks, Duh 😀

9) Most Likely To Be The Next Big Thing: Eee. Hard! So hard to predict. But I’m going to name a few: ABT’s Blaine Hoven and Vitali Krauchenka,


Kirven Boyd and Antonio Douthit at Alvin Ailey,

 

Craig Hall at NYCB,

 

choreographer Camille A. Brown…

 

Again, I’m sure I’m leaving people out…

10) Most Anticipated Performance Of 2008: Eee, another tough one. There are so many things I’m looking forward to this year. I guess the biggest is going to be Blackpool. Since the current decade-long Latin champs retired last year, there will be a new Latin winner, which is really exciting to me since it’s my favorite event there. I’m hoping for Slavik Kryklyvyy and Elena Khvorova,

 

I’m also looking forward to Twyla Tharp’s new ballet that ABT will premiere in the Spring at the Met,

 

And I’m looking forward to Nikolaj Hubbe’s farewell performance with NYCB (he is returning to Denmark). Not that I’m looking forward to bidding him farewell, but to the show NYCB will put on in his honor.

Okay my brain is tired now. If anyone else wants to add their “best ofs” in a comment here or on their own blog, please do so!

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More Work From "Blood Memory" Please!

I love this dance company so much. And I love Alvin Ailey’s work in particular. AAADT artistic director Judith Jamison quotes Ailey as having said that his choreography is the result of his “blood memory” of his southern boyhood. He said the greatest works of art are the most personal, come from the deepest-rooted place. Nothing could be more true.

So, my own Alvin Ailey season began last Saturday afternoon with Mr. Ailey’s “Night Creature,” one of my favorites and a dance that I would call a combination of ballet, jazz and Afro-Latin / Samba centered on a sweetly spotlight-demanding jazz diva and her man servant, backed by a large ensemble of dancers, and set to Duke Ellington music. The movement was a combination of beautiful ballet — soft, slow, fully extended developped legs, arabesques and partnered lifts; cool jazz hands and rhythmic hip swaying side-together steps; and, yes, Samba! It is so very cool for me as someone who has only very basic ballet training but much more extensive ballroom experience to be able to recognize so many steps!

Near the beginning of the piece, the ensemble circles around the central dancers by doing what are basically Samba voltas (back foot takes a side step, front crosses over and pelvis rotates fully), or even a kind of Salsa Suzie-Q if you know what that is, later, dancers slither forward in sexy, snaky pelvis-undulating cruzado walks, then there are stationary samba walks (feet together, then one foot slides back while the corresponding hip cooly juts upward and outward), side sambas, whisks, everything. It’s so exciting; I just want to scream out, “I can do that!” But of course I can’t — at least I can’t do it anything like those miraculous dancers. If I could, if I could be a real “night creature,” how my dance dreams would be complete! Anyway, I love how this work splendidly blends European Ballet, Afro-Latin Samba, and American Jazz — it’s everything; it’s brilliant.

 

Second was “Solo,” a shortish piece by choreographer Hans van Manen from 1997, danced to classical Bach. In this piece three men each take turns performing a series of solos, charmingly vying with each other in a kind of ‘who can be the most fast-footed, nimble dancer’ contest, each performing his own staccato interpretation of the very quick-tempo-ed violins. Some solos used a more classical vocabulary and were more poetic, others more of a comical riff on the classical. At times, it would seem that at the beginning of his solo, a man would be playfully taunting the previous dancer by making fun of his routine. This reminded me of a B-Boy showdown, like that I saw in a Tribeca Film Festival film earlier this year. Very fun! At the end, all three men take the stage at the same time and try to outwit / outdance each other. It’s a charming piece, and the classical music and balletic vocabulary is a nice contrast to the jazzy sexiness of “Night Creature.”

 

The company also premiered “Saddle Up!,” a new comical story-dance by Frederick Earl Mosley, about several ranchhands and their romantic pursuits. The piece begins with a rather innocent-looking new sheriff riding into town on his stick horse, having no idea what awaits him. He “parks” his “horse” and the scene shifts to a wedding he officiates between two doe-eyed young lovers, attended by two sisters — one flirtatious and sultry and donning a bright orange feather boa, which she tries to lasso around various men, the other silently sad but the object of affection of the wedding photographer, who continuously snaps her picture, she smiling, but only briefly and only for his camera. There’s a suggestion of scandal to come when the tossed bouquet is caught by sultry feather boa woman.

After the wedding, the scene shifts to an innocent young woman who is apparently about to be corrupted by a flirtatious womanizing outlaw. New sheriff, however, saves the day after he is victorious in a hilariously acrobatic, laugh-out-loud showdown with said outlaw, which promptly causes the young innocent woman to fall madly in love with her knight in shining armor. She does a beautiful little lyrical dance with the sheriff’s hat, which he has accidentally left behind. When he returns to retrieve it, they skip off together into the sunset, holding hands. Aww 🙂

The rest of the scenes consist of a lyrical, tenderly-danced first lovers’ quarrel between the newlyweds, and an equally tender courting scene between the photographer and the sad woman. This is followed by a fast-paced, fun, light-hearted scene in which feather boa woman is pursued by a whole bevy of cowhands who try to wow her with their partnering abilities. Lovely lifts and swingy, waltzy dances ensue. It ends with a big square-dance hoedown. It’s a fun, lively piece and the dancers are marvelous comical actors.

Still, cute as “Saddle Up!” was, it didn’t hold a candle to the last dance on Saturday’s program, “Revelations.” But I guess it’s unfair to compare anything to Mr. Ailey’s masterpiece. If you haven’t ever seen this dance, if you haven’t ever seen Ailey, if you’ve seen “So You Think You Can Dance” and the other TV shows and are now thinking of going to see a concert dance performance, please please please start with this one! Seriously, it’s everything. It’s about spirituality, redemption, grace, freedom from oppression through religion, it’s a celebration of faith and of life itself. It speaks to everyone because everyone — at least in this country (and now Sir Alastair too 😀 ) is familiar with the black church, with its celebration of life and freedom, with its history and pride and roots in the civil rights movement. Not to sound cheesy and Oprah-ish, but it’s so uplifting. The first time I ever saw it was not long after 9/11 and I was bawling when it ended. For a work created over forty years earlier, to me that’s the definition of timelessness.

It’s funny but my favorite parts of this dance change every few times I see it. The first few times, my favorite was the very end, “Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham,” a swingy, very upbeat number involving the whole ensemble dancing in a church setting to a hymnal. Makes you want to get up out of your chair and dance with them, and sometimes, when they do an encore, the audience does! Then my favorite became “Sinner Man” another quick-tempo-ed, but more sober number in which three men run about the stage, frightened, attempting vainly to escape the wrath of God, and in doing so, perform breathtaking jumps, leaps and turns. Then I began to love “Wade in the Water,” the Baptism scene (pictured at the top of this post) in which ladies in glorious white carrying sun umbrellas, men waving two long blue sheets across the stage, and one man flickering small flags about with his arms and rolling his torso as if it was fluid water, all make you feel like you’re at the beach being baptized along with the two young souls onstage. This time, I was blown away by “Fix Me, Jesus,” a slow, beautiful prayer of a pas de deux danced by a man and woman to a slavery spiritual.

The company dances “Revelations” with a great many of their performances; please do try to see it if you never have!

 

On Sunday, I saw the company premiere of “Firebird,” the version from 1970 by French choreographer Maurice Bejart. Bejart, who recently passed away, was known for taking classical ballets and re-working them using modern dance and just amazing athleticism. His ballets were often male-centered.

Here, the curtains rose to reveal an ensemble of dancers dressed in splotchy gray baggy pants and tops. The coloring of the costumes to me resembled Army fatigues, so, that along with the way the dancers would huddle together in fear, then fall to the ground crouching, crawling toward something they saw far in the distance — safety from an encroaching enemy perhaps — made me think this was a war scene. I later learned that Bejart had intended his “Firebird” to be a kind of salutation to Mao Tse Tung’s Red Army, so perhaps these corps dancers were supposed to be workers. The outfits almost resembled a painter’s garb, now that I think of it. Regardless, the ensemble dancers were downtrodden, the fearful, those in danger. Suddenly, one of them, a man, threw off his drab earthly costume to reveal a bright red body suit; he was their savior. This firebird was danced brilliantly by Clifton Brown (in the picture above), who soared around stage in a series of gorgeous leaps, taking time out here and there to perform more adagio poetic developpes and turns.

The choreography was really interesting to me. The firebird is traditionally female, and here, Bejart’s is male. But his bird is not only powerful, leading the corps to freedom, but is beautiful and delicate and lyrical as well. So the dancer must excel at both the more masculine feats — the grand jetes, the high jumps — and the more lyrical feminine adagio parts, the developpes and arabesques. Brown is such a tall, large-boned man, and it amazes me how soft and delicate and graceful he can be.

Soon, the firebird exhausts his power, dancing his heart out as he does, for the people, and he slowly and tragically dies. The corps is shattered but only momentarily, as, through the aid of another firebird, this one played by equally larger-than-life Jamar Roberts, in an enchanting two-male pas de deux filled with beautiful lifts, the original firebird rises again like a Phoenix.

It’s set to the original Stravinsky music. This was my first time seeing something by Bejart and overall I found it spectacular. There have been all of a bizillion and a half write-ups in NY about this company and, in particular, this piece. Go here for a pretty comprehensive list.

Last on for Sunday was Twyla Tharp’s fast, fun, glittering “Golden Section” from 1983 danced to pulsating David Byrne music, the dancers bedazzling in gold costumes. The movement varies from lyrical ballet to sexy 80s-style body rolls, pelvic-gyrations, partnered “death spirals” the likes of which I’ve seen in Disco / Hustle competitions, and absolute death-defying lifts (a man tossing a woman from afar into the arms of a group of men, a woman running and throwing herself at an unsuspecting man, hoping he’ll catch her). I would be so scared to perform this piece! Jamar Roberts took my breath away with a series of whipping fouette turns with multiple pirouettes thrown in. He blew everyone away actually; he received some major applause for that.

This is Tharp’s Modus Operendi: the combination of classical ballet with other kinds of contemporary dance – social, ballroom, jazz, swing, Latin, disco, whatever the popular dance of the day is. It allows her always to stay fresh, exciting, contemporary and accessible to new audiences.

What I love about this company in general is that they choose to perform choreography like this: pieces that combine different forms of dance that can speak to different generations, but also works that, like Ailey’s, are timeless because they touch your soul, speak fundamentally to the human condition. And the great thing about this company is that they TOUR, so you don’t have to live in NY to see them!!! Go here for their upcoming schedule.

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It All Begins With a Box…

“I start every dance with a box. I write the project name on the box, and as the piece progresses I fill it up with every item that went into the making of the dance. This means notebooks, news clippings, CDs, videotapes of me working alone in my studio, videos of the dancers rehearsing, books and photographs and pieces of art that may have inspired me.

. . .

eventually the material for [Movin’ Out] filled up twelve boxes.”

Twyla Tharp, THE CREATIVE HABIT.

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ABT Marathon Weekend Wrap-Up

Just finishing my City Center-spectating season and am so sad. I hate this time of year. My favorite dance company is gone and I won’t be seeing them again until May. Oh well.

I went to the last three performances (Friday night, Saturday matinee, Saturday night); here are my highlights:

 

I really loved all of the dancers who performed my favorite short ballroomy ballet — Tharp’s “Sinatra Suite” — but yesterday Herman and Misty Copeland (in headshot above) in particular took my breath away. Herman was the closest thing to Baryshnikov that I’ve seen, in terms of the actual movement (he has the smallest body of the three men who danced the role — other two were Jose and Marcelo — thus the closest in body type to Baryshnikov). The piece was choreographed on Baryshnikov and some of the movement, like the quick, jumpy weight shift in the first song, looked the cleanest on Herman; whereas Marcelo, for example, almost couldn’t move fast enough and missed a beat. But what Marcelo and Jose may lack a bit in that department, they more than make up for in the over-the-top personality they give to the role, particularly in the “That’s Life” song. In fact, everyone seemed to be able to do the “That’s Life” cocky shithead guy very (almost frighteningly) well; it’s the other three songs: “Strangers in the Night,” “All the Way,” and “My Way,” where they seem a little more bland, seeming to play the same guy three times. To me the first song (“Strangers”) is about two people just meeting and falling for each other, the second (“All the Way”) actually falling in love, the third (“Life”) having a problem moment, and the fourth (“My Way”) his saying he needs to go it alone, then the fifth, the male solo danced to “One for My Baby,” evokes his missing her. It seems like all the men danced to each of those songs besides “Life”, played each of those roles, the same way: all classy and romancy, giving only cocky “That’s Life” guy something unique.

Misty danced the female role better than I’ve ever seen it done, including by Elaine Kudo, who danced the original with Baryshnikov. That girl had personality galore and was not about to let the guy get away with anything. Go Misty! The others seemed to let the guy push them around too much. But again, I focus on “That’s Life.” She didn’t seem to do anything breathtaking in the other three duets. It’s funny, ballet dancers normally dance dreamy in-love princes and princesses, temple dancers and warriors, fairytale characters and their knights in shining armour — you think they’d be able to do a contemporary romantic routine?…

 

Anyway, Misty also floored me with her performance in Tharp’s “Baker’s Dozen,” which I ended up seeing a total of four times. In my final viewing of it yesterday, Misty danced the part of the flirty girl who keeps hopping on poor Craig‘s unsuspecting back. She was so fun and playful, proved to have just as much charisma as Craig, and she just has a natural jazz body. If I was Twyla, I’d definitely choreograph everything new I did from here on out on Misty; she is THE female Tharp dancer.

Also, when I first saw this ballet I wrote that I felt the company wasn’t putting everything they had into it, but suspected that may be because it was a brand new one for them. After having seen it numerous times now, I know I was right. They’re doing so much better, they’re really nailing the teasing / sexy / cool / jazzy / clownish / playful / swingy nature of it all. What a fun ballet! Craig still stands out, but in a ballet like this that requires solid acting skill, it’s almost unfair to compare anyone else to him, he’s such a natural. If he wasn’t a ballet dancer, I’m positive he’d be enjoying a very successful Broadway career.

(do not ask why these photos are varying sizes; I’m simply copying them from ABT’s website and have no clue what kinds of codes they’ve written in or what kind of codes my blog software is somehow putting in! It just so happens that pictures of Marcelo come out the largest, I swear! Above are Marcelo and Julie in “Leaves”)

Yesterday, I had my first ever viewing of Antony Tudor’s 1975 ballet, “The Leaves Are Fading,” which the company has revived for this season. Wow, it was really beautiful, albeit in a bittersweet kind of way. It began with a woman coming out onstage wearing a long, green ballroom dress. She walked around as if deep in thought, reminiscing. She left and several male and female dancers entered all wearing pinky-peach costumes — the women in flowing summery dresses, the men in blousy tops with sweet gentlemanly little silk scarves. The group danced lyrically as an ensemble then broke into duets, each seeming to symbolize a different time in a relationship — young innocent love, then slightly older and more fraught with angst, then more mature; and Marcelo and Julie, my favorite partnership (have I said that before? 🙂 ) danced the main, more mature couple. They dance so beautifully together, she just floats in his arms so effortlessly, so romantic, so poetic. The backdrop and wings were painted various shades of green, as if to evoke a field, and the pink costumes made the dancers almost look like flowers at points. At the end, green dress woman re-enters, her presence framing her memories, coming to terms with them, making clear they are about a past youthful love that no longer exists but will always remain part of her. Fittingly teary end to my own emotional farewell to ABT season! It was so lovely you just get caught up in the images, in the feelings they evoke. They didn’t have many performances of this ballet and I only got one chance to see it, so I hope they put it on again next year. I’d really like to see it again.

Finally, this year the company revived Agnes de Mille’s “Fall River Legend,” based on the true life story of Lizzie Borden, who killed her parents with an axe after their severe abuse of her. I saw this ballet on Friday night with Apollinaire, who loved it. Go here for a little write-up on that (read the “Note,” at the end of this post; also read the post for her review of Ballet du Grand Theater du Geneve, which I saw with her (and really liked!) but haven’t had a chance to review yet). Anyway, I personally didn’t care much for the de Mille. I feel that she only presented a partial story, leaving out the parental abuse that’s necessary to make sense of Lizzie’s actions. The ballet begins with Lizzie’s being sentenced to hang for her crime, then flashes back to her life. The flashback begins with her father being very loving toward Lizzy, then a sister dies and a stepmother enters the scene, who doesn’t much seem to like Lizzy, but doesn’t seem particularly horrible to her, and the father still seems to be loving albeit traumatized by the sister’s death. All of a sudden Lizzie is shown fighting the urge to hack up her dad and stepmom, then eventually succumbing to it. The rest of the ballet (the main part) is devoted to Lizzie being remorseful and haunted by what she has done, slowly accepting her fate. I agree with Apollinaire that Gillian Murphy was just amazing in this role — she perfectly captured the awkward outcast, making me both feel sorry for her Lizzie and fearing her. But, without the choreographer’s devoting any time to the family’s abuse of her, all of that great acting was unfortunately reduced to melodrama.

Lastly, I saw Benjamin Millepied’s “From Here on Out” again yesterday and it did grow slightly on me the second time around. I’m still far more in love with the Nico Muhly musical score though and can’t wait to get my hands on a recording of it. Again, I particularly liked the final third of the ballet, when the crescendo really starts to build. I feel like Millepied was really getting started just as he was ending. I really liked the second cast that I saw, led by Isabella Boylston and Cory Stearns. Isabella in particular was perfect at those angular abstract contemporary moves — I almost thought I was seeing NYCB (who does more abstract contemporary ballets) at points!; Isabella’s ideal for contemporary.

Well, I’ll be excited to hear what others, for example, in Berkeley, (for example, Jolene!!!), have to say about the new Millepied as well as the new Elo, “Close to Chuck.” Sad as I am about ABT leaving NY now, the good thing is they’re a touring company, so you don’t have to be in NY to see them. Go here to check their touring schedule. These are the greatest dancers in the world (Tidwell was once one of them, remember 🙂 ); please do not pass up the opportunity to see them if they come near your neck of the woods!