New York City Ballet, May 23, 2006

New York City Ballet
New York State Theater
May 23, 2006

Monumentum Pro Gesualdo
Movements for Piano and Orchestra
Tschaikovsky Pas de Deux
Evenfall
Fancy Free

An interesting program, this. I saw it from the second ring (seems like I haven’t been sitting in the fourth ring too often lately. Maybe I should change the name of the blog to The View from Guess Where I’m Sitting Tonight). I’m not competent to discuss Monumentum/Movements yet. I haven’t seen it enough to be able to say anything remotely intelligent about it; but the performances (Reichlin and Evans; Krohn and Evans; and corps) were sharp and good.

Scheller and Veyette danced the Tschaikovsky. Veyette came across as strangely shy, as if he wasn’t used to the idea (or no one told him) that he needed to perform this in a different way than he performs other pieces (i.e., he had to really PERFORM it). Scheller, on the other hand, began somewhat tentatively, but, as if to make up for Veyette’s retreat, came on full force as the piece went on. She danced her variation beautifully.

This was the second time I saw Wheeldon’s new Evenfall, to the Bartók third piano concerto. Of the Diamond Project ballets this season, this is the only one I saw more than once, and I wanted to see it more than once (not something I can say for some of the others). It is somewhat of a departure for him, and I am glad to see that he is seeking to expand his vision and ideas (I am even more glad to see that he seems to have such things). The parts for the soloists and the corps are more interesting than those for the principals (Weese and Woetzel); I am not sure why this is so; these sections also do not seem to be well integrated into the whole. While the piece is not entirely successful, it provides clues to a direction in which Wheeldon might go that could potentially be very fruitful. It was clear that in certain steps and arrangements he was drawing upon Balanchine but I also saw signs (I will need to see it again to give examples) that he was looking to extend this vocabulary into something different (and good). And then again, there were aspects that gave me pause. Evenfall’s "look" is tied in part to its costuming. I have conflicting thoughts about the importance of the costumes here; on the one hand, I think of Balanchine over the years paring down the way (some of) his ballets looked, because what the dancers wore came not to matter (think of Apollo; Four Temperaments). If Evenfall were danced in leotards and tights a visual dimension would be lost. On the other hand, using costume as an integral part of the choreography can be regarded as traditional (Mother Ginger); or avant-garde (Parade; Variations pour une Porte et un Soupir). But these are pieces in which the dance loses its raison d’etre without the costume, and maybe that is the issue: how necessary to the quality of the piece is that visual dimension here? Wheeldon’s choreography is mostly good enough not to have depend on a tutu for it to work…isn’t it?

The final ballet on the program was Fancy Free. I am not a great fan of much of Robbins’s work (don’t ask me about Dances at a Gathering—I know everyone raves about it and I must be the only one in the world who won’t sit through it again—or ye gads, New York Export: Opus Jazz), but Fancy Free is a good ballet, and with a good cast, can be a great ballet. This cast (De Luz, Tyler Angle replacing Orza, and Woetzel; Hankes, Ringer, and Krohn) was first-rate, and they really made the piece shine. Because of their attention to detail and because they are talented actors, they showed it to be a coherent piece of theater, from start to finish: every movement, every gesture exists for a reason; nothing is superfluous, there are no gimmicks, no clichés. Woetzel and Ringer, in particular, articulated their characters very well. The dancing from all was terrific. I left the theater very happy.

New York City Ballet, June 25, 2006

New York City Ballet
New York State Theater
June 25, 2006

Symphony in C
Vienna Waltzes

Boo-hoo. Last performance of the season. What will I do for the next five months? Sit and mope, of course.

Full house. I did not see this from the fourth ring because I got to the box office too late, but from the third ring right side, just a few seats back from the stage, and what an interesting perspective that is. It is partial view (but full price) so I was unable to see most of audience right; but what I could see, I saw well. [The dancers should note that you can see pretty far into the wings from these seats.] They ended with Vienna Waltzes, which got very nice performances: Rutherford and Hübbe (G’schichten aus dem Wienerwald) are both wonderful here, very focused, charming; Fairchild (replacing Borree) and Carmena (Frülingsstimmen) gave a very refreshing performance; Riggins and Tom Gold (Explosions-Polka)—she seems too sophisticated for this rustic polka, but who cares—those wigs! Those costumes! Ringer and Martins (Gold und Silber Walzer) this is really my least favorite section but Ringer is a good actress and does her best, as does Martins; and Nichols and Askegard (Der Rosenkavalier). I love the waltz from Der Rosenkavalier, and, I know it’s cheesy, but I also love what Balanchine does with it; he gets it right. How can you not feel a thrill when that big music comes on and the chandelier lights up and all those people come waltzing onto the stage? There’s something poignant and wonderful about it.

Before Vienna Waltzes was Symphony in C. This was the third Symphony in C I saw this season (the others were on May 13 and June 3). The grade-A+ cast was Somogyi and Stafford; Whelan and Askegard; Hyltin and De Luz; Stafford and Evans. Somogyi and Stafford were quite wonderful in the first section (strong and authoritative, yet also lyrical, if that's possible here), as were the corps (as they usually are) and the soloists, Reichlin and Angle, Hanson and Veyette. In the second movement, I miss Amanda Edge and Pauline Golbin, whom I had gotten used to seeing in the demi-soloist parts. Amanda Edge had been my favorite corps girl; she was always on the music, she was always working hard to do it right. It seemed to me that she was not necessarily in possession of some of the more natural gifts that some of her colleagues may have had, and that she had to work very hard to overcome some things. Yet she did a good job with everything I saw her dance.

Well, no offense to today’s cast, but with Whelan on the stage, who really was looking at the demi-soloists anyway? I have seen Wendy Whelan walking on Broadway, so I know for a fact that her feet do actually touch the ground, but if I had only seen her on the stage I would think that there existed about an eighth of an inch of space between her feet and the ground at all times. It is really quite an amazing illusion, and I don’t think I have seen anyone, not even Makarova, move that way. In a company of people who have incredible control over their bodies, her powers of control are prodigious, beyond words almost. And to think she must work like a fiend to achieve that quality of movement that is just on a plane beyond everyone—and these are excellent dancers—beyond everyone else.

From the fourth ring, what is most evident is her artistry (and of course the beautiful patterns of the choreography); from this third ring view, in addition to the artistry I was able to see up close what strength is required for this role: for the penchée where she touches her head to her knee (somehow she never makes it look vulgar), and for those promenades (she may also have been fatigued; it’s a long season). But it is also all the details that go into this performance: a simple tendu, the way the foot is placed on pointe; each movement—each one without exception—is executed with the greatest care: each is a thing of beauty; a work of art. And she does this consistently! I recently saw the movie about the company’s Russia visit a few years ago, which shows clips of Whelan dancing two of the great ballets that are not being done this season, Agon and Symphony in Three Movements. I was saying to a friend that I have only seen two dancers, Astaire and Baryshnikov, who, for me, have the technique and artistry, and I don’t know what else it takes, to make a strong an impact on the viewer over the celluloid barrier. But to see Whelan and Soto doing the Agon pas de deux in this film is as close an experience to seeing it in the theater that you can have; the intensity is that strong. That is good to know, that a lot of what Whelan has can be captured and revisited on film; and I hope her performance in this adagio (as well as lots of other things) has been filmed. But to see her dance it—no, to see her dance—in the theater is a thrill and a privilege.

If you thought that nothing else was good after that, you would be mistaken—Hyltin, replacing Fairchild, and De Luz, in the allegro were charming and exuberant. Both of them are terrific here. Abi Stafford enters in the fourth movement and beautifully executes all this hard stuff but no one applauds her because she (thankfully) doesn’t milk the crowd—but she should know that she is appreciated. Even though the performance ended with Vienna Waltzes, it is this ballet that I want to hold in my memory, until I get to see them do it again.

New York City Ballet, June 21 and 22, 2006

New York City Ballet
New York State Theater
June 21 and June 22, 2006

Russian Seasons
In Memory Of…
Western Symphony
(June 21)

Slice to Sharp
The Cage
Andantino
Western Symphony
(June 22)

Two new ballets on these programs and yet the most exciting piece each night was Western Symphony, of all things. It seems crazy—when I think of Western Symphony I think kitschy tunes and kitschier costumes, I’ve seen it before—and yet the choreography is not at all kitsch; it is serious stuff, and here were two of the freshest performances, showing the ballet to be sparkling, witty, utterly charming, and first-rate entertainment. The Wednesday performance, with Somogyi and Martins, Fairchild and Hendrickson, and Kowrowsky and Woetzel, was excellent; it hit all the right notes, and was danced to the hilt by all, but particularly Woetzel and Kowroski. The Thursday performance, with Ringer and Martins, Hyltin and Evans, and Reichlin and Askegard, was slightly less sparkling, but well done nonetheless. It was instructive to compare Fairchild and Hyltin in the “ballerina/lady of the evening” role; Fairchild has really matured over the past year, and has become a very secure dancer. Hyltin was making her debut in the role. She is a very good dancer, but she struggled a bit; to see a young, very good dancer struggling with a role, both technically and artistically, is a good reminder of how hard all this is. She will have it all down by next year. Albert Evans tends to play up the pimp aspect of this role, but he pulls it off well without being offensive. Woetzel is just great with all those tricky leaps, and he can really carry the bravura aspects of the role, and Kowroski matched him very well. Reichlin is also very good here. The ending, with 30 people doing very fast pirouettes from fifth position as the curtain comes down, is just brilliant. [A note: Thursday night my view was not from the fourth ring, but from the second ring, first row; and it was most excellent.]

More later—particularly about the new ballets.

New York City Ballet, June 10, 2006

New York City Ballet
New York State Theater
June 10, 2006

Donizetti Variations
The Cage
Duo Concertant
Episodes

I had another chance to try and get at Episodes last night. This time I was aware of how Balanchine moves the four couples in Symphony around the stage—the way he sets them (when the ballet begins the main couple that is downstage is not on the same line as the couple that is upstage—and likewise the two couples on the right and left are not on the same line) so that even though he’s working with even numbers, the couples are misaligned at the same time that he presents them in neat pairs. I was also more aware of how the shifting weight motif is carried throughout the entire ballet, from Symphony to the shaking walks in spotlight in Five Pieces, to the pas de deux in Concerto, and then is expanded from the individual to the groupings in the Bach. In some ways the simplicity of the movements—stepping, walking—pretty much informs the esthetic of “modern dance”; somehow when Balanchine does this he transforms it into ballet.

Five Pieces, which I never really understood, looked more interesting to me than usual, maybe because I was paying more attention and was looking beyond its surface movements (the dancers were the same as last week, Reichlin and Fowler). I think understanding the weight shifting helped, because then the entrances of the dancers on the diagonal in the spotlights doing their jagged walks made more sense when considered in the broader context. The spotlight can’t help but dramatize and focus on the concept of “performance,” as if they were performing a nightclub act (but in Paris).

I am not sure why the movements of the Concerto (Somogyi and Evans) stay in my head the least, but I remembered the visual joke with the girls just before they leave the stage before the pas de deux.—the beginning of which is so interesting and I still haven’t got all of it. She starts on pointe and then he manipulates her stance; they face one another with their arms straight out in that kind of Nijinsky Faun pose, and then he is facing backward and opens up the pose by stepping outward to the left, so that they form a kind of open can opener (jacknife?). And they get into that cantilevered pose (exploration of weight again). The third section borrows much from Four Temperaments Phlegmatic, which I think last week Evans (who dances that, too) was stressing too much; this week he made less of the man poking his way out of the chain of women, perhaps realizing that while the movements were pretty similar, the ballets are pretty different.

I don’t think I have anything to add to the Bach; it was performed very well.

A note on Duo Concertant another time.

The Donizetti was terrifically danced by the corps. The way it is conceived, it is almost as if there are two different ballets going on. When the male lead (Veyette) comes out to dance and the corps girls are arrayed in diagonals, they barely acknowledge him, and continue doing their own thing until the very end, when they use him as a prop. The corps are in their own opera, and the leads are in their own. They’re on the same stage, but they rarely intersect. I also love how the celeste music is given to the three men before it gets turned over to the female lead (Borree).

New York City Ballet, June 3, 2006

New York City Ballet
New York State Theater
June 3, 2006

Concerto Barocco
Episodes
Symphony in C

This was the second time I saw Concerto Barocco this season. This cast was Weese and Rutherford, both pretty good. They responded well to one another for the most part, and Weese did well in the pas de deux. I usually use those big scissor-swiping lifts (with Whelan as the model—I haven’t seen anyone do them with the sweep and phrasing and expansion of movement with which she does them) as one standard for judging how well they’re doing, and while Weese can’t do them that way (in addition to simply having a different physique, it is also that her performing personality tends to be somewhat inward and constrained) she did convey the beauty of the step and at least followed through with the movement. The movement requires that the dancer communicate a contradictory lightness and gravitas at the same time—I appreciate the difficulty —but I still want to see that the dancer at least understands and is aiming for that expressiveness. The corps were excellent—every single one of them. Albert Evans is always a good presence, even though he’s mostly wasted here as the porteur.

For all the times I’ve seen Concerto Barocco, I still haven’t really gotten a handle on it, as I still haven’t with most Balanchine, which is why I suppose I keep going back to see it again and again. For all I see I still miss so much. This time I noticed that in the first movement after part of the girls go around to upper audience left and take their places on the diagonal, when the second set comes around from audience right, before setting themselves in position behind the first group they do a little skip. It’s indicative of the way the choreography contains these small sometimes barely noticeable elements of uniqueness within the greater fabric; somewhat like a couteur garment, in which the overall design of a piece of clothing can contain small, beautifully crafted touches that are perhaps not prominent but nonetheless contribute to the perception of the whole as a lovingly and finely crafted work of art; and it seems as if this is one of the ways in which the choreography works and part of what makes it is so rich and endlessly watchable. Another aspect of this is the use or not of repetition; it may be that sometimes I don’t notice something because he can use movement so judiciously. While Balanchine didn’t hesitate to repeat steps or gestures (both within a piece as well as in his collected choreographies) there is often some wonderful thing that only occurs once—I think primarily of that big jump in the last movement of Stravinsky Violin Concerto—it’s the one in the Paul Kolnik photograph—where the entire company performs this movement, a spontaneous burst of exhilaration, so fantastic you’d think he’d have them do it again, but no—that’s it; if you blinked you’ve missed it. In fact, it was the photograph that caused me to look for it, because I hadn’t recalled it; the next time I saw the ballet I watched carefully and saw the movement, then kept looking to see whether he would repeat it and it was only then that I realized it only happened once. What luxury, to only need to use something so good only once.

The second ballet was Episodes—another one that I have only been seeing in the past few years and feel the need to see again and again. This ballet has been the cause of my obsession with that Bach ricercar. My comments about the ballet will be mostly inadequate because I understand so little of the music and of Balanchine’s articulation of it. Although I did notice a few more things this time. The first section Symphony was performed by A. Stafford and Neal. The last time I saw this ballet I was sitting in the orchestra, so I was able to see the dancing very close; from that perspective you can see that the focus is on the very deliberate movements by each couple; the weight shifting, the tensions created and tested and examined by each (I’ll use the term again) deliberate movement. I suppose these are terms that similarly describe the Agon pas de deux (as others, who have been watching these pieces longer than I have, have described that piece). It may seem odd that it is this first section that seems to want a comparison with the Agon (1957) pas de deux, more even than the other pas de deux in Episodes (1959). But it seems to me to be a different exploration of tension and weight. First of all there is not just one couple, so the viewer’s focus shifts among the various couples and groupings, and obviously the music is not Stravinsky, and less (agonizingly) intense than the Agon pas de deux. The choreography for the Symphony section maintains a quality of aloofness that is most likely in the music itself, Balanchine is able to reflect that. It is as if the dancers in this first section are in a laboratory, all working on the same problem but not necessarily concerned with solving it together (but definitely concerned with solving it). Step deliberately test the distribution of weight. Do it again.

The Five Pieces section was Reichlin and Fowler. I always wondered whether Balanchine had been looking at Miro when he made this section. The Concerto was Whelan and Evans. Balanchine also seems to cut the dryness of this music with humor, particularly with some of the corps’ movements, although it is less obvious than in the Five Pieces. I need to see it again. But it was fantastic.

Mearns did the Ricercata. She looks to be very promising and did an excellent job in this piece, of which, again, I am still trying to comprehend its architecture. It is as strong and beautiful and monumental as a cathedral; I am in awe of it. It is easier to see the construction from the fourth ring but the impact of seeing it from the orchestra is greater, I think, because the monumentality of the cathedral strikes your line of vision much more acutely from that perspective—looking up—than from the fourth ring, where you are looking down. For some reason the first movements of the girls in the back, who have been standing still while the first voices are being expressed—when they begin to move downstage in a line, almost single handedly articulate a depth that only continues to build throughout, leading to the transcendence of the final notes and gesture that manages to convey both majesty and humility. [When I attended one of those Guild lectures a couple of years ago, Melissa Hayden asked what had happened to the ending of Episodes—apparently what they do now isn’t what she had remembered, and she didn’t much like it.] Again the choreography offers a constant tension of the contradictory, of opposites working in tandem.

Last was Symphony in C, which got an exhilarating performance. This young dancer Tiler Peck now does the fourth movement, and I don’t think I had yet seen anyone make anything of that role as well as she does. I never thought it was very interesting before. I look forward to seeing her do more. The two Staffords were excellent in the first section, he very elegant and she coolly authoritative, yet human; Hyltin and Carmena were terrific in the prancing pony section. Balanchine was such a great showman; he was always aware, and seemingly not ashamed to admit that, although he was constantly challenging his audience, the name of the game was entertainment. The last section—with every new group that comes on moving doing harder things faster, is just delightful. And no one can dance it like they do.