9 replies to this topic

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Annabelle Lyonis dead at ninety-five.

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Ms. Lyon joined the American Ballet, George Balanchine’s first American company, in 1935 and also appeared with Ballet Caravan, a troupe organized by Lincoln Kirstein in 1936 to promote American choreography.

In 1939 she became a charter member of Ballet Theater (now American Ballet Theater). On Jan. 12, 1940, partnered by Anton Dolin, she was the first ballerina in that company to dance the title role of “Giselle.”

[dirac]

Ballet B.C. prepares a new work.

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Walter Matteini’s piece, called Parole Sospese (Words Suspended), is beautiful yet subtly discombobulating. As Ballet B.C. artistic director Emily Molnar describes it earlier in the day, “It’s like looking through a looking glass; you don’t know what’s going on at first. It’s like he builds small worlds inside of other worlds.”

The point is that it’s something new by someone who’s never choreographed in North America before. It’s also a leap of faith for the company—something its members are getting accustomed to. Bringing a rising Euro-dance artist over here to create a new work is a bold move. But it’s a task Molnar is getting comfortable with as this season, her third at the helm of the company, prepares to open.

[dirac]

A review of American Ballet Theatre by Alastair Macaulay in The New York Times.

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Almost everywhere the texture of ballet-specialist bodies changes not just the character of the movement (making it sleeker, svelter, less punchy) but even the rhythm and phrasing (with more legato but less drive). Still, when Julie Kent in the fifth duet alternates a straight downward-diagonal, toe-to-finger ballet line (arabesque penchée croisée) with a rippling current that passes through horizontally S-curved arms, you feel the fun of Cunningham’s adventure.   

[dirac]

Diablo Balletkicks off its eighteenth season.

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Onebig-name choreographer: San Francisco’s Val Caniparoli. Two live musicians: cellists Daniel Reiter and Paul Rhodes. Three performances: Nov. 18 and 19. Four hours of rehearsal every day to bring these experienced professionals to peak form. One, two, three, four — like a dancer counting to keep time.

But it’s the five minutes watching guest choreographer Dominic Walsh (see video interview) rehearse the dancers that are golden, erasing all thought of numbers.

[dirac]

A review of Alberta Ballet's"Love Lies Bleeding" by Dana Glassman in The National Post.

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When staging a show about this notorious diva, one has no choice but to go big. And Grand-Maître did just that. The result is a pricy production (total tab topped $1.1-million) that would look right at home on Broadway or any hotel on the Vegas strip. It’s over-the-top, outrageous with never a dull moment.

Credit for this visual stunner goes not just to Grand-Maître but also to Martine Bertrand for creating a sea of glamorous costumes and Adam Larsen for a mesmerizing video design. A massive sloped mirror projects old news footage of Elton throughout his career, intermixed with artsy images that keep the audience entertained during the many smooth transitions between numbers.

Carly Maga's reviewfor Torontoist.

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At times Love Lies Bleeding struck a balance between the traditional and the contemporary, as the chorus created images of satellites hurtling through space with the red lights on their costumes, or as Mark Wax, Anthony Pina, and Blair Puente pulled off their dance to “Believe” in sky-high stilettos as The Drags. The use of props and over-the-top costumes made for an impressive aesthetic perfect for the glitz and glam of Elton John and certainly pleased the crowd. On the flip side, they overpowered the beautiful work of Hattori and the chorus members, Grand-Maître’s intriguing blend of dance styles, even John and Taupin’s music itself

[dirac]

A brief BBC story on Craig Hassall's departure from the English National Ballet.

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Hassall has worked for the ENB since 2005. He was previously deputy general manager at the Sydney Theatre Company.
In a statement, the ENB said the Australian had "overseen its most successful years to date".

[dirac]

A review of ABTby Apollinaire Scherr in The Financial Times.

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But it was not Sinatra Suite that made me think of Morris; it was the season premiere. New York’s two big ballet companies do not cultivate young choreographers; they simply throw them before the public. This season the gladiator is one Demis Volpi, aged 25, a dancer at the Stuttgart. The usual signs of inexperience pockmarked his Private Light: too many ideas and little to bridge them. But what drove the dance past incompetence into the realm of the unendurable was the connections we were left to make.

[dirac]

A review of the Royal Balletin 'Manon' by Sarah Crompton in The Telegraph.

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On her debut, Cuthbertson makes her mark. This is a wonderfully detailed performance, a carefully charted journey from girlish tease to enraptured lover to hard-bitten courtesan and finally to heart-broken and dying waif. She makes you so conscious of Manon’s love of luxury, her longing for the good life, that you understand her rash decisions even if you don’t sympathise with them. Her dancing is sumptuous but careful; there is a tiny bit of abandon lacking.

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A review of Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo by Ruth Eshel for Haaretz.

.....While the Trockadero ballerinas skillfully perform the intricacies of the choreography, the danseur noble - the noble, male dancer, as the ballerina's partner is called - stays in one place and throughout the entire dance does a basic jump up and down, changing feet in the air - changement - and serves as an elevator to lift the ballerina, as though she were a sack of potatoes, and to sit her on his shoulders.

Throughout the entire performance the dancers look amused. Their smiles are open-mouthed and brightly wide-eyed with the naughty winks of knowing starlets. This is the joy of men dressed up to dance like girls, and every movement shouts, "We are better than the girls."

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A review of the Royal Ballet in "Manon" by Louise Levene in The Telegraph.

Des Grieux demands intelligent playing, 24-carat technique and the strength of a fork-lift truck. Add Polunin’s ardour, charisma and remarkable physical beauty and it’s all but impossible to look elsewhere. Disdain and self-loathing were palpable in every turn of his head in the brothel scene, and the ensuing solos were the incarnation of a pure soul brought low by passion.