Ari

I saw Friday night's performance, and it was interesting to see ABT's "take" on a ballet I saw danced by its original company, the Royal, last November. On the whole I thought ABT did extremely well -- better, in some respects, than the Royal. (For instance, Carmen Corella managed to make Diana forceful without seeming shrewish, which neither RB Diana had, and Gillian Murphy's technique and reading of the scene in Orion's cave were much better than either Darcey Bussell's or Marianela Nunez's.) On the other hand, I preferred both RB Eroses (Martin Harvey and Joshua Tuifua) to Herman Cornejo, who never looked like a statue. (In London, I was convinced that the Eroses were props at both performances, even after they began to move -- I thought they'd sneakily replaced the prop with the dancer when I wasn't looking .)

Sylvia is a role that makes unaccustomed demands on today's ballerinas. It doesn't call for acting in the sense that, say, Manon does. It doesn't need mime in the way that, for instance, Swanilda needs mime. And it's not a pure dance role. It calls for the ballerina to be herself, but that self has to be an interesting and multi-faceted woman, and that is what the present generation of ballerinas has not be raised to be. Murphy worked hard, but at this point in her career she lacks the stage experience to hold and keep the audience's attention independent of the choreography. Her best scene was the one in Orion's cave. Unlike Bussell and Nunez, she showed sorrow and grief for what had happened and a wiliness in getting the better of her captor. Murphy, for all her thinnness and straight up-and-down classicism, has a full bust and round hips, and in this scene she used them to project a sensuality and womanliness that I hope will carry over to her other roles. She showed signs here of being the fascinating creature that Sylvia ought to be.

Marcelo Gomes played Orion less brutishly than his RB counterparts, with a hint of Raymonda's Abderakhman's dangerous appeal. I'm not sure how Ashton would have liked this, but it sure was more fun than a one-note, fire-breathing heavy.

Unlike Michael, I didn't think the corps looked messy at all. In fact I was thinking how much better they looked than they had in Washington.

Sylvia is the only Ashton ballet I know of that contains hints of homoeroticism. I'm thinking of the treatment of Eros and the scene of Endymion being worshipped by Diana -- I doubt that a straight man would have treated them in this way.

Ashton brings out the best in ABT. He tames the beast in them. If only they were bringing this to Washington next year instead of yet another week of R&J.

This is the photo Oberon referred to:

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/06/07/arts/dance/07boal.html

Just a reminder . . . clicking on the Amazon link in the upper right-hand corner of this page will give Ballettalk a portion of the profits of any Amazon purchase.

The British critic Norman Lebrecht is always interesting, even when he's off base. In today's Scotsman, he argues that the Broadway musical, which by general agreement has been dead for some time, is undergoing a rebirth.

The resurgence of the musical as a creative form is no mere coincidence. Seeing several hits in close succession suggests a chain reaction, a common attitude. The Producers introduced a genre of self-mockery in which the action halts momentarily to reflect sourly upon itself. This hiatus device appeared at the NT as the so-called Jerry Springer Moment, and now, in Billy Elliot, the episodes at the start of each act when the audience is exposed to the legend of coalmining without the requirement of empathy that came with Daldry’s film.

The music in each of these shows amplifies this element of separation, licensing us to stand apart from what we are seeing and enter a third dimension where each of us can individually decide whether to take the plot literally or sardonically, whether to take offence or giggle. This degree of Ironic Detachment is the making of the post-modern hit musical.

It's a matter of debate as to whether embracing a tone of ironic detachment is enough to ensure new life to the musical as a form. But Lebrecht doesn't stop there. He goes on to argue that the seeds of this happy development can be found, in its earliest form, in Guys and Dolls, which opened in 1950.

Now, I love Guys and Dolls as much as Lebrecht, but when he writes that "Runyon sanitised and humanised his petty hoods, Loesser disinvested them of character, building his musical around situation alone," I have to wonder what productions he's been seeing. While I've never read the Damon Runyon stories on which the show is based, I would say that it was Loesser, not Runyon, who "sanitised and humanised" the characters, and that this was something the musical as a form was notorious for doing. I have no problem with it, since it helped produce glorious shows, but for Lebrecht to rewrite history to support his thesis is going a bit far.

Anyone want to comment on this?

The National Critics Conference, which prompted the article in the LA Times that kfw cited above, is over. And it's stimulated more discussion of the role of critics in today's society:

• Christopher Reynolds in the LA Times

  Everybody's a critic.
  No, really. About 400 reviewers of art, dance, music and theater have descended upon Los Angeles for the National Critics Conference. This is the first time anybody in this country has tried to unite so many reviewers from so many disciplines, and nobody's exactly sure what will happen.
  Jansen-Brown, who came from San Antonio, writes about theater. Van Vlasselaer, who came from Ottawa, reviews music. Deborah Jowitt, exploring one of the Getty patios with her shawl pulled tight in the evening mist, has been reviewing dance for the Village Voice since the '60s.
  The idea, as with most conventions, is to raise everyone's professional game through speeches by luminaries, provocative panels (is it wrong for critics to moonlight as curators?) and seminars on brass-tacks issues from writing mechanics to job-seeking strategies.
  The added wrinkle is an emphasis on interdisciplinary exploration — ideas the critics will kick around in meeting rooms at the Omni Hotel and elsewhere through Sunday, with side trips day and night to museums, galleries and theaters and concert halls.

• Dominic P. Papatola in the St. Paul Pioneer Press

  Any parent will tell you that no child follows the rules all the time, and only a fool of a parent — or an idiot of a critic — would expect slavish obedience. Both make mistakes: They're too strict, or they underestimate the maturity or the ability of their charges. Really good parents and really good critics are humble enough to admit those mistakes but don't allow the occasional misstep to obscure their larger responsibility: Kids and audiences must learn the rules before they can learn to break them.
  Does all this smack of paternalism? Well, yes, but where would we be without authority? I'm much more likely to defer to my physician's opinion of my cholesterol level over my own, and I'd hope he'd treat my opinion of the new show at the Jungle Theater the same way. We're free to challenge each other's expertise and seek second opinions, but it's folly to ignore the other's expertise.

• Chris Jones in the Chicago Tribune

  Excellent criticism involves contextualizing. People don't need only to know if "Desperate Housewives" is worth watching -- they need to know what it means, what the show says about America at this precise moment in time. There's no diminishment in the public appetite for explanation -- the cultural world out there only gets ever more bewildering.
  Actually, the death of the critic is greatly exaggerated -- there still are publications that showcase reviews and readers who seek them out, read them, think about them and even act upon them.

However at one point during, I guess the ‘finale section’ of the ballet, he almost missed his entrance and so came sprinting out on to the stage, and just made it in the knick of time to start the steps. He did this of course beautifully *hehe*.

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That moment is part of the ballet, Stanley. It's in the choreography.

A couple of people have said that Bouder is too small for Emeralds, but the role she is dancing was made on Violette Verdy, who was quite small -- probably smaller than Bouder. I wonder if those who found Bouder too short would explain why they thought a taller dancer was called for.

Contents:

Marc Haegeman, A Conversation with Alexei Ratmansky, AD of the Bolshoi Ballet

Leigh Witchel, Notes on Merrill Ashley Coaching Ballo della Regina

Carol Pardo, The NYCB's Winter Season

Mary Cargill, Golden Mean: The Paul Taylor Dance Company at Fifty

Mary Cargill, An Interview with Francisco Graciano & A Look at the Taylor 2 Company

Gay Morris, New York Report: The Martha Grahm Dance Co. and Matthew Bourne's A Play Without Words

Jane Simpson, London Report: Richard Alston, Henri Oguike & the Royal Ballet

Rita Felciano, Bay Area Report: San Francisco Ballet, Chitresh Dance Co., Circo Zero & Dance Brigade, Hip Hop Dance Fest, Joanna Haigood, Ballet San Jose Silicon Valley, Robert Moses' Kin, and Masters of Kathakali

Interesting topic, Marga. Thanks for starting it.

I think there's little doubt that most Russian dancers and teachers consider their tradition to be not only superior to all others, but the Only True Classical Style. But they're not the only ones who have felt this way about themselves. Back in the days when the Royal Ballet was the Royal Ballet, many of its supporters felt that the company was single-handedly preserving the pure classical style. I don't believe the Danes ever felt this way -- those who are more familiar with them, please correct me if I'm wrong -- and I don't know about the French.

The Russians claim that their style is directly descended from the golden age of Petipa, but in fact it has undergone some major changes since then. (Reference here our recent discussion as to whether Vaganova's system simply codified the Petipa-era style or departed from it.) Who can blame them for wanting to be proud of their achievement? But history has shown that ballet is constantly developing. It isn't possible to dance, for instance, Balanchine's ballets -- dance them properly -- with nothing but pre-Balanchine training. And Ashton's ballets were built on a foundation of Cecchetti training.

It may or may not be true that Russian training (is this synonymous with Vaganova, or is there a school of non-Vaganova Russian training?) is the best preparation for dancing the Russian classics. But no company does nothing but that. In addition to performing the work of 20th century choreographers like Balanchine and Ashton, most companies regularly produce new ballets. And today's choreographers, like Jorma Elo (who is cited in the Globe article as a choreographer who is working with the BB), make demands on dancers that Russian training doesn't envision.

So I guess what I'm saying is that, from a practical standpoint, reliance on nothing but Russian training is impractical.

Injuries are, sadly, an ever-present reality in a dancer's life. It's rare for a dancer to be 100% healthy. I've heard dancers say that if they wake up in the morning feeling completely well, something's wrong!

I think it's interesting for us as audience members to understand more about this. Those who know, please chime in. Is there, as fandeballet asked, a particular kind of injury that is the worst of all, or does it depend on the dancer?

Regarding weight lifting, I remember reading in Peter Martins's autobiography that he embarked on a course of weight lifting as a very young corps member when his partner complained (he used a stronger word ) that he couldn't lift and support her properly.

The viability of having an AD and a Principal Choreographer who works mainly for the company will be the extent to which the vision of these two people mesh. There will probably always be conflicts between them as to how many company resources can be devoted to the PC -- choreographers, naturally, will want as much as they can get, and ADs have to think about the whole picture. But if they both have the same vision for the company, if their esthetic is harmonious, then there's hope. The relationship between Ninette de Valois and Frederick Ashton is an example of a successful collaboration.

Thanks for the explanation, Art. I guess it's another example of technology replacing humans. I suppose the argument could be made that since many if not most ballet companies now perform to taped music, this is not much worse, but the alarm bells sound when a company like ABT that has always used a live orchestra considers it. It's a relief to know that that's not in the cards, at least for three more years at the Met.

It's never too late to tell us about a performance, Memo! The more views, the greater variety of opinions, the merrier.

Thanks for the post, and please hang around here more often!

Before anyone rushes out to buy these DVDs/videos, they should remember that they will probably not be playable on U.S. machines. Unless the DVD is specifically coded "All Regions," you will need a DVD player that can play Japanese DVDs. A multiregion DVD player with an NTSC/PAL adapter will be able to play a DVD coded for Japan. With videocassettes, the situation is even less flexible, so unless you have both a PAL VCR and TV (or get the tape professionally converted to NTSC), you're out of luck.

I saw Hecuba on Saturday night at the Kennedy Center. Never having seen the play before, or even read it, I'm at something of a disadvantage in evaluating the strength of this production and Redgrave's performance. Still, you didn't have to be a scholar of Greek drama to notice the very pointed contemporary emphasis of this production. Tony Harrison (who bills himself in the program as "Britain's leading theatre and film poet") has jazzed up Euripides not only with questionable vernacular (i.e., "croak" for "die") but with repeated references to the victorious "coalition" forces. In case we still don't get it, some of the tents and supply containers of Es Devlin's striking set have labels like "UK 389794" and "US Lot 892179."

Redgrave's approach to the title character was to make her revenge, usually seen as an act of madness or out-of-control venom, into a calm, deliberate decision. This could be a justifiable artistic choice if the tone of the play didn't militate against it. Everyone onstage is escalating into hysterics while Redgrave stands there quietly with a sly, smug smile on her face. It didn't work for me. I've seen her do luminous theater work before, so I can only attribute her lack of impact to her approach. The highlight of the evening was Alan Dobie's long speech about the death of Hecuba's daughter.

Peter Marks, the Washington Post's drama critic, hasn't reviewed the production yet, but he has an interview with Redgrave in today's paper.

fandeballet's report has been confirmed by a story in today's Daily News.

I'm dying to know what a "virtual orchestra machine" is.

One reason that ballet training in Europe was attractive to many parents is that in some countries (Russia and Denmark certainly, I'm not sure about France), if a child was accepted into the state ballet school, his or her education was free. That lifted a substantial burden off the shoulders of the parents, especially if they had several children to educate.

That was why Balanchine wound up at the Maryinsky. His mother took him and his sister to Petersburg in an attempt to get Georgi into the Naval Academy (another state school that would have provided him with a free education) and Tamara into the Maryinsky. They were too late for the Naval Academy, and Tamara didn't get into the ballet school, but someone casually suggested that Georgi audition. He was accepted, and the rest, as they say . . .

What is your source for this, fandeballet? We don't want to spread rumors.

Come to think of it, who made the artistic hiring & repetoire decisions at NYCB, did Kirstein have a hand in that as much as Robbins?  Did a triumvirate decide on promotions or was it Balanchine working more or less alone?

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Kirstein had no input into artistic decision-making at NYCB. He emphasized that himself in his book Thirty Years [of NYCB], saying that in the course of their association he never once suggested

either a morsel of music, or the casting of a particular dancer in a ballet, new or old.  I have never attempted to arrange scheduling of repertory or tried a project or limited the cost of any new work. . . . I've never voiced disagreement over individual dancers, their arrival, presence, or departure.  While I have admired a few contemporary painters or sculptors, I have never proposed any as collaborators after Pavel Tchelitchev's abdication from the theater.

Just a reminder: although we understand that this announcement has taken everyone by surprise and that speculation as to what motivated it is a natural human response , we cannot allow posters to do that here. Feel free to comment on Kudelka's achievements as AD and to suggest candidates whom you feel would make good replacements, but please stop short of saying that something is going to happen. We won't know that until it does.

I don't see anything significant about these changes. Russell and Stowell announced their decision over a year ago after many years of service, and ENB has had a number of ADs over the years. Kudelka's resignation is the only real surprise.

There will probably be an interim director until the Board can find a permanent one. Of course, Interim Directors have gone on to become permanent in other companies -- Roy Kaiser in Pennsylvania and Monica Mason at the Royal.

Moderation note: I edited Carol's post to remove Sylvia's, which was quoted in its entirety. In order to reply to a post without quoting the previous one, click the ADD REPLY button, not the "REPLY button.

No Boal in Baiser de la Fée????

On the thread Standing seats?, Richard53dog wrote,

The NYST used to be very lax. (I'm talking more than 30 years ago) I used to slip into the company box, which is at the back of the orchestra level.

Once, very brazenly, I took a chair and put it at the end of one of the rows of the orchestra section. No one challenged me.

Ah, that opened the floodgates of memory . . .

The State Theater has, or had (I think they've closed them off now, those still living there will know) long corridors on the sides of each ring with doors at either end. One door was at the entrance to the seats on either side of the ring, and the other was all the way down at the extreme end of the curve. Some of us used to sneak into the second ring right corridor (we liked the second ring, but I don't remember why we favored the right) when the ushers weren't looking, walk down to the other end, sit patiently inside on the carpeted steps until the house lights went down and the music began, then quietly open the door and take seats along the sides of the ring. It worked for a while until one usher got wise to us and surprised us just before the curtain went up, and we scattered like a flock of pigeons caught in flagrante delicto. :blush:

I used to sit in the company boxes in the back of the orchestra, too. The view wasn't too good, though.

At the Met, I learned the art of scrounging tickets. My mentor was a woman who spent most of her evenings at concerts, the opera, and, less often, the ballet, and who was the Queen of Comps (complimentary tickets). She taught me that when theaters paper the house, they always do so in pairs, and since they often release the tickets at the last minute, the people on the comp lists often don't have the time to find someone to accompany them. So she instructed me on how to approach likely-looking candidates (identifying them was an art form in itself) and asking them if they had an extra ticket. I managed to get quite a few freebies that way, and my teacher was proud of me. (She later got married and moved to Houston. I don't know if she continued practice her arts on Texan venues or whether her financial condition took a turn for the better and rendered that unnecessary.)

So what are your stories? C'mon, I know you have some . . .