Ari

Well, Liebeslieder Walzer works very well, but this is also a ballet of discrete pieces yoked together (and Brahms wrote the songs to be performed together). Who Cares is another ballet that is a series of solos and duets with some ensemble work at the beginning and end. The important thing about both of these ballets, however, is that they are very solidly constructed. That may be what many other song ballets lack. With Western Symphony and Stars & Stripes, Balanchine hired a composer (Hershy Kay) to create new pieces of music incorporating songs and band numbers — and both ballets use a corps. I think this latter approach offers choreographers a wider range, and the ability to create dances for more than one or two people. But it's time-consuming and expensive, so it hasn't become popular.

Ideally s/he should, Alexandra, but the job of AD is so huge nowadays, and it's so hard to find people who can do every aspect of it, that it might be that someone who can fulfill the other requirements just isn't able to stage a narrative work effectively. You can look at a ballet and be able to tell that something is missing, but may not have the theatrical skills to be able to fix it. This wasn't the case in the Old Days because a) narrative works were the backbone of the repertory and anyone who got to be artistic director couldn't help but develop theatrical know-how, and B) ADs didn't have the burden of fundraising, public relations, and myriad other duties that today's directors do. These days, unfortunately, you're unlikely to be chosen as AD unless you can schmooze. That takes priority over theatrical savvy.

The idea of having directors for ballets — at least for narrative ones — occurred to me a couple of years ago when I watched the Royal do Ashton's Fille. I believe it had returned to the rep after years of retirement. At the end of the ballet there's a moment when the door of Lise's room opens to reveal Lise and Colas in an embrace, and the Widow Simone falls down the stairs in shock. It's a funny moment, but at the performance I saw it didn't work, and didn't get much laughter. The timing was off, or something. It occurred to me then that this was the sort of thing that any competent stage director could have fixed. (Of course, it could also simply have been a question of not enough rehearsal.) But I think Alexandra's point about a director's having a sense of the ballet as a whole, rather than the mechanics of putting separately rehearsed elements together, is a good one, especially in an era in which narrative ballets don't come as naturally to dancers and ballet masters as they used to. You can be a good AD (or ballet master or whoever is responsible for getting the work onstage) and not be gifted with theatrical instincts.

We've already done a poll on ballerinas you've never seen, but what about the men? Someone suggested a poll on great male dancers you've never seen. The trouble is, there are too many of them to fit into a poll format, and how do you put Nijinsky and Baryshnikov in the same poll? Everyone would have liked to see Nijinsky, and many have seen Baryshnikov. So, how about restricting the poll to a certain place and time? The 1940s, 50s, and 60s were a golden age for ballet lovers living in or near New York City. You could see just about every major company, and lots of smaller ones. And those companies had some pretty incredible dancers. Which of the following dancers would you most like to have seen? (You can vote even if you saw some of them.) The poll format limits us to six choices, but if we left out some you'd like to have seen, by all means mention them.

Agree heartily about Von Aroldingen, but casting Ashley was done, I think, precisely because she wasn't suited to the roles. Balanchine put her in a number of roles like this (Swan Lake was another) in order to develop qualities that she lacked or needed to improve on: adagio, port de bras, etc.

I adored Makarova, but I found her attitude towards music to be typically Kirovian: she expected the conductor to follow her. (And she expected the same thing of her partners. )

Much as I'd like many of these items for myself, I hope that some generous and civic-minded person will buy the collection for libraries like the one at Lincoln Center — somewhere where anyone can go in and look at them.

He didn't specify a particular fairy, Manhattnik. He just said that with the Royal, she'd be one of the fairies. (He wasn't implying that she was a bad Aurora, just that the fairies should be principals.)

I've been thinking about this Royal practice, too, and I remember a diehard RB fan once criticizing ABT's Beauty because it cast soloists in the roles. (He wanted to see Gelsey Kirkland as a fairy! Didn't say who would be dancing Aurora.) But, two things:1) Isn't this just an RB tradition? The Kirov casts mostly soloists as the fairies. Of course I don't know how it used to be in their Old Days. What were the ranks of Petipa's original fairies? 2) Are principals really better than soloists in these variations, or does our sense of superiority come from the fact that they bear the rank of Principal? It may be that in the Good Old Days, it was only the principals who had the necessary technique. That's not true today. (And yes, I know that in addition to Technique, there's Style.) This is off the topic of this thread, I know, but it's an interesting subject.

Kay — I think you're right about Houston being the last male dancer to have worked with Balanchine . . . unless you count Peter Boal, who was of course rehearsed by Balanchine for the Nutcracker Prince.

While browsing through Barnes & Noble this afternoon, I came across a book called Dancer by Colum McCann that I don't remember reading about on Ballet Alert. It's a novel based on Nureyev's life. This is from the Publisher's Weekly review, as reproduced on the Amazon site: The Amazon site has a lengthy excerpt: go to http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/080...8241573-5987003. (And, gentle reminder: if you decide to buy the book, using the Amazon link on Ballet Alert brings in revenue to the site. )

O-F, I ordered another CD from Amazon last summer and it was shipped on the day of release.

Alexandra, I remember ABT's history somewhat differently. They didn't get seriously into the classics business until Baryshnikov joined as a dancer. Then, since he was a short classicist, they began filling the corps with short classicists, in a desperate attempt to keep him. (And this despite his oft-repeated statement that he had left Russia not to dance the classics, but to do new work.) When, in the early '80s, Baryshnikov took over as director, he did make an effort to make the company more Maryinsky-like, but at the same time he began to hire different kinds of dancers. I remember hearing about an audition at which he rejected small girls and took in taller ones, because he wanted to give the company more variety. When people complained about ABT "not having a corps" they were talking — at least this was always the way I heard it — about the company's lack of an identifiable style, since it's always a company's corps that announces what it is (principals being individuals). And I don't think that cookie-cutter dancers are necessarily what makes a classical corps. Balanchine established NYCB on a rigorously Petipa-derived model, with hierarchies of dancers an essential element. And people still talk about the "Balanchine look," and yes, it does exist. But within this look there has always been room for quite a variety of body types. Think of Nina Fedorova and Elise Flagg, in the corps at the same time — hardly cookie-cutter images.

Alexandra, I'm sorry, but I don't understand the distinction you're drawing. If you're not contrasting classical with character dancing, then what is classical's opposite? Demicaractere ballets like those of Tudor, de Mille, and early Robbins are, as you noted, out of fashion these days. This has had a spiralling effect, so that schools are not turning out the Nora Kayes and Sallie Wilsons of the past. And "small cast experimental" ballets these days tend to be, alas, "contemporary" stuff. I do think it's possible to have dancers who can straddle the stylistic requirements: the Cornejos at ABT, for instance. They will continue to be in the minority, however, until demicaractere ballets become the rage again (as will surely happen eventually).

I'm not sure that there is such a clear line of demarcation between the two kinds of companies, Alexandra. You mention the Royal (1960s era) as the leading Western company that did "the classics" (i.e. Petipa & Ivanov). That's true, but it was also famous for its character dancers at every level, not just the "principal character dancers" as in the Russian companies. One of the joys of seeing the Royal in those days (and, to a lesser extent, today) was the commitment of the entire company to bringing narrative ballets to life. The crowd scenes were enlivened by corps members who mimed convincingly, even if Ashton, Cranko, and MacMillan did not provide them with the same kind of specific characters that Bournonville and Fokine did. And I don't think it's asking too much of dancers to wear a white tutu one night and dance in a line, and then expect them to do Rodeo the next. Today's dancers are expected to make greater artistic leaps — they do Giselle and Balanchine in the same season (I'm talking here about the technical and stylistic differences). Of course that raises a whole other issue, but for those who take the purist approach, is that realistic? Only a wealthy company can afford to specialize so rigorously, and I can't think of any that do (let alone think of any that are wealthy ).

Old Fashioned, you will be able to see "Class" when the DVD comes out. The number was filmed but not included in the big screen release, but it will appear on the DVD (whether it'll be in sequence or an "extra" I don't know). I also don't know which version of "Class" they're going to include — apparently it was filmed two or three different ways, once with CZJ and QL, and once with QL and RZ. I also believe that the song will be included in the CD.

You know, on re-reading Barry's column, a lot of what he dislikes is the non-dancing aspects of ballet. He gripes about costumes, makeup, plots, and, especially, mime and expressions of emotion, but he rarely mentions the dancing except as it relates to the other things. I don't know which ballet he saw, but I suspect that an evening of two of high quality all-dance ballets (ahem, Balanchine?) would appeal to him much more.

Vagansmom has hit on something when she says (in an earlier post) that older men have a better appreciation of ballet because "most men knew how to dance socially." That's something almost totally gone in today's culture. Nobody learns how to fox-trot any more, and we don't have stars like Astaire, whose choreography was rooted in social dancing. Ballet has always incorporated elements of social dances — mazurka, czardas, etc. — but when people (not just men) go to the ballet today, they don't recognize a waltz when they hear one, and they can't understand how the choreography (and performances) reflect the music. So all they see is what — to them — is extremely artificial, and completely baffling, movement. There's nothing for them to latch onto. This is probably why the verb "to choreograph" has come to be used in non-dance situations involving something that very well-planned, with no room for spontaneity (such as diplomatic manoevers).

Rkoretzky, the Tonys last year introduced a new category of award, called something like Special Theatrical Event. It's to be used for shows that don't fit into any of the existing categories. Last year it was won by Elaine Stritch's one-woman show. I think that Boheme will probably be nominated for this award. Mel, are you familiar with Rent? That's an updated version of Boheme — with an all-new score, not Puccini's.

About Zeta-Jones: I've been thinking about why she seemed out of place in the movie, and I think it's because Chicago is a lean, hard, tough musical, and she was soft, plush, and sensual. The era it's set in may be the twenties, but the work itself is from 1975 . . . and 2002, when the movie was made. It doesn't purport to recreate the era it's set in; none of it was filmed on location and there is no "Chicago in the twenties" thing about it. It's set in the twenties because the play it's based on was written then. But what made the show such a big hit when Encores revived it six years ago was its immediacy — the Simpson trial had just ended and everyone was talking about how prophetic the show had been in 1975. It's a fable about today, not the twenties. Archaeo, I'd heard that CZJ has a musical theater background, but I didn't see evidence of it here. And bear in mind that this is just my opinion — others may think I'm all wrong.

I saw a preview of the movie last night. Overall I think it's a success, and one of the best film adaptations of a stage musical I've seen. But since most movie versions of stage musicals are dreadful, this is not very high praise. Generally, though, I think it's a good movie. Not as good as the stage version, but that's to be expected. Bill Condon, who wrote the screenplay, and Rob Marshall, the director, have solved the problem of movie actors looking silly when they suddenly burst into song by making all the musical numbers take place in Roxie Hart's imagination. This works, but it does get a little repetitious. The frenetic editing at the beginning of the film, very MTV, worried me, but the movie then settled down to a headache-free pace. It's been five years since I've seen the show, so I can't comment with great authority about how much was left out or what was added, but I'm very familiar with the CD and noticed that several songs were cut. This didn't bother me except for one song, "Class," which I adore. The Playbill article linked above tells why they had to cut it, and I understand, but still wish that audiences who will never see the stage show could have gotten a chance to hear it. Fortunately, it'll be included in the DVD and CD. None of the three principals — Renee Zellweger, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Richard Gere — can sing or dance well, and this affects their performances in different ways. Zellweger has enough acting to do (and she does it so well) that you don't notice it too much, but Zeta-Jones doesn't look like a dancer (she's a bit, um, fleshy). Gere's singing and dancing made me cringe. He acts well enough, but I would have much preferred to see someone else in the role. dirac, Kevin Spacey was reportedly offered the part but turned it down to do something else, and he would have been a big improvement. (He can sing, but I don't know if he can dance.) They've made Roxie a more sympathetic character than she is onstage, and the whole film comes across as less cynical. Zellweger balances Roxie's hardness and naiveté very well. But Zeta-Jones's performance didn't work for me. She wasn't "low" enough, too ladylike, too soft in a way. I didn't believe that she'd lived the kind of hard life she describes, and her inflections in the singing didn't have the punch that I've heard from other singers. Watching Christine Baranski, who really can sing and dance, in the small role of Mary Sunshine, it was hard not to think what a better Velma she would have been. Queen Latifah as Mama Morton and John C. Reilly as Amos Hart were both wonderful. Chita Rivera, the original (1975) Velma, can be spotted in a tiny cameo, and at the end of the closing credits there's a reprise of "All That Jazz" by an uncredited singer who sounds a great deal like Bebe Neuwirth, the original Velma of the 1996 Broadway revival.

If Mason is willing to work closely with her Assistant Director, sharing the problems of running a company, I think that four years as AD would be excellent training for anyone who hopes to be a full-fledged director some day, whether at the RB or at any other company.

Tricolore was meant to be the third part in a trilogy of "national" ballets, with the others being Stars and Stripes (1957) and Union Jack (1976). It isn't mentioned in Repertory in Review, Estelle, because it was done in 1978, two years after RIR stops. It was Balanchine's idea, and he was supposed to have made the ballet, but he suffered a heart attack and couldn't do it. He turned over the work to three choreographers, each of whom made a different section. Jean-Pierre Bonnefoux, Peter Martins, and I forget who the third was — someone here can undoubtedly remember. Balanchine devised the libretto, and the choreographers had to stick to it. That was half of the problem, since Balanchine's notions were so nutty that only he could have made something of it. The others just weren't on his wavelength. The other half of the problem was the absolutely ghastly music by Georges Auric. It was gassily vaporous and had no dance impulse at all. I used to joke that seeing the score was what caused Mr. B's heart attack. But seriously, I doubt even he could have made anything of it. My mind has drawn a merciful veil over most of the choreography. I do remember how miserable the dancers all looked; you could tell what they thought of the piece. I also remember Nina Fedorova, embarrassed and miserable, being hoisted into the air as Glebb describes. Later in the run, Stephanie Saland took over that part and managed it with grace and dignity, for which she deserved an award. I realize this means that I actually saw it twice. But I was younger and stronger then.

I remember seeing a photo of MacMillan's Agon once. The dancers were in black and white costumes, but the women wore tutus. It must have been a color photo, because I remember thinking it interesting that he chose black and white as the color scheme. Still, he did go with tutus.

Mel writes: Ever see Tricolore? :eek: