Ari

Nanatchka, what is the "reduced number of Shades" that appear in this production? Is it 24? I don't see why it was too expensive to bring them all; there were certainly 36 in the version they brought in '91 or '92. And the Bolshoi provided 36 here a few weeks ago (for the opening procession only; the rest of the act was performed by 24 girls).

For me, a distinct style is the most important feature of any ballet company. It's what makes me want to go back and see more of the company. If I can see several companies with pretty much the same repertoire, it will make no difference which I'll buy tickets for. It's very disconcerting to me to see different dancers in the same ballet dancing in different styles. Perhaps if I were a dancer, I could be fulfilled just focusing on the talents of the individual performers, but as a non-dancer, what I want out of a ballet performance is the feeling of seeing a total work of art, which demands stylistic consistency. However, I've come to have a grudging respect for those companies that emphasize variety in their repertoire. Because I lived in New York for so long, I had the opportunity of following NYCB, which has a distinct style, while at the same time being able to see a wide variety of other companies and other styles. But I realize that not everyone is so lucky. If I lived in a small city that had only one ballet company, or a city that only got to see professional ballet when ABT came to town, I would probably prefer variety to stylistic consistency. I don't think that it's altogether necessary to choose between the two options, however. The old Royal Ballet used to be able to dance a wide variety of ballets and still maintain a distinct style of its own. Nowadays, with the company having ditched its own style for the generic approach to ballet, it's become the National Ballet of Anywhere. POB may be the only major company left that still maintains that delicate balance, although it's hard to tell when I see them so infrequently. The trouble with trying to balance the two approaches is that a company runs the risk of being criticized by both sides—the adherents of the company's style complaining that the company is changing its profile by dancing "foreign" works, and supporters of the ballet's style griping that the company's dancers don't do the ballet "properly."

The casting of Glenn Keenan and Faye Arthurs in Raymonda makes me wonder whether Eva Natanya is injured. The times I saw her dance the first variation she was astonishing, the best I've ever seen.

I think many of Balanchine's ballets are very American, not in terms of "subject matter" (which is often unclear), but in the style. In Agon, for instance, the Americanness lies in the notion of competition as a life force and a joy. Similarly, the cocky, street-smart boys of Rubies always look Brooklyn to me, even when they're danced by Russians or Frenchmen, and there's something brave-new-worldish about 4 Ts.

I think many of Balanchine's ballets are very American, not in terms of "subject matter" (which is often unclear), but in the style. In Agon, for instance, the Americanness lies in the notion of competition as a life force and a joy. Similarly, the cocky, street-smart boys of Rubies always look Brooklyn to me, even when they're danced by Russians or Frenchmen, and there's something brave-new-worldish about 4 Ts.

I liked some of Martins's early work, like Sonate di Scarlatti and The Magic Flute. Both were made to Balanchine's specifications, I think—at least Flute was. That ballet included a charming moment in which the male lead (danced by Martins at some performances) danced with six little boys. It was irresistible, and audiences loved it. It wasn't strong enough to merit a revival, however. It seems that the Martins ballets I like best are the ones he's made with company needs in mind, rather than his own wishes. Flute was made for an SAB Workshop; The Sleeping Beauty was the fulfillment of a long-held dream of Lincoln Kirstein's. Perhaps if he thought of ballet-making as a way of bringing out the best in the company ("cabinet-making," Balanchine used to call it), his ballets would have greater appeal.

Worst ever? Not Martins's. The hand-down winner for me is Nureyev's for POB. That was a horror. Grigorovich's is second. (I haven't seen the Mackenzie, so I can't comment, or vote.)

Does anyone know why mime was forbidden in Soviet Russia? Was it against Communist doctrine, and if so, in what way? Or was it an arbitrary rule, a way of differentiating the "new" ballet from the Imperial variety?

Ed, the Royal Danish Ballet website says that the company will be performing Cranko's Onegin on August 24, 27, and 30. If you go to http://www.kgl-teater.dk/dkt2002uk/ballet/frame.htm, you can find information, in English, about the company's season and how to purchase tickets.

According to Alexander Bland's book The Royal Ballet: The First Fifty Years, now out of print, Pineapple Poll was the work of John Cranko and was made in 1951 for the Sadler's Wells Theater Ballet. In 1959 it was staged for the Royal Ballet, which hasn't danced it in many years. The music is by Arthur Sullivan (of Gilbert & Sullivan), arranged by Charles Mackerras. So, Paquita, I'd guess that the video is of the Royal Ballet.

When did that happen, Alexandra? I ask because the magazine's fabled fact-checking has gotten more careless in recent years. Typical was John Lahr's statement, in his review of the current Broadway production of Oklahoma, that the leading actress was the first ever to dance the role of Laurey as well as act and sing it. In fact, an actress named Susan Watson did that in 1964. (This caused quite a ruckus on a theater bulletin board I visit.)

Columbine was a significant role in Hlinka's career because it was her very first solo of any kind. It happened, I think, in 1975 or 1976, winter season, when Patricia McBride (who never got sick or injured) caught the flu and Hlinka, her understudy, was forced to go on with about a day's notice. I saw the performance and she was amazingly strong (that is a tough part) and confident. People were saying afterwards that she would be "the next comet." Well, it certainly didn't work out that way—she had to wait a long, long time for her talent to be recognized—but she acquired a devoted fan club that stuck with her through the lean years.Kate, you also asked if anyone had seen a danseur's final performance. I saw Peter Martins's, but it was nothing like the gala celebrations enjoyed by the ballerinas. He chose to go out after the 1,000th performance of The Nutcracker in, I think, 1983. He had been directing the company for about a year and decided (wisely, I think) that he couldn't be both coach and player. There was no ceremony after the performance, just prolonged applause and a solo bow. In his unsentimental way, he simply extended his arm after the last bow as if to say, "Okay, thanks, this was lovely, but enough."

On another thread, Kate writes: What other ballets in the company's repertory would you like to see revived?One of my first thoughts is Jewels, which hasn't been done in a while. I'd love to see Jenifer Ringer in the Mimi Paul role; she was born to dance it. (I also wanted to see Meunier do the Verdy role, but now . . ..) There are scads of dancers for the McBride role in Rubies: not just Weese, but Somogyi, Bouder, Taylor, and others. Of the Balanchine ballets, I'd also like to see Brahms-Schoenberg again, and Gounod Symphony. Does anyone in the Robbins wing of the company still remember An Evening's Waltzes well enough to teach it? That was one of Robbins's better works, if memory serves, though it could be risky for the dancers. And I'd love to see Bournonville Divertissements again—perhaps rehearsed by Hubbe. Whatever happened to Martins's plan to revive Summerspace? Was Cunningham unwilling to rehearse it again? Nanatchka?

Well, I've said this before, but since you asked . . . . The Diamond Project exists because of a special grant, and I'm not about to turn down money for a good cause (the creation of new ballets). BUT, in order for the project to be worthwhile, some major changes must be made. The trouble with the DP is the way it's been executed. Martins's credo seems to be: "Do anything you want, as long as it's lean, fast, busy, and above all hip." He isn't really interested in exploring the many possibilities of ballet as an art, just in reproducing the kind of ballets he personally likes. This is a particularly sensitive issue at NYCB now because of the Balanchine legacy. Martins wants to continue the Balanchine tradition, and I believe he's sincere in what he says. The trouble is that he sees this tradition in a very narrow way, whereas the glory of Balanchine is that his was a rich, inclusive style (which is, I think, what Jennifer Homans was trying to get at in her wildly written article in the Times several weeks ago). Just try to think of any of the DP choreographers producing anything as deeply felt and richly nuanced as Mozartiana, or as complex, witty, and disciplined as the Stravinsky Violin Concerto. What NYCB choreographers have got to do, IMO, is to break away from what they think of as "the Balanchine tradition" and deliberately explore other forms of classical expression. What's wrong with story ballets? Or ballets whose costumes and sets are an integral part of the work? What about trying something in which poetry or other spoken words form a part of the ballet? I'm not saying these things are necessarily good, just that they would be an invigorating change for choreographers who grew up thinking that Balanchine took ballet as far as it could go and the only way to go beyond him is to do something, like, totally 2002. Balanchine himself did the same thing. He grew up in the post-Petipa Maryinsky, an environment similar to the one we're in now. His reaction to it, when he first started putting dances together, was to reject the established classical (Petipa) mold and choreograph the kinds of works that were considered "modern." He did this for years before gradually returning to Petipa . . . but in his own way, with his own style. This is, I think, what would happen to a good choreographer who had the chance to spread his/her wings in the post-Balanchine NYCB. Another benefit of this approach would be more variety for the audience, which has come to expect ballets of numbing similarity from the DP. So, if I were in charge of the project, I would spread it out over the course of the Winter and Spring seasons and reserve it solely for choreographers who are either truly in the development stage (there's no point in including established choreographers like Martins and Wheeldon whose ballets the company puts on anyway) or those new to the company. AND I would allow them much more rehearsal time than they now have, which is important for fledglings, and provide them with assistance and advice from musicians, designers, and others who have participated in the creation of new ballets. If this means reducing the number of DP ballets given in one year, so be it. I'm sure Irene Diamond, or whatever her name is, would be persuaded by a quality-not-quantity argument. Just my 2¢.

Did anyone see Jenifer Ringer's debut in Theme and Variations over the weekend? I'm dying to hear about it.

Here's the good news: the Bolshoi's Bayadere is better than its Swan Lake. Here's the rest of the news. The Bolshoi's Bayadere is the dreariest production I've seen. Makarova's productions for ABT and the Royal, Vinogradov's (? I'm writing from memory here) for the Kirov (now superseded by the "historical" version), and Nureyev's for the POB (and his Shades scene for the Royal, now superseded by Makarova's full-length production), are/were all better. It can't all be laid at Grigorovich's door, although his excision of the mime and his troupe of marauding Indians (who in their red-brown body paint look more like MGM Old West Indians than Indian Indians, and who dance more like the wormy creeps in Prodigal Son) do a lot of damage. Their stab at historical accuracy in the costuming (the program notes that they were "reproduced according to the original design for the first performance of 1877") has yielded drab, tired-looking garments, with the odd exception of Solor's vivid turquoise outfit in the Shades scene, where it is badly out of place. The same effort with the scenery, however, produced happier results, especially in the first and second acts. I do question, though, whether the three ramps in the Shades scene are authentic. It strikes me as typical Bolshoi overkill, an attempt to substitute flashy effects for the simpler thrill of the choreography and dancing. The most disappointing aspect of the production, however, was the lack of interest displayed by the dancers. They look as though they were unaware of the ballet's position in their native tradition (Russian, if not Bolshoi) and couldn't tell the difference between it and, say, Grigorovich's Legend of Love, which also employs a lot of hoochie-kooch dancing. They treat it as audience-pleasing kitsch. With such an attitude radiating from the stage, I kept thinking how the ballet was really just a retread of Giselle, plopped down in sexy India. By contrast, ABT has always treated the ballet with respect. Whenever I watch them do it, I'm struck by the dancers' seriousness, their eagerness to understand and convey the grandeur of the Imperial style. They (and the other companies I've seen) make it look like there's much more substance to the ballet than there really is, and I leave the theater feeling nourished and uplifted. Whatever became of the Bolshoi dancers' famous passionate commitment to everything they do? Last night's dancers performed their roles dutifully but without much understanding. Anastasia Volochkova was much better than I expected after Tuesday evening's Don Q divertissement, but her cool, remote manner—not just in the Shades scene but throughout the ballet, even in her scenes with Solor—left me feeling uninvolved and uncaring. By contrast, the lovely Maria Alexandrova was sunny, charming, and very likeable, and won over the audience completely. But since Gamzatti is a jealous, vindictive murderess, Alexandrova's performance made nonsense of the story. Evgency Ivanchenko, like Volotchkova a guest from the Kirov (and why did the Bolshoi have to import stars from its rival?) was the humblest Solor I've ever seen. He obviously saw his role as nothing but a support to the two ballerinas. While he danced well, he never performed as though the audience would be interested in watching him; he dispatched his solos dutifully and then cleared the stage for the real stars. The Shades scene used 32 dancers in the opening procession and 24 thereafter. I noticed some wobbly balances, but on the whole they were pretty good. The three solo shades (Elena Andrienko, Marianna Ryzhkina, and Maria Allash) all came up short in their variations. Some Bayaderes (the Kirov's old production, for instance) end with the Shades scene; others (notably Makarova's) include the originally produced fourth act, in which Solor marries Gamzatti and the gods show their wrath by destroying the temple. Grigorovich compromises (is this man a politician, or what): there are only three acts, but the apotheosis is eliminated from the Shades scene, the corps disappears, Nikiya bourees offstage and the disconsolate Solor lies down and suffers. Then the scenery changes back to the palace, which crumbles (exactly why isn't clear). After the excitement of its Washington season two years ago, the Bolshoi looked in sad shape this week. Is the new director, Boris Akimov (an acolyte of Grig's) to blame? I don't know, but this season didn't make me eager to see this December's Nutcracker.

I did. ;) I'd say it was a run-of-the-mill performance, equal to ABT on a non-star night. Anna Antonicheva appears to be a "house ballerina" (a more tactful way of saying utility ballerina)—competent but nothing special. It's hard to enjoy her performance when she looks so pained; I don't think she was injured, the expression seems to be habitual with her. (See the head shot of her on Marc Haegeman's site.) Both she and Andrei Uvarov were much freer and more relaxed than at the opening gala, and I warmed to Uvarov a bit more than I had on opening night. The "twin" Marias, Alexandrova and Allash, danced the pas de trois (with Uvarov) and two of the national dances in Act III. Two years ago, Alexandrova looked poised to become the Bolshoi's new star, but here she is, back in soloist roles again. She will get to dance Gamzatti on Friday, however. Grigorovich's production has a new, puzzling ending: Odette bourees behind a scrim and dies, Siegfried suffers silently centerstage. At least in other versions they get to be together, whether in death or in life. It's strange to see the Bolshoi like this. In the past, they always elicited some kind of feeling, be it positive or negative, but never before have they been boring.

Well, the ballet portion of the show was standard gala fare—warhorses like Black Swan and Don Q—but it also included a genuine novelty (to Western audiences, at least): the pas de deux from La Fille Mal Gardée, choreographed by, of all people, Alexander Gorsky. The opera portions seemed more like filler, with only one soloist (Vladimir Matorin, a basso). The idea behind the gala seemed to be the recognition of a very large gift to the Kennedy Center by Catherine B. Reynolds, and an attempt to match the ballet/opera gala by the Kirov last winter. It was well organized, with two extended scenes (with scenery as well as costumes) at the start and finish, and snippets in between. It was also blessedly short—2 hours 20 minutes. I find that galas featuring "highlights" can get numbing when they go on for hours. It opened with the Shades scenes from La Bayadère—the epitome of refined Maryinsky style. I was kind of apprehensive about how the Bolshoi would handle this, but they brought it off pretty well. I was too close to the stage to be able to see the great spectacle as it should be seen, and the lighting in the opening procession was so dark (has the Bolshoi hired away ABT's lighting designer?) that I'm sure I missed a lot. Still, the soloists were all good (but why didn't the company identify the three solo Shades?), and I very much liked Nikolai Tsiskaridze. His fine taut line and clean, airy dancing were perfect for Solor, and he didn't over-emote the way many men do in this role. He did botch his landings in a manège of turns and once pulled Anna Antonicheva off pointe, but the beauty of the rest of his performance made me put those flubs down to jet lag. After Tsiskaridze, Andrei Uvarov looked merely human and earthly in the Black Swan pas de duex with the dreadfully overworked Antonicheva, who is taking on all of Nadezhda Gracheva's roles this week. It didn't look like she was pacing herself, though, and she gave a big, clear account of a role she will have to dance twice more this week in its entirety, in addition to doing two full-length Nikiyas. The curiosity of the program was the Fille pas de deux, danced by Nina Kaptzova and Denis Medvedev. Of all the people to have tackled a restaging of this charming, gentle Romantic work, Gorsky is surely the oddest choice; after all, he made a vulgar mess of Petipa's Don Quixote. (Incidentally, Gorsky had a hand in two other pieces on the program, since both Black Swan and of course Don Q are partially credited to him.) But, surprise—he didn't ruin it. The choreography for the ballerina is clearly post-Petipa (lots of pointe work and multiple overhead lifts), but that for the danseur looked quite Bournonvillean to me—more beats than turns and even a diagonal of jetés in attitude. Of course, it was all danced in the modern Bolshoi style, which altered the look of the choreography for the man considerably, but I thought it was interesting to see Gorsky making an effort to salute an earlier style. The final ballet item was an expanded version of the Don Q pas de deux, with two female soloists and an ensemble of six girls. The fascination here was the performance of Anastasia Volochkova as Kitri. Trained at the Maryinsky, Volochkova is now a freelance who has been guesting with the Bolshoi lately. Her style is certainly more Bolshoi-like than Kirov-like, but Bolshoi in the old Plisetskaya way—over the top and sunnily vulgar. She is a big, solid woman with an upper body more like an Olympic swimmer's than a ballerina's, and she seemed reined in, as though she were trying to tone herself down to fit in with company style. The prospect of her as Nikiya,which she will dance on Friday, leads to lurid imaginings. I wonder how much of the company the Bolshoi is bringing to Washington. Do they really only have two ballerinas? (Volochkova is a guest.) Last night's program did not include a company roster. The list of female corps dancers was buried at the end of the program, and one was identified as dancing only in the Don Q divertissement at the gala. Very odd.

While Midsummer is not among my favorite Balanchine ballets, I prefer it to Ashton's because, as you said Manhattnik, Balanchine goes deeper and shows us some of the darker aspects of the play. I often feel that Ashton tends to skim the surface of things, and the way he responds to Mendelssohn's fairy music—all that scurrying and twittering, then the freeze on the chord—is just the sort of thing I mean. The "decorative, ornamental prettiness" you mention is a problem I often have with Ashton; it robs his choreography of true classical grandeur and implies that ballet is frilly stuff. I do like a lot of Ashton, especially La Fille, but the more I see of his work, the more problems I have with it.

While Midsummer is not among my favorite Balanchine ballets, I prefer it to Ashton's because, as you said Manhattnik, Balanchine goes deeper and shows us some of the darker aspects of the play. I often feel that Ashton tends to skim the surface of things, and the way he responds to Mendelssohn's fairy music—all that scurrying and twittering, then the freeze on the chord—is just the sort of thing I mean. The "decorative, ornamental prettiness" you mention is a problem I often have with Ashton; it robs his choreography of true classical grandeur and implies that ballet is frilly stuff. I do like a lot of Ashton, especially La Fille, but the more I see of his work, the more problems I have with it.

Sorry, Jeannie, it seems the Kennedy Center operator and I had a failure of communication. I called back and you're right, Thursday is Bayadere, with Antonicheva, Tsiskaridze, and Allash. And Sunday matinee is Bayadere, with Gracheva, Allash, and Uvarov.

Casting for this week: Tues., June 11—Gala; see link in Jeannie's post above. Wed. June 12—Swan Lake with Gracheva and Uvarov. Thurs. June 13—Swan Lake with Antonicheva and Allash. Fri. June 14—Bayadere with Volochkova, Alexandrova, and Ivanchenko. Sat. mat. June 15—Swan Lake with Antonicheva and Tsiskaradze. Sat. eve. June 15—Bayadere, same cast as Fri. Sun. mat. June 16—Gracheva and either Allash or Uvaro, wasn't clear. So, no Ananiashvili or Lunkina. From what I've read of Volochkova, she hardly seems the type for Nikiya, but I'll get a chance to see for myself.

Imagining Meunier at ABT leads me to think of the Van Hamel repertory, so I chose Myrtha. If anyone can approach Van Hamel in this, it would probably be Meunier. She'd also make a great Episode in His Past, and could be terrific in Push Comes to Shove. At the beginning, I'd rather see her do roles that she didn't do at NYCB, so that ruled out Lilac. And by Big Swan, you do mean Odette-Odile, don't you? They wouldn't dare put her in the corps, would they? Would they?

Calliope, dancers being thrown into roles is nothing new; it happened in Balanchine's day all the time. I agree it shouldn't have to happen, though. I blame the size of the repertoire that the company dances each season. If they did fewer ballets, they'd have to schedule more performances of each ballet, with alternate casts. This would ensure that there was at least one other dancer prepared to go on in case the scheduled dancer had to drop out.

Calliope, dancers being thrown into roles is nothing new; it happened in Balanchine's day all the time. I agree it shouldn't have to happen, though. I blame the size of the repertoire that the company dances each season. If they did fewer ballets, they'd have to schedule more performances of each ballet, with alternate casts. This would ensure that there was at least one other dancer prepared to go on in case the scheduled dancer had to drop out.