Farrell Fan

It seems fitting that, as a mainstay of the company, Magnicaballi got to do the lead role in this loving restoration. Thanks for the wonderful report, Jack. I was pleased that the audience turned its attention to the dance after applauding the little girl with the half-umbrella. I've always found that hard to do, being too concerned with whether the child would be able to keep up with the adult dancer. And as someone who can't describe dance except in cliches, I am closely following your quest to capture in words the movement of Heather Ogden. I know you can do it.

Thanks, Jack! I'd been looking forward eagerly to this first report, and you did not disappoint! It's great to have the complete list of dancers of this wonderful company -- including the newly returned Chan Hon Goh and the apparently just arrived Melissa Barak. I don't want to get carried away, but the phrase "All-Star Company" did cross my mind. A toast to you (single malt, of course), Edinburgh, Ballet Talk, the SFB, and Suzanne!

"Land up" for "end up" sounds perfectly normal to me, perhaps because many of the kids I grew up with in East Harlem (an Italian-American neighborhood at the time) landed up in trouble.

Suzanne Farrell may be a cat dancer, but she is also a dog person. Her greeting cards to me in recent years came from her and her dog Tex.

Sorry you won't be going, Watermill. I was looking forward to your reports.

Does anyone remember Piege de Lumiere (sorry I can't reproduce the accents), a ballet by John Taras? I saw it a couple of times in the sixties and I can't remember whether it was creepy or not, but it would seem to me a ballet involving a massacre of butterflies (which is not The Concert) would have to be. I never saw the originators of the lead roles in it -- Arthur Mitchell and Maria Tallchief, but have vivid memories of Paul Mejia, Mitchell's successor.

I really liked E. Johnson's program of "creepy" ballets which inspired this thread and wouldn't hesitate to attend whatever title the marketing department dreamed up for it. The works demonstrate various aspects of creepiness. "La Sonnambula is a work which should be a fixture in the repertory. Yet its hints of necrophilia definitely make it creepy. "Door and a Sigh" takes Balanchine's "musicality" to the maddening extreme of musique concrete, and the unsettling sight of a Balanchine ballerina swallowing the hapless male sigh in her voluminous garment. And the "In the night" section of "Ivesiana," is literally creepy-crawly, as the entire cast crawls on its knees in the dark -- one of the most disturbing Balanchine images. As for "Seven Deadly Sins," I've never seen it, but I'd certainly love to.

Mr. Kirstein should be honored in the two buildings he was instrumental in bringing to reality: the School of American Ballet and the New York State Theater. Perhaps a ballet by Christopher Wheeldon might be commissioned, and after it's premiere at SAB, it could enter the NYCB repertory. If the ballet had a cameo role for Puss in Boots, so much the better.

So sorry to read this. She was the first ballerina I was aware of in the years when I grew enamored of NYCB. However reluctantly Balanchine choreographed Cortege Hongrois for her farewell ballet, she triumphed in it and left some of the audience in tears.

Did I miss the sad news about Melissa Hayden?

The things one learns on Ballet Talk! I had thought that quote was about Los Angeles. Thanks to Major Mel for setting me straight.

I don't know what's meant by "a serious survey," but many times in the last twenty years or so years at NYCB, questionaires (4 pages, as I recall) and those nasty little stubby pencils were distributed. I answered two or three of them, but ignored some others. The questions were usually in the nature of "How did you hear about this performance?" They seemed designed for the marketing department and did not address repertory.

It's time to renew my three subscriptions, and the new system is not so bad. Of the twelve performances on my subscriptions, Only five are duplicates, including three Sleeping Beauties, which would have been on my subscriptions under the old mix-and-match system. So the change for me affects just two performnces. For those with problems, the letter accompanying the brochure provides a phone number to call someone named Stacey Butler and advises, "She can discuss various options with you and take care of implementing the solution that best suits your needs." Incidentally, the brochure is stunning. All the photographs are by Paul Kolnik and are performance shots from the repertory. No more artsy fashion photos of dancers in Central Park or jumping off rooftops. I'm relieved and happy. I've been through a lot with NYCB in recent decades. I'm glad not to have to give up on them just yet.

Wow! Thank you, rg and drb! I can see it now...

Thanks for the response, Patrick. I can't be sure now whether the eight men in black were meant to be Romeos, other characters, or unidentified dancers, but I was struck by them just as you were by Suzanne's white shroud/train, which I don't remember. In a failed attempt to recall more of the occasion, I googled Kazuko Hillyer, who was the producer of "Ballet at the Beacon." I thought I was getting close to paydirt when the subject became "Multiple Personae." But that turned out to be an old Ballet Talk thread in which I had mentioned Ms. Hillyer. The wonders of the internet never cease to amaze and confound. At any rate, it would indeed be wonderful if someone out there knew the ballet we are talking about. I lost my Beacon booklet long ago, as well.

Was that where the eight Romeos arranged themselves into a bier for Juliet?

Without wishing to revisit one of our perennial subjects, I think the ending of Peter Martins's Sleeping Beauty, which culminates not just with a wedding but with an abdication and a coronation, is pretty spectacular.

I'd love to see examples from Kirstein's extensive art collection on display on the various levels of the New York State Theater next spring. He put together a book called "Quarry: A Collection in lieu of Memoirs," Twelvetrees Press, 1986, which would be enormously helpful in this respect. There are portraits of Balanchine and Nureyev, several stunning sculpted heads of Kirstein, as well as beautiful examples of Asian, African, and American art. I think it would be an eye-opener in showing the breadth of the man. Considering the disappointment of the Balanchine centennial, I have little hope such a project would materialize for Kirstein's. But at the very least, perhaps the huge Nadelman sculptures on the promenade could be decorated in the manner of the New York Public Library Lions at Christmas. After Kirstein's death, I remember how shocked I was to see someone else sitting in the seat he had long occupied in the first ring. But I don't suppose anything can be done about that at this late date.

Because for some forty years I've had three NYCB subscriptions, there's always been a lot of repetition in my attendance at NYCB. But the programs (except for the full-evening works) were seldom, if ever, exact duplicates, and, despite my old fogey status, it was interesting to see the same works in different contexts. This will no longer be possible under the new system. It remains to be seen whether this is basically a copywriting gimmick or if it will make a difference in the quality of the performances. As a former copywriter, I tend toward the former view. The quote from Peter Martins in the Times is not reassuring in this respect. "It's an attempt to sort of be relevant to today's market, addressing today's audiences and their needs." That statement sort of makes me cringe.

Thank you very much, Shirley.

For me, Darcy Bussell's guest appearances with NYCB, particularly in Agon, linger in memory as among the most exciting performances at the NY State Theater after the banishment of Suzanne Farrell, the Elusive Muse herself. I don't miss a lack of "serious" discussion on Ballet Talk about Bussell (be careful what you wish for, I say), because there is no lack of internet fan activity, including an official web site and another that bills itself as "a shrine to Mistress Darcy Bussell." There is one serious matter I would like cleared up, however. Her name is usually spelled Darcy. But on her official site it's Darcey.

I saw what Major Mel saw in Kay Mazzo's face and can still recall it vividly.

My remark was a wisecrack, not a question requiring such an exhaustive explanation.

What's funny about that?