Farrell Fan

Aubri's knowledge of Italian grammar is impressive, and in print brave would certainly be the way to cheer for a group of women or girls, whichever you prefer. But Michael said something a while back about the sound of the o in bravo providing a more satisfying bellow than ah or ee in brava and bravi. In the case of brave, unlike the other three, shouted in an audience it wouldn't sound like an exclamation of approval at all: bravOH! bravAH! bravEE! BravEH?

The most recent posts, by dirac and Aylmer, remind me that the scoreboard at Wimbledon used to refer to Billy Jean and Chrissie as Mrs. B.J. King and Mrs. C.E. Lloyd, respectively. I don't know if it's still the practice to use honorifics for the ladies, as women tennis players are still called there. I found Morris Neighbor's comments on the youth of dancers and the dance boom of the 60s quite convincing. One more thing, and it's the sort of thing I would ordinarily refrain from commenting on, but I feel I must uphold my franchise as Farrell Fan. In recent times, the surname of Suzi from Cincinnati has been rendered here as Flicker, and now Fricker. It's Ficker, folks: Roberta Sue Ficker.

The most recent posts, by dirac and Aylmer, remind me that the scoreboard at Wimbledon used to refer to Billy Jean and Chrissie as Mrs. B.J. King and Mrs. C.E. Lloyd, respectively. I don't know if it's still the practice to use honorifics for the ladies, as women tennis players are still called there. I found Morris Neighbor's comments on the youth of dancers and the dance boom of the 60s quite convincing. One more thing, and it's the sort of thing I would ordinarily refrain from commenting on, but I feel I must uphold my franchise as Farrell Fan. In recent times, the surname of Suzi from Cincinnati has been rendered here as Flicker, and now Fricker. It's Ficker, folks: Roberta Sue Ficker.

He came to NYCB in 1957 from SFB, and remained into the early 70s. Best remembered as a self-effacing, impeccable partner, he created roles in many of Balanchine's enduring works: Liebeslieder, partnering Jillana; Monumentum pro Gesualdo, partnering Diana Adams; Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux, Violette Verdy; Midsummer Night's Dream, as Cavalier to Melissa Hayden's Titania; Brahms-Schoenberg, Patricia McBride in the Intermezzo; Jewels, Verdy again in Emeralds; Tchai Suite No. 3, Kay Mazzo in the Valse Melancholique. In his 1074 book about NYCB, "Dance as a Contact Sport," Joseph H. Mazo wrote: "Ludlow is the person you hope will be passing in the street should you ever fall out of a window, because the odds are that he will catch you before the bounce." Mazo went on to say, "The dance historians won't write Conny Ludlow down as a great performer, but he holds a place in his colleagues' minds as a masterful partner, a gifted teacher, a professional and a gentleman. He's the kind of man you miss when he isn't there." When he left NYCB, I think he became artistic director of a company in Oklahoma. (He was originally from Montana.) I'd occasionally see his name in Dance Magazine, but I haven't in a long time now. Does anyone have recollections of his dancing? Or know what he's doing now?

Related to the problem of applause is the question of Bravo. Long ago, I used to shout Bravo (never before the final curtain) at Edward Villella, say, or the conductor Robert Irving. When Suzanne Farrell took a solo curtain call, I would shout Brava. When she took one with Jacques d'Amboise or Peter Martins, I would shout Bravi. I was brought up speaking Italian as well as English, so I was doing what came naturally -- Bravo for a man, Brava for a woman, and Bravi for two or more people. I came to realize that audience members without knowledge of Italian grammar might have thought I was acting superior. On one of my subscriptions there was a guy who, every time I yelled "Bravi!" would shout "Bravisssimo!" apparently under the impression I was using a superlative and going me one better. I recall a reference by Clive Barnes once, to a Bravo, Brava, Bravi shouter (not me), whom he considered, at best, quaint. These days I don't do much shouting, limiting my expressions of approval to either polite or vigorous clapping. But I feel uncomfortable when a Darci Kistler or Kyra Nichols is greeted with enthusiastic cries of Bravo rather than Brava. Of course, with younger members of the audience, whoops and hollers have largely replaced Bravos. I have mixed feelings about that, but at least they are gender-neutral.

Related to the problem of applause is the question of Bravo. Long ago, I used to shout Bravo (never before the final curtain) at Edward Villella, say, or the conductor Robert Irving. When Suzanne Farrell took a solo curtain call, I would shout Brava. When she took one with Jacques d'Amboise or Peter Martins, I would shout Bravi. I was brought up speaking Italian as well as English, so I was doing what came naturally -- Bravo for a man, Brava for a woman, and Bravi for two or more people. I came to realize that audience members without knowledge of Italian grammar might have thought I was acting superior. On one of my subscriptions there was a guy who, every time I yelled "Bravi!" would shout "Bravisssimo!" apparently under the impression I was using a superlative and going me one better. I recall a reference by Clive Barnes once, to a Bravo, Brava, Bravi shouter (not me), whom he considered, at best, quaint. These days I don't do much shouting, limiting my expressions of approval to either polite or vigorous clapping. But I feel uncomfortable when a Darci Kistler or Kyra Nichols is greeted with enthusiastic cries of Bravo rather than Brava. Of course, with younger members of the audience, whoops and hollers have largely replaced Bravos. I have mixed feelings about that, but at least they are gender-neutral.

I read a letter by Giannina in the print version of Ballet Alert once, and felt compelled to respond with a letter of my own. Primarily, I disagreed with lumping together the audiences of ABT and NYCB. It seemed to me then, and still does, that the ABT audience often applauds inappropriately (halfway through those 32 fouettes, for instance), and the NYCB audience doesn't applaud enough. Be that as it may, I heartily endorse Giannina's formulation here of when to applaud. Giselle has been ruined for me more than once by clapping and bellowing at the most ethereal moments. I again take exception though, to holding up the symphony audience as a model of appropriate behavior, as syr does here: "A mildly educated audience of classical music would not dare applaud until the conductor's baton comes down at the very end." Personally, I would much rather hear spontaneous applause between movements than the coughing, hawking, shuffling, and wheezing which is the norm. I'd hate to bring that joyless, intimidating atmosphere to ballet. At the other extreme, as Ed Waffle points out, is the opera audience, which routinely greets truly atrocious renditions of famous arias with applause and bravos. I think if one pays attention to what's going on and uses taste and common sense, one will know when to applaud and when not to.

Ever since I started going to the ballet, I've been referring to dancers by their first names or even nicknames. This is true even of the most exalted stars -- Rudy, Misha, Natasha, Suzanne. I'm by no means alone in this practice. NYCB fans talk of Kyra, Darci, Monique, Wendy, Jock, Damian, Maria. That last one threw me the first time I heard it applied to Kowroski, because I'd gone through a couple of earlier Marias. I remember once reading something to the effect that ballet could not be taken seriously until dancers were called by their surnames, the way opera singers are -- Callas, Tebaldi, Pavarotti, Domingo. In the past, dancers were referred to that way too -- la Camargo, la Taglioni, Nijinsky, Pavlova. I chose Farrell Fan as my balletalert name because of the alliteration and because Suzanne's Fan sounds like a prop. But to me she remains Suzanne. What do you make of this practice of referring to dancers by their first names? Presumptuousness? Self-aggrandisement? Childishness? Any idea why we do it?

Ever since I started going to the ballet, I've been referring to dancers by their first names or even nicknames. This is true even of the most exalted stars -- Rudy, Misha, Natasha, Suzanne. I'm by no means alone in this practice. NYCB fans talk of Kyra, Darci, Monique, Wendy, Jock, Damian, Maria. That last one threw me the first time I heard it applied to Kowroski, because I'd gone through a couple of earlier Marias. I remember once reading something to the effect that ballet could not be taken seriously until dancers were called by their surnames, the way opera singers are -- Callas, Tebaldi, Pavarotti, Domingo. In the past, dancers were referred to that way too -- la Camargo, la Taglioni, Nijinsky, Pavlova. I chose Farrell Fan as my balletalert name because of the alliteration and because Suzanne's Fan sounds like a prop. But to me she remains Suzanne. What do you make of this practice of referring to dancers by their first names? Presumptuousness? Self-aggrandisement? Childishness? Any idea why we do it?

These responses are fun to read. I suppose I should have realized, but I had no idea so many moms were introduced to ballet because of their dancing daughters and sons. Like Ed Waffle, I've told this story here before, on a thread inspired by a silly Cosmopolitan article warning women not to ask their boyfriends to go to the ballet. In the early sixties, my future wife took me to see the Kirov dance Swan Lake at the old Metropolitan Opera House. It was mid-summer, the place was not air-conditioned, but nevertheless I loved what I saw. Soon thereafter, Alice took me to NYCB and I was hooked. So we got married. We continued to go to ballet together once or twice a week until she passed away in 1995. I go as much as ever now, alone or with a friend. Even when I go alone, I'm not lonely because there are many audience members I've gotten to know over the years thanks to the Promenade at the New York State Theater. I don't think I can match Ed's 40 Swan Lakes, but I estimate I've seen Serenade at least that many times and probably more.

I saw Blue Bulb Sweep, a piece Ryan Kelly choreographed for Ballet Builders 2002 on March 23. It was for six dancers, all NYCB corps members, and set to Benjamin Britten's Young Apollo. I thought it was the most fluent of the 8 short works on that bill, but in the tiny Times review by Jack Anderson it wasn't even mentioned. Kelly's bio in the Ballet Builders program said he "attends Fordham University, working toward a degree in Comparative Literature." It went on to say, "in May he will be choreographing for the Youth America Grand Prix concert in Lincoln Center."

This soon-to-be-70-year-old found Nanatchka's argument so compelling that I'm sorry now I voted for the young whippersnapper making her debut. Wish I could change my vote.

This soon-to-be-70-year-old found Nanatchka's argument so compelling that I'm sorry now I voted for the young whippersnapper making her debut. Wish I could change my vote.

I find myself in the position of seeming to defend less coverage of ballet and the Peking Opera and more uncoverage of Britney Spears. I'm not doing that. I would like to point out, though, that in the original posting, the "less Peking Opera, more Britney Spears" remark was attributed to Howell Raines, the Executive Editor of the Times. In The New Criterion piece, it's credited to "an unnamed Times reporter." Is it possible somebody made it up? To me it has a somewhat apocryphal ring. As for the dumbing down of the Times, I know when that began -- when art critic Hilton Kramer left, or was let go, I'm not sure which. Fortunately, he went on to found The New Criterion.

I find myself in the position of seeming to defend less coverage of ballet and the Peking Opera and more uncoverage of Britney Spears. I'm not doing that. I would like to point out, though, that in the original posting, the "less Peking Opera, more Britney Spears" remark was attributed to Howell Raines, the Executive Editor of the Times. In The New Criterion piece, it's credited to "an unnamed Times reporter." Is it possible somebody made it up? To me it has a somewhat apocryphal ring. As for the dumbing down of the Times, I know when that began -- when art critic Hilton Kramer left, or was let go, I'm not sure which. Fortunately, he went on to found The New Criterion.

I think this article overstates what the changes will be, before backtracking and saying things won't be so bad after all. I don't know who Andrew Gumbel is, but one of the sins of his piece is misrepresenting the columns of Maureen Dowd and Frank Rich. Both are certainly hip to pop culture, but they are also utterly serious commentators. You can be amusing and serious at the same time. I'm tired of seeing the Times referred to as "the good gray Times." It hasn't been that in many years. I thought only the NY Post failed to realize that. And if I can put in a good word for the Daily News, albeit the News of an earlier day: in November of 1989, the News was the only New York daily to mark Suzanne's farewell performance with an EDITORIAL! It was a beautiful piece, very touching, and obviously written by someone who knew ballet. I wonder where that editorial writer is now.

I think this article overstates what the changes will be, before backtracking and saying things won't be so bad after all. I don't know who Andrew Gumbel is, but one of the sins of his piece is misrepresenting the columns of Maureen Dowd and Frank Rich. Both are certainly hip to pop culture, but they are also utterly serious commentators. You can be amusing and serious at the same time. I'm tired of seeing the Times referred to as "the good gray Times." It hasn't been that in many years. I thought only the NY Post failed to realize that. And if I can put in a good word for the Daily News, albeit the News of an earlier day: in November of 1989, the News was the only New York daily to mark Suzanne's farewell performance with an EDITORIAL! It was a beautiful piece, very touching, and obviously written by someone who knew ballet. I wonder where that editorial writer is now.

At an NYCB seminar one year, Gordon Boelzner, the original pianist, told of hearing a remark from the audience loud and clear one night toward the end of the performance: "Oh no Murray, he's going to play another one!" I can't imagine anyone thinking Goldberg is too short. But I think it's a better ballet than is indicated here. I find it a very satisfying experience. For the first few seasons, an annoucement used to be made requesting the audience to refrain from applauding until the final curtain. Sometimes applause would break out in the second section no matter. Nowadays applause is heard throughout the piece, growing steadily more tepid, even though the dancing grows steadily more interesting. So I guess Robbins' original instinct to hold the applause was wise.

If I heard someone say, "I want to see more real ballet," it would mean to me that person wanted to see ballets with tutus, a set, a story, a prince, and more than one act. I recall a time in Saratoga when after a fine performance of Agon, a woman sitting next to me said, rather disgustedly, "I expected more from Balanchine." She was obviously new to ballet, but had probably heard that Balanchine was a great ballet choreographer. So she'd expected a "real ballet." Many times I've heard audience members refer to Agon and Four Temperaments as "modern dance." For them, perhaps, the key element of real ballet is the costumes. I don't have my own definition, but I think "real ballet" means very different things to different people.

I stayed at the Sheraton once and it is very comfortable. It looks like a convention hotel but during my stay, there was no convention going on, giving the place a somewhat forlorn and desolate look.

I voted for the debutante because I've undoubtedly seen the experienced older dancer many times in the role and am sure to see her (I feel obliged to add him) again. A debut, on the other hand, happens only once.

I voted for the debutante because I've undoubtedly seen the experienced older dancer many times in the role and am sure to see her (I feel obliged to add him) again. A debut, on the other hand, happens only once.

Because the Guild always put us up at the Holiday Inn, that's where I usually used to stay. It's next to Congress Park, a short walk to the center of town, and pleasant enough. But last year I finally stayed at the Adelphi, which is on Broadway at Phila (pronounced Fyla) Street, and has been there since the golden age of Saratoga. Last year in my doctor's office I saw an article in Travel and Leisure which described the Adelphi as "A time capsule of Gilded Age decadence and Victorian clutter." I didn't see many examples of decadence but the clutter is certainly there. The stairs creak, but are to be preferred to the small elevator, which may have been installed by Mr. Otis himself and requires the presence of a hotel employee to ride. (There are three storys above the ground floor.) Although there used to be, as of last year there was no restaurant on the premises, but the Adelphi bar is a favorite place for both dancers and fans to gather after the ballet at SPAC. The bad thing about the Adelphi is that it's pricey. I could only manage the smallest room last year. But if you can afford it and have a taste for antiques -- including in the bathroom pipes -- it's definitely the place to be.

Thanks for the recollections, Casloan. I regret never having seen Suzanne's Rite of Spring or Cinderella. We did see Cinderella at City Center one year with the Fort Worth Ballet, where Paul Mejia had gone on to become artistic director. Suzanne was in the audience and told us it was a very difficult role.

Thanks for recalling the NYCB Guild Trip to Saratoga, Casloan. It was always a great treat for me and my wife. I still miss it, even though I go to Saratoga on my own now, usually for a week. A highlight of the Guild Weekend on more than one occasion was a visit to the home of Shaun O'Brien and Cris Alexander. For those who don't know, Shaun was a longtime NYCB dancer best remembered for his Drosselmeyer and Dr. Coppelius, and Cris was a Broadway singer/dancer who was in the original casts of both On the Town and Wonderful Town. Later, he had a new career as a photographer. A few weeks after the last Guild Saratoga trip in the mid-90s (I don't remember the exact year) some NYCB and Guild functionaries invited trip participants to a get-together at the NY State Theater. We were asked to make suggestions as to how future trips could be improved. Many suggestions were made. although the consensus was "Don't fix it if it ain't broke." The next thing that happened was they abolished the trip altogether.