Farrell Fan

I agree that most Americans behave as though Bejart and Petit don't exist. In fact I mentioned the former to someone during an intermission at NYCB a couple of weeks ago, and though knowledgeable about ballet, he expressed surprise that Bejart was still alive. I wish I'd seen more of his work. I saw a little more of Petit's and agree with Alexandra's assessment. So that leaves Cunningham and Taylor, and because he's more accessible, I vote for Taylor.

I agree that most Americans behave as though Bejart and Petit don't exist. In fact I mentioned the former to someone during an intermission at NYCB a couple of weeks ago, and though knowledgeable about ballet, he expressed surprise that Bejart was still alive. I wish I'd seen more of his work. I saw a little more of Petit's and agree with Alexandra's assessment. So that leaves Cunningham and Taylor, and because he's more accessible, I vote for Taylor.

"It's big. It's expensive. It's eye-filling. But it isn't a very good ballet." So wrote Walter Terry in 1965 about Balanchine's Don Quixote. In her autobiography, Suzanne Farrell wrote, "My success in the ballet, as well as Balanchine's was somewhat undermined by the critical response...Not a season went by that Balanchine didn't add, subtract, or change something in it, always trying for a better way to seduce the audience into enjoying and accepting it." But nothing seemed to work. And it wasn't just critics who were displeased. I remember that subscribers stayed away in droves whenever it was performed. Sometimes I heard boos at the final curtain. Even the prospect of seeing Mr. B himself in the title role didn't help, because as Farrell recalled, "His appearances were never posted on the casting list; they would be announced over the loudspeaker as the lights in the theater dimmed." Despite the continual tinkering, I remember always enjoying the ballet. Nancy Reynolds wrote, "This is a very rare case of a Balanchine ballet that reveals itself most fully in recollection, not in immediate kinetic impact." A lot of years have passed since its last performance -- but I wonder at the Don Quixote recollections of Ballet Alertniks. And does anyone think a revival could possibly work?

I use the Paul Taylor season at City Center as a way to ease the pangs of withdrawal from NYCB's winter season. Last night's program was ideal in that respect. Dandelion Wine, to a concerto by Locatelli, is a lighthearted romantic romp which ends up funny. The next piece was the New York premiere of Antique Valentine, with, according to the program, "Music by Bach, Weber, Haydn, Beethoven, Chopin, and Mendelssohn played on music boxes, player-piano, and mechanical organ." The music, I should point out, is all on tape. It's a wind-up toy of a ballet with candy-box costumes by Santo Loquasto. I found myself thinking of it as Dr. Coppelius's final, failed masterwork. It's a slight ballet, but very amusing. One of the pieces of music used is Chopin's waltz, op. 34, no. 1, familiar from "Dances at a Gathering." I'm always a little nervous watching that section at NYCB because of the daredevil leaps and catches required by Robbins' choreography. It was a relief to see Taylor's take on it. Maybe I won't be as nervous next time at NYCB. The last piece was, as they say, something completely different -- one of Taylor's dark works, Speaking in Tongues, dating from 1988, with music for magnetic tape by Matthew Patton.There was a mesmerizing performance by Patrick Corbin as "A Man of the Cloth," and the amazing Lisa Viola, who had been so funny in Antique Valentine, was dramatically eloquent as "His Better Half."

It was a spectacular show, and last Tuesday nobody fell or jumped from the great orb of the stage. It was also the first time I've seen a horse on stage that looked like it was part of the action. It was Napoleon's white steed, and the scene was the burning of Moscow by the Muscovites to thwart the invader. Napoleon sings something to the effect of "They're burning down their own wonderful town. What barbarians!" And he goes trudging off sadly on his horse. In addition to the dramatic fire, there was a raging snowstorm that made the NYCB Nutcracker snowfall seem like less than a flurry. The cast was uniformly superb. Dimitri Hvorostovsky of the silvery locks and resonant baritone was a touching Andrei and Anna Netrebko really looked the part of Natasha and sang magnificently. As did everyone -- there are some sixty singing parts and I didn't detect a single weak link. Though the cast was mostly Russian, Samuel Ramey as Field Marshal Kutuzov deserves special mention. The night I was there he got the biggest ovations of all. The dancing seemed negligible. For the record, there was a Columbine, Rachel Schuette, a Harlequin, Warren Adams, and a Character Bellerina, Kelly Ebsary. The choreographer was Sergey Gritsay. But the most dramatic choreographic moment for me came toward the end of the opera when Andrei rises from his deathbed to begin a final waltz with Natasha and after a few steps, collapses at her feet. Prokofiev's music rises to stirring heights in the patriotic choruses of Part Two. But it fails to rise to the occasion in the scenes between Andrei and Natasha. There are no soaring romantic melodies. The program describes the work as an "Opera in Thirteen Lyrico-dramatic Scenes and a Choral Epigraph." The evening began on time at 7:30 and ended at about 11:50. There was one intermission. I felt that about half an hour could have been cut without serious damage, but the fact is I enjoyed almost every minute.

I saw twelve performances during the NYCB post-Nutcracker winter season, so I guess that qualifies me to have an opinion. On the whole I was happy. For me the best night was Friday, Feb 8, when the program was Allegro Brillante, Morgen, and Serenade, the latter two ravishingly conducted by Andrea Quinn. Parenthetically, I don't understand why most NYCB programs nowadays are divided between two or three conductors. Has musical specialization gone that far? Anyhow, Ansanelli and Woetzel were wonderful in the Allegro, and during the rest of the evening everybody else, including Jessica Jones, the soprano in Morgen, was inspired. You might say this was the season that Ansanelli finally came into her own, so I was distressed to see her fall flat on her face in Ancient Airs and Dances, during the last performance I attended, Feb 22. But she got right up again, seemingly unhurt. Another bad Ansanelli moment for me, through no fault of hers, was a performance of Faun with Damian, when a cell phone rang in the second ring -- and rang and rang and rang. The continuing absence of Monique Meunier, a dancer whose inner fire and commitment shine through everything she does, was cause for unhappiness. The practice of eliminating intermissions reached laughable proportions toward the end of the season, when Fancy Free and Episodes were performed with no intermission between them -- just a pause -- a very, very long pause, since the set for Fancy Free had to be struck. Somebody's not thinking clearly. The best and worst new ballets of the season were by Peter Martins, Hallelujah Junction and Concerto for Strings, respectively. I didn't see Viva Verdi, but had seen it last summer (in Saratoga, not Parma) and thought it a lot better than Concerto for Strings. It's unfair to single out favorite dancers, but I will anyway: Maria Kowroski, Wendy Whelan, Ashley Bouder, Rachel Rutherford, James Fayette, Charles Askegard, Peter Boal, and Daniel Ulbricht, the Tom Gold of the future. [ February 27, 2002, 05:42 PM: Message edited by: Farrell Fan ]

NYCB also had Peter and Paul Frame, Lisa and Alexia Hess, Francis and Paul Sackett, David and William Otto, Leslie and Melinda Roy, Romy and Zippora Karz. Currently on the roster are Kurt and Kyle Froman, and Jonathan and Abi Stafford. There might be another Otto that I'm missing. I could never tell the Sacketts or Frames apart. Paul Frame's (or was it Peter's?) finest hour at NYCB came in Episodes, when he danced the restored Paul Taylor variation, which has now disappeared again. Except in the case of Gelsey and Johnna Kirkland, who were quite different dancers, I didn't compare the siblings but thought of them as a package. [ February 25, 2002: Message edited by: Farrell Fan ]

According to "Choreography by George Balanchine: A Catalogue of Works," it was based on Vera Zorina in The Goldwyn Follies: "In the Water Nymph Ballet, Zorina rises out of a pool; this dance was later the model for the dance of the hippos and ostriches (to the Dance of the Hours from La Gioconda)in Walt Disney's film Fantasia."

I assume the format is like that of the Motion Picture Academy Awards, so we're talking about work done in 2001, making both Organon and Polyphonia eligible.

On an earlier thread, I picked Morgen as the best new ballet, but after further viewings, I'm changing my vote to Polyphonia. Calliope, your classification of Best Ballerina (or female lead) allows you to chose Ansanelli, but with all due respect (to both you and Ansanelli)I don't think that category is Kosher. I choose Julie Kent. Best supporting ballerina -- Ashley Bouder Best male danseur -- Ethan Stiefel Best supporting danseur -- Giuseppe Picone Best choreographer -- Christopher Wheeldon Best director of a company (thanks for the gimme, Calliope) -- Suzanne Farrell Best special effects -- the Pied Piper (was that last year?) Best lighting -- Hallelujah Junction Best score -- Morgen Lifetime Achievement -- Frederic Franklin [ February 21, 2002: Message edited by: Farrell Fan ]

Crying at a movie or play is nothing unusual. But I wonder if many ballet fans get as weepy as I do. I'm not talking about tears of frustration at a bad performance or of happiness at a glorious one by a favorite dancer. I'm talking about moments in certain ballets that automatically push the sob button. Every time the tree starts growing in Nutcracker, I get misty-eyed. It also happens in Apollo, when the reclining muses each offer a foot to Apollo and then reach their arms up to be lifted by him. And in Serenade after the waltz ends and five women are left alone, descend to the stage floor and turn toward one another. The seventh variation in Theme and Variations, with the corps women supporting the ballerina also does it for me. What about you? Non-Balanchine ballets also count.

Calliope, what was the reason given by those NYCB Guild members, or former members, why they are contributing to SAB but not NYCB? Personally, I like giving to SAB better, but I also give to NYCB. I'm sure they need the money. Besides, the same guy runs both organizations, as Chairman of Faculty and Ballet Master in Chief. My "Subscriber Remarks" this year concerned the early Tuesday curtain and fewer intermissions. I dislike both. In recent years, I've had nothing to say. But following Martins' firing of Suzanne in 1993, for a couple of seasons I wrote: "SHAME! SHAME! BRING BACK SUZANNE FARRELL!" I got a letter and a phone call in response, thanking me for my opinion. As it turned out, getting fired from NYCB was not a bad thing for SF at all.

This review was great, a lot of fun to read. Thanks. Albert Evans leads the "character" dancers in "Cortege Hongrois" and looks somewhat uncomfortable wearing the Ter-Aurutunian costume with the funny hat.

From my extremely limited perspective, my anecdotal impression is that the NYCB audience is getting older and the NYCOpera audience younger. Why this is so I haven't a clue, and I would hate to have a survey to determine why. In fact, the next time someone hands me a form to fill out with one of those nasty pencil stubs at the New York State Theater, I will not be responsible for my actions.

I think Pocohontas was one of many historical and legendary characters who were supposed to be in Balanchine's "Birds of America," Kirstein's proposed "Great American Ballet." It was discussed for forty years but never came to fruition. I quote from Bernard Taper's biography of Balanchine: "It was to be a heroic, three-act spectacle with the naturalist John James Audubon posited as the lost son of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, as its emblematic central figure. Somehow or other the Audubon-Dauphin character was also to be Johnny Appleseed as well as Buffalo Bill, and any number of American themes, settings, and legends were to be figured forth... Karinska had sketched some of the costumes. Rouben Ter-Arutunian had designed sets. Balanchine had speculated on dance possibilities and whom he might cast. His first choice for Pocohontas, naturally, had been Maria Tallchief." Years after Tallchief's retirement, the ballet was still being talked about. In fact, during Mr. B's final illness, Morton Gould visited him in the hospital and brought a tape of some of the music he'd composed for "The Birds of America." Taper reports, "Balanchine listened and said it was nice. They talked about the ballet a little. Then Balanchine, who was under sedation, fell asleep."

When Balanchine's "Slaughter on Tenth Avenue" came to NYCB in 1968, Clive Barnes called it "an oddly puerile work to put into a ballet repertory." Though I can't quote specific reviews, the prevailing opinion on Robbins' "I'm Old Fashioned" was (and perhaps still is) that the NYCB dancers were no match for Astaire and Hayworth on the screen. Morton Gould's score was also panned. And Martins' "Barber Violin Concerto" was lambasted for presenting a supposedly stereotyped view of the differences between ballet and modern dance. All three were instant audience favorites, and remain popular. I confess I love them all. How do you feel about them? And what are some other critically unworthy, even "puerile" works you admit to liking a lot?

Thanks for the gentle correction on Hlinka's flower shower, Leigh. I was there, too -- the neurons are fading, no doubt about it. Not to belabor this subject, but perhaps the grandest farewell any NYCB ballerina ever had was Melissa Hayden's. It lasted for most of her final season, Spring of 1973. Balanchine did a ballet for her, "Cortege Hongrois," which she performed several times. The surprising thing is that it remains in the repertory to this day, even though it was thought of at the time as a piece d'occasion. Balanchine brought out the flowers himself -- I know because there are photographs. On the other hand, there are NYCB ballerinas who never had a gala or so much as a "See ya around." Maria Calegari, anyone?

Suzanne's memoir is no help in elucidating NYCB policy on farewell galas. She says "It was decided that my farewell would be on November 26, 1989. I was to perform two ballets, Vienna Waltzes and Sophisticated Lady." I guess it depends on what the meaning of "It" is. Incidentally, "Sophisticated Lady" had been choreographed by Martins for the American Music Festival in the Spring, 1988 season. I saw it then as well as at the farewell. It was a sweet piece to Duke Ellington music in an arrangement by Andre Kostelanetz, if you can imagine such an odd coupling. Peter came out of his dancing retirement to perform it with Suzanne. There was a corps of sixteen men in black tie, including the choreographer's son. The Ellington songs in addition to the title one were "Solitude," and "Don't Get Around Much Anymore," the latter of which brought down the house, but was perversely omitted from a subsequent PBS show. White thornless roses rained down on Suzanne after the curtain came down on Vienna Waltzes. Pink roses descended on Patty McBride after her farewell. To the best of my recollection, no comparable flower shower had occurred between then and the carnations of Tracey's farewell.

What an extraordinary thing to say after being with NYCB for sixteen years -- that it would be "presumptuous" to dance Balanchine at her farewell! In any event, I'm happy too that Margaret got to do "Scotch Symphony." I'm just sorry I wasn't there to see it.

Thanks for the reports. I'm a bit puzzled, though. When Tracey's farewell performance was first announced, wasn't it the case that she was supposed to dance "Scotch Symphony" as well as "Zakouski"? Am I wrong about this? I know that more recently, "Zakouski" was the only thing mentioned, which is why I decided to pass on the performance. So I wound up screwed once again by the Martins regime. I'm glad to hear that Margaret exhibited daring, because in recent years that's the quality that's been most missing in NYCB's "Scotch." I think it's one of the Balanchine ballets that's changed most since Mr. B's passing.

Amen to all that's been said about the wonderful Ansanelli. It was a great moment when the audience prompted that third curtain call. Such moments are rare at NYCB. But in my opinion, the entire evening was rare -- perhaps the best overall night of dancing I've experienced this winter at NYCB. Peter Martins' "Morgen" is one of his better ballets, to those sublime Richard Strauss songs, and Darci, Ringer, and the fearless Janie Taylor, together with James Fayette, Nilas, and Jock, did splendidly by it. "Serenade" was also given an inspired performance, with Borree, Kowroski, Gitte Lindstrom, Askegard, and Fayette. What was interesting to me all night was the audience reaction. There was an audible gasp followed by applause when the curtain went up on "Serenade." I hadn't heard that in a long time. Apparently, many in attendance were new to the work and maybe to ballet generally. If so NYCB must have made a few converts last night. And Andrea Quinn's conducting was masterly in "Morgen" and "Serenade." It occurred to me that with "Morgen" likely to stay in the repertory for a while, NYCB can now offer a variety of programs covering Morgen, Afternoon, and Nacht. [ February 09, 2002: Message edited by: Farrell Fan ]

There's also the terminally bored Prince Orlovsky in Die Fledermaus, who throws big parties to amuse himself. The aria "Chacun a son gouts" (sp?)takes on an extra dimension when sung by a mezzo soprano wearing a pencil-thin mustache. However, New York City Opera sometimes used to cast a baritone in the part, notably Donald Gramm. There's a nice pants part in Verdi's "Ballo in Maschera" -- Oscar the page, usually sung by a perky soprano of the Roberta Peters type.

I missed Pat McBride, too, but during her time in NYCB, she was "best friends" with Tanaquil Le Clercq. She was a speaker at the NYCB memorial for Tanny last May, when her name appeared on the program as Patricia McBride Lousada, thereby confusing many people in the audience. She was among the contributors, as Pat McBride Lousada, to "Remembering Tanaquil Le Clercq" in the Summer 2001 issue of Ballet Review. That section also contains two wonderful photographs of Tanny and Pat, in fashions of the 1940s. It also contains excerpts from four letters Le Clercq wrote to McBride from Paris in 1949.

Delia Peters indeed was a witty dancer. Her girl in green remains unmatched, in my opinion. She certainly was no beauty in the way Rachel Rutherford is. But I think Calliope's linking the two had to do with their status as "special" corps members within the NYCB heirarchy -- not to any physical similarities. Nevertheless, Peters was very attractive -- and the 1980 NYCB souvenir book contains a small, stunning photograph of her by Arthur`Elgort, who apparently saw her as glamorous. Joseph Mazo's 1974 book, Dance is a Contact Sport, has a lot in it about Peters. At that time she'd been in the corps for ten years. I think she remained in it for ten more. Mazo portrays her as someone who had a life outside the theater and whose friends mostly had nothing to do with ballet. "She is a dancer, not A DANCER," is how he puts it. Whether or not this was the case, it's a fact that for many of those years she was in the corps, she was also going to college, and then to Fordham Law School across the street from Lincoln Center. She did become a lawyer, and after she'd left the company and joined a law firm, she could sometimes be seen on the promenade in the company of men in pinstripe suits.

Thanks for the comment, Calliope. The comparison of Delia Peters to Rachel Rutherford is a good one.