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Leigh Witchel

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Everything posted by Leigh Witchel

  1. I land pretty squarely in the anti-competition camp, but I will say, having seen the Bruhn Competition in Canada, that as competitions go, it's not a pernicious one - the dancers are already in companies, and are being judged by the artistic directors of the participating companies (each refraining from judging his or her own contestants) It seemed less like a competition and more like a way to begin to exhibit dancers the directors hoped to promote.
  2. Well, Jeannie, I'm not sure if Eifman is today's great modern-ballet choreographer. He's certainly the great modern-ballet choreographer of 1953. Eifman works in a vocabulary and narrative style discarded by western choreographers decades ago. I applaud Kisselgoff's kindness in attributing what I consider re-inventing the wheel to artistic courage, but I find the artistic naivete of Eifman unwatchable. It isn't Macmillan that he reminds me of, but Bejart. The same theatrical devices, only far staler, the same grandiose pretentiousness of thought, the same lack of logic and acuity to back the pretensions up. What artist in their right mind would have Tchaikovsky played by two seperate characters after we have seen this device done to death by Bejart? What dramaturge would assume that characterizations not created by Tchaikovsky but by Petipa and his librettists would have *any* resonance in Tchaikovsky's life? I certainly understand the presence in the ballet of von Meck and Milukova, but DROSSELMEIER? Prince Desire? Who, mind you, was lying on the floor in a white classical tunic, and whom Tchaikovsky's double awoke by kissing on the lips. It's a wonder he didn't try to slip him any tongue. I slid under my seat, howling with laughter. Yes, there are some good dancers and dancing within the company, but not enough to save the choreographer from his own inanity. Nor do I doubt Eifman's seriousness of purpose, I believe he thinks he is saying something of importance. But this is not an adolescent boy, this is a middle aged man. All the sincerity in the world cannot save the naivete of his concepts and the juvenile nature of his artistic vision. [This message has been edited by Leigh Witchel (edited March 27, 1999).]
  3. I take a somewhat unorthodox stance towards dance writing, trying to veer away from the review and towards the essay. I do this for practical purposes, it's impolitic for me to review my colleagues. However, there's more to it than that. I began writing because I wanted to do what I could to ensure that there was an audience that saw the things I thought were important in ballet (the structure and form of the dance) When I write on a performance, I try and speak of it in terms of a greater choreographic issue - an example from my site might be the piece on "Non-Bournonville Bournonville." In conclusion, I think all dance writers are dance lovers, and much as I say I *try* not to make qualitative judgments, they sneak in, because I write for myself as a record of what I saw. To see a more in depth essay on what I look at in a dance - I refer you to an essay on my site, "Looking at Dance, Looking at Dancers." http://members.aol.com/lwitchel/looking.htm
  4. Great idea! I think Vanessa Redgrave would be phenomenal as Baryshnikov.
  5. Alexandra - We see eye to eye on "changes here and changes there." That's usually not updating, that's usually deterioration. I'm less distressed by someone creating a parallel version, as I said, unless it is meant to supplant the baseline version. Here's an odd situation. At NYCB, we're about to get a new Swan lake by Martins. Will it live alongside the Balanchine version?(which really is a variant in and of itself, except within the Balanchine canon) I'm sure that any Swan Lake seen at NYCB is going to feel like a variant to those familiar with a more traditional production!
  6. Just like any other audience members, I've met few reviewers who were impartial, but it's certainly not the tickets that makes them so. I think one must consider the position of a professional reviewer versus those of us (myself included) who review on occasion. It's a reviewer's job to have a broadbased knowledge of what s/he sees, to provide reportage and coverage of events they might not see were it their own choice, to actively seek out new artists and performances. It's not just to write about what they would like to see or inflames their curiosity. I have immense respect for the reviewers in dance who have to turn in daily copy and wouldn't trade places with them for the universe. Professional reviewers get complimentary tickets, because they are working. It's not a busman's holiday for the majority of them. I've used my press credentials to see new work, but nowadays, especially for major companies and events in NYC right now, if you're not an editor - or you're not on assignment, you don't get tickets. [This message has been edited by Leigh Witchel (edited 03-23-99).]
  7. I think I'm a moderate on this issue. I don't mind the updating or revision of a classic (ie Mats Ek's Giselle which takes it out of the realm of ballet entirely) if it is presented as a variant. The Ek Giselle is meant to be a parallel creation to the Perrot/Coralli version, they pretty much intersect only at the music (Actually, I've never seen the Ek version, and would be very much interested in seeing it.) I mind very much when the new versions supplant the baseline version. If the Ek version and "modern" Giselles and Swan Lakes become the baseline, then something is very wrong. It's not healthy for an art form when someone takes the branch of a tree and tries to make it function as a trunk.
  8. Oh boy - the taxonomy of this one seems to be pure hell. I appreciate the definitions received here, but feel that we've all had to formulate them as we go. Via email, Alexandra and I were trying to discern a difference between formalism, structualism and classicism. I know I've used the terms interchangeably, having called Cunningham a classicist where Alexandra would call him a formalist. Alas, I have to admit, I think I'm even less comfortable with the term than before! Let me repose a question. Is there a concrete definition for "classical" or classicism in another art form, ie architecture? Is some of that applicable to ballet? [This message has been edited by Leigh Witchel (edited 03-21-99).]
  9. Actually, one of the most delightfully irreverent comments I ever heard about ballet was from a very nice man and a ballet lover watching a school's production of the entree for the adagio in La Bayadere. As they all tromped out dutifully one by one, he leaned over to me and whispered, "It's like clowns coming out of a Volkswagon." Needless to say, I now find it hard to watch the Kingdom of the Shades scene without at least a wry smile.
  10. I thought this would be an amusing topic, although I think I'm asking for a mini-lecture rather than a discussion. Our fair moderator proved to be very informative when this topic came up on alt.arts.ballet about a year ago. How about some definitions here? I find I often use the word "classical" to describe "something with qualities that I happen to find attractive". This is not going to work as a useful definition I bet. What is classicism or classical? What makes ballet "classical?" What is the intersection with other forms of "classical" dance? And with other forms of "classical" art (such as architecture, painting, sculpture) Who is a classicist, and why? I'd love to be able to use the word correctly for a change!
  11. Giannina's post gives me an opportunity to make a distinction. Let's use the "semaphore arms" metaphor I was thinking of in Concerto Barocco: "In the first movement the corps de ballet flashed their arms en haut and en bas as if it were semaphore, or a signal beamed from outer space." (I didn't quote it from anyone, just made it up.) This might be a fanciful metaphor, but it would make me watch for that spot in the choreography, and perhaps even see it a new way - especially if I feel the metaphor is apt. I'm a writer at heart, as well as a choreographer, so the use of metaphor is very enjoyable to me. Of course, that enjoyment depends upon the skill of the writer. I tend to enjoy my own metaphors, because I usually find myself in agreement with them! Here's a variation of the same sentence. "The rapid arm movement of the corps de ballet is a message in semaphore from Balanchine to the audience." Umm, no it's not. It's what the writer saw. Apologies for the dubious ability of the above passage to illustrate my point, but I don't mind the writer or the audience viewing a work metaphorically. One of the best things about a work like Concerto Barocco is that it can be looked out on many different levels. I certainly don't mind it if you just look at the legs and feet, Giannina! That's why dancers have become so technically proficient, because there is pleasure in beautiful execution. But I do think that it is also a tremendous pleasure to look at *more* than what's in front of you - just so long as you don't lose track of what's actually there. I mind very much when the author forgets that he or she is the one doing the interepreting, not the choreographer. [This message has been edited by Leigh Witchel (edited 03-10-99).]
  12. I'm going to respond to a remark Giannina made in the "The Patient is Breathing Thread" about her confusion with Edwin Denby, but I think the discussion merits a new thread. Giannina asks if Denby was seeing something she wasn't, or if he was making things up as he sees them, when watching a work, and that sort of analysis would take the fun out of watching for her. It's a different way of looking at a ballet, but I've always felt that my viewing methods were indelibly formed by the triumverate of Denby, Kirstein and Croce, as well as my own education. One may have quarrels with them, but I can attest that they can teach you to watch ballet and see more. I think that all art should be viewed on an associative level, and the three above are masters of that. What are you looking at? What does it recall? What links can be made to other artists or artistic trends, past, present or future? Where does it take you? I'm not saying that a writer should let their fancies overtake them. The last thing I want to read about is what is going through a writer's mind as s/he watches a ballet. I could care less. I want to read about what is on the stage in front of the writer, and what I might take with me when I next view the work. It interests me very much to hear that a port des bras in Concerto Barocco might look to the viewer like semaphore, as if a signal were being broadcast. This forces me to connect with the choreography itself, and ask why the author might have thought that (and also to recall what semaphore is!) It interests me a lot less to hear the imagined thoughts of the ballerina or the choreographer. This connects me with the author's own agenda, and not much more. The point where interpretation becomes personal fancy is a very fine line, but I don't think Denby crossed it. It is certainly no fun to be a hypercritical viewer, and I have to guard against my dance training taking the fun out of going to the ballet (it's too easy for me to fixate on feet or knees) But I find that watching dance in an interdisciplinary way, and making associations richens the viewing indescribably for me. I've talked more about my opinions of the authors above in other places, but I thought I'd open the field to discussion. Has anyone else found writers that helped them see the choreography more clearly? What sort of analysis is helpful to you as a viewer?
  13. [Administrator's note: the preceding and subsequent posts disappeared during a move; this post and several following posts were in response to those missing posts. A.T.] Before this degenerates into a miasma, I thought I'd clarify a point quoted slightly out of context. I am not sneering at Forsythe when I say I haven't seen an adagio from him. I'm saying that in 12 years of watching any of his work when it comes to America I haven't seen an adagio from him. By adagio I don't mean something that is slow. I mean something that uses the adagio vocabulary as opposed to the allegro vocabulary of ballet. There's little of Forsythe's work I've seen that I haven't admired. But the issue raised here was its relation to classical ballet. And Forsythe's choreography suggests that he takes the portion of classical ballet that suits his purposes - which is a segment of it and leaves the rest unused. If one sees this as where ballet is heading, we are leaving massive portions of it to atrophy, putting it on a diet of shrapnel and water. This makes Forsythe no less of an artist. But to see him as the standard bearer of ballet post-Balanchine is, in my opinion, erroneous. That having been said, I also very much agree with your final assessment of the dearth of ballet choreographers being due to the absence of any training in composition. One of the greatest things to happen to choreography in this century was Balanchine. Also, one of the worst things to happen to choreography in this century was Balanchine - he cast a long, crippling shadow. There is little use in emulating his process slavishly, genius has its own rules. His insistence against interpretation of his ballets has been taken so literally by those following that we now really have seen ballets about "nothing at all." A tenet of modernism has calcified into dogma. One cannot teach genius, as I stated in a post elsewhere, I believe the parthenogenesis of genius. But when can teach craft, and we can teach composition, and not all learning needs to be "on the job" because that's they way Mr. B did it.
  14. One reason there always seemed to be less female choreographers than male was that women are generally socialized not to take authority in situations (very broad generalization, but often true in ballet). An ability to get someone else to do what you tell them is essential to a choreographer, and it's often bred out of a dancer. Many men come to ballet late and for that and other reasons, are more comfortable with either seeking or taking authority (I'm not saying better at it. Just more apt to try it.)
  15. I'm going to digress a bit (my apologies.) When telling the story of her friend who disliked both Giselle and Agon, Libby touched on the problem ballet has to face in the current times, which is a distrust of interpretation. Her friend wasn't willing to believe that he had sufficient resources at hand (his own eyes, ears and mind) to make sense of what he was seeing. It was as if there might be some sort of test, and the answers were being withheld. I may sound like I'm dismissing the problem, but I don't think ballet needs to change to become more obvious, but that people need to be made less afraid of interpretation. Certainly art is enriched with background knowledge, but it can also stand on its own. It reminds me of the times I catch myself in museums reading the comments next to the pictures more than I've even looked at the paintings. . . (there's an essay on this at my website - http://members.aol.com/lwitchel/interp.htm)
  16. I'm in the midst of doing an article on Forsythe right now, and so it's hard for me to define my thoughts on the matter, which are very divided. I'm impressed with his work. I recognize classical ballet used within it. I think it's neither his major interest nor focus. Forsythe as an artist should follow his muse, and does very well, but I find it distressing when other people refer to him as the future of ballet. I've been watching his work for more than a decade now, and it is distinguished, but only operates within a small segment of the repertory. I've never seen an adagio, for instance. About two years ago on a.a.b we were batting around an analogy of ballet repertory as a tree. We were seeing a lot of branches, we needed to see more people nourishing the trunk. At the same time, to use Balanchine as an example, he wasn't a conservationist, he was a Janus figure, looking both backwards and forwards. His conservation of ballet was a by-product of his omnivorous attitutde toward repertory, not the other way around. He did what interested him, he changed what suited him, his first concern was not "ballet", but his own expression. It's hard for me to talk more clearly about this issue, because I feel like I'm living inside of it (both in terms of writing and choreography), rather than looking at it from any objective distance!
  17. Alexandra - I recall some trenchant observations you made on the subject once before on a.a.b. where you said that works from someone with a classical background tended to look classical no matter where they wandered, while works frm someone with an "eclectic" background tended to look eclectic no matter how hard they tried. I'm sure there are exceptions, but it's also often quite true. However, in defense of ballet moderne, there are things I'd love to see ballet learn from contemporary choreographers; most especially a more thoughtful process of choreography. We can't go on much longer just putting steps together and calling it abstract. There's got to be some intellectual force behind it. What I'd rather we didn't borrow is the sort of heated up sensation that modern ballet seems to subsist on nowadays. I really prefer not to see another violent vision of the apocalypse in toe shoes.
  18. Some of mine are also from Giselle (which has obviously endured because of its strange magic). One is when Hilarion grabs the hunting horn, and blows it, and from a distance, an answering call is heard. And we all know that the entire house of cards is going to fall, slowly, inexorably, and nothing can be done to stop it. The other moment which gives me shivers in Giselle is most of the Wili's dance in Act II, especially the slow, implacable travelling arabesques, and then Myrtha soaring out from behind them. But since for me, EVERYTHING seems to return to Balanchine, I might as well mention the final moment in Serenade where the "Waltz Girl" is about to be lifted into the air. Watch the 1988 tape of Dance in America with Kistler doing the part. It will tear your heart out.
  19. I've gotten to a point where I can only judge a dancer through repertory. I think Carreno is extraordinary in Petipa. I've also seen him in Fancy Free, and he was quite good. But I'm not sure how he'd look in Balanchine. He's built more for stability than speed. I'd like to throw out the name of someone at NYCB to watch, Charles Askegard, who was good when he entered the company, but since then has made even more gratifying strides. When I saw him at ABT, he was an accomplished Petipa dancer. It must have taken incredible effort, courage and commitment to be willing to alter his style to suit the Balanchine he now performs. His leg lines have improved markedly and he is a much more musically acute dancer. He's built like Adam Luders, and is similarly an excellent partner - and probably the best import into the company since Luders.
  20. Being a self-interested choreographer, I'll note that my judgments about great dancers are essentially a function of the repertory they dance. I don't mind if a dancer is great in only a slice of the repertory, they're still great. And to be heretical, I'll say that the three-act classics are in my book, only a slice of the repertory! With that in mind, I'm going to stick up for Damien Woetzel as a great dancer, and in a wide swath of repertory. Unlike Boal, he isn't a poet, but he fakes a prince awfully well. His technique is so natural that he has to guard against becoming bored by it, and he does the extroverted repertory that is uncongenial to Boal. This is no slight to Boal, whom I have always admired, and I'm with you on including him in a list of great dancers. One dancer whom I'd like to mention as a "could have been" was Jeffrey Edwards at NYCB. Like Boal, he was a Poet - but started to lose roles to Ethan Steifel when Steifel was rising in NYCB, and then Edwards left the company. Which was a shame because Edwards was less technical than Steifel, but had tremendous artistic depth. I'm sure we can all remember with a small twinge the "could have beens" There are many.
  21. Hello Alexandra and others! I finally remembered to visit (my account on panix doesn't have a browser.) I dearly loved Makarova when she was dancing, but I'll name some current favorites, as well as one recently retired. Nichol Hlinka was the most underrated ballerina at NYCB, probably because her greatest achievements came at the end of her career, and seemingly out of nowhere. Suddenly she blossomed from being a proficient but not that tasteful dancer to being a ballerina, doing one "textbook" performance after another in roles I had previously thought her indifferent. It was lovely to see that sort of Indian Summer. I don't know how much more Darci Kistler we will have, it looks like injury may finally overtake her. Of all the women I've seen do Agon (live rather than on tape) hers is my favorite. She is a dancer who is inhabited by choreography. It's a rather frightening gift. Anyone who has read my website knows who the next one is going to be. Miranda Weese. She's going to be bearing the brunt of NYCB's repertory for the next decade, it seems.
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