Michael

Flipsy -- I have a preliminary question on your specific example of Ansanelli last night and then a comment on your wider question, which does not depend anyhow on your response to last night's performance of Concerto for Two Pianos. Re last night, I also saw the Martins - and I agree - I was struck with Ansanelli's lack of consistency in the role (which is why I called her performance idiosyncratic). What I noticed was that, amidst prolonged passages of the strongest sensuality, or psycho-pseudo-sexuality, she would suddenly go "cutsey," come out of character as it were, and give a goofy, ingenue, insouciante smile either to her partners on stage or to the audience. This mode would last some seconds. Then back to the hardcore grind. My question is, was this Martins' intent, was it coached, or was it simply Alexandra? Because I've seen Alexandra do that kind of thing before. It's speculation, but if Janie Taylor hadn't been hurt, I wouldn't have been at all surprised to see Taylor in that role last night instead of Ansanelli. So what we had may have been Ansanelli dancing Taylor dancing ... who, Heather Watts? This is very old vintage Martins, debuted in 1983 according to the program. The larger question is unaffected, however. I reckon that the lack of development in these Ballets is the trap of formalism. If you have an estalished story Ballet, you have the outlines of character development. It was the peculiar talent of George Balanchine that, in merely responding the musical themes and what they conjured up in him by association, or in "glossing" upon the Petipa-Fokine classics, he could conjure up an entire world of action and leave you with a kind of hieroglyph into which you, the viewer, would read a great deal of content. Everyone has their plot to most Balanchine Ballets. But that was almost a unique genius. In the hands of people less skilled, or imaginative, or schooled in the dance schools of the 19th century than Balanchine, or all three of these -- in the hands of almost all Balanchine's contemporaries and of nearly everyone who has succeeded him -- this recipe has proved most sterile. The imitation of Balanchine, his ghost, is mainly what ails contemporary classical Ballet. Not just Martins, I've never seen a Tanner Ballet, or a Ballet by the guy who just died (what's his name, my mind is a sieve) or a Wheeldon Ballet, or a Diamond Project piece by anyone whomsoever, that had Balanchine's resonance. Hundreds have attempted. That plus the quest to be "modern," meaning MacMillan-esque has been fatal even in story Ballets. Thus revise - it is the ghosts of Balanchine and MacMillan who damn modern Ballet in both of its main streams. Reading the descriptions of Chris Wheeldon's Swan Lake for Pennsylvania, I couldn't help wonder Why in Hell someone with the schooling and knowledge of Chris Wheeldon couldn't just have made a straightforward Swan Lake? Probably because he was expected to deliver something new and by that it had to be cute, pastiche-like, intellectually clever, solipsicistic or something. There is plenty of room right now for somone just to stage a good La Sylphide. The Soviet inspired physical high-jinks which would inseminate creativity into Ballet from the world of Ice Skating seem almost a source of creativity in the face of this. Which is why I don't mind ABT at all when they do this, however tasteless it seems, it is in my view comparatively harmless It's the Tribute to George Harrison I can't stand, but even that is I think less destructive than the endless lure of unsuccessful formalism.

Alas, Alexandra, I can't quite take full credit for either. The Muppets' analogy is Leigh's from DanceView Times and, as for the wrestling match, it's a paraphrase, rendered innocent and more innocuous, and I don't think anyone would want to be footnoted for the original. MP

Weese in Raymonda Miranda Weese is in the best shape (and the best dancing form) she has been in for three years. Since returning from injury two seasons ago she has not looked this good and, in fact, I don’t know that she is not in the best shape of her career. What a superb performance of Raymonda Variations last night. The difference between Miranda now and at the beginning of the Winter Season is the much greater amplitude, self-abandon and physicality of her dancing. At the beginning of Winter she was still dancing a little small at times, seeming at times a bit tentative or introspective even (as Leigh has said, seeming to have become a Contralto, as much as a Coloratura Soprano) – Not last night. It is as if she can fully trust her body now and just dance out her instincts for the first time in years, and what dance instincts they are. This was as physically ample and big a performance as you can imagine from any Ballerina, covering large amounts of ground when she needs to in a single step, boldly attacking and at the same time fluid and sensitive in her musical phrasing, and with her usual sublimely perfect lines. Her developee takes your breath away. In attitude, in fact at all times, the sculptural mass and displaced space of her body is perfectly centered and placed – so that, for example, in her attitude rear you see a beautifully cambered and arched back, from the hips to the shoulders, as the crucial center of the pose. The opening of pas de bourees in her Raymonda was liquid and beautifully inflected between short runs of two to three pas, then stepping big into space for a similar count, then back to the short staccato – all with instantaneous quickness. In adagio you can see, you can almost feel her breathe, it is unavoidable, surely this is the signature of a great Ballerina or of any great dancer. It is also difficult to remember that she was once considered a dry dancer, or a dancer dead in the upper body (remember the debate at the time of her televised P.Martins Swan Lake?) -- So full have her interpretive powers become. Weese danced wonderful Tschai Piano Concertos and Emeralds last Winter. She danced a strong, classical and quiet, Symphony in Three Movments last weekend. She has been superb in Who Cares this Spring. Her Theme and Variations has in the past been the best in the company and the finest within memory -- She will dance Theme three times this weekend, Friday Night, and the Saturday and Sunday Matinees. She is at the top of her powers right now. Bouder’s Firebird Elsewhere, Ashley Bouder had the final Firebird of the season last night. It was a wonderful performance of Firebird, both by her and by the company as a whole. A strong rendition of an emotionally elevating work. Firebird benefits from what I think Igor Stravinsky’s strongest, certainly his most harmonious and most musically accessible score. Despite some weakness in the production -– principally that which Leigh has identified in his formal review, that the monsters resemble the Muppets, so that one cannot really believe there is the least threat to the Prince and his Bride, you can’t really get worked up about a hero about to be pecked to death by the Muppets, hence no one for the Firebird really to rescue -- The company rendered the Ballet with strong emotional impact. This was due very much to James Fayette, who determinedly conveyed his role as if he really were threatened by a malign Supernatural Force and it really was the role of the Firebird to restore Harmony to the World through conquest of a Bestial order, to which she herself in fact belongs, through an act of generous sympathy or even empathetic grace towards the Prince. Though she, the Firebird, does not fully understand what she does. Bouder was great in this, the best Firebird within memory. Having seen her first two performances, when she was thrown into the role due to injury to Margaret Tracey (I believe?), some years ago (which were not merely great debuts but some of the finest Firebirds I’ve ever seen) the difference last night was a full effacement of herself in the character, a much stronger Pas de Deux with the Prince in the opening section, and in the so much more mature classical style she now embodies. The performance was flawless Bouder – as classically perfect as I’ve ever seen Ashley dance and that is saying something. The final long bouree about the stage, as she clears the stage of the monsters and restores Order to the World, was so quietly liquid that it was like watching a raindrop move upon a bit of sailcloth. The gift she has of slowing down and freezing movement was perfected deployed in these bourees so that the final thee or four pas’s, at the very exit, existed both independently and as members of the final series. Because the theme of Celestial Order Restored in the ballet as a whole worked, the final Wedding Scene, with its fanfare of horns, was emotionally elevating and moving. Andantino and Martins’ Concerto for Two Pianos Elsewhere, Peter Boal and Yvonne Borree danced a lyrical and dramatically compelling Andantino. Peter looks in marvelous shape, rested and vital. Borree had the performance of some years time, calling forth multiple ovations to loud Bravos from the house, it was good to see. Martins’ Concerto for Two Pianos got a very strong physical performance, at times a slightly idiosyncratic one, from Alexandra Ansanelli, partnered by Sebastien Marcovici and Amar Ramassar. Often in Martins' Ballets, I have the feeling that the dancers succeed despite the choreography and not because of it. Often I have the feeling that there are quite brilliant moments of dance, which surface and then disappear randomly in a sea of mere triteness or mere facility. I had both these feeling again while watching this Ballet. Alexandra gave a great performance. One wanted to cheer her vocally at the end -- but you couldn’t without cheering the thing as a whole. So you didn’t. Sebastien Marcovici seems to be cultivating something rather Louche in his appearance these days. About Amar Ramassar’s attempts to partner Ansanelli, the less said the better. It really did seem to be an animal wrestling match. I have great hopes for Ramassar, having watched him since he was a gangly kid with limbs too long for his body. He’s now physically something of a God, but still has an innocent air. That innocent goodness is his strength, his character and type, not something to be effaced. To cast him in this, in a frankly Louche groin thrusting role (Peter is never subtle, is he?), is casting completely against type and presumably the powers that be know what they are about (???). Apparently they think he is a Bollywood heavy. He is also an inexperienced partner and Alexandra, who likes to throw herself around a bit, needs the strongest partners. Marcovici handled her very very well.

It's been called to my attention by several now that Tschai Pas was made for Violette Verdi and in her prime. It was the Dance in America video of Patty McBride and Baryshnikov, she somewhat older at that time but the dance a most definite showcase for her talents at that moment, which I took for definitive, but which was far from the case. Thanks for the corrections.

Some Notes From Monday Night Murphy and Meunier in Ballet Imperial: Gillian Murphy’s Ballet Imperial was stunningly good – She was, it seems, both born and trained to dance this Ballet. (Good to hear that her pre-eminent teacher, Melissa Hayden, was in the house last night to see her handiwork – what a joy for a pedagogue I would think). Ballet Imperial, in Murphy’s and in Carlos Molina’s hands last night at least, had a lovely and fascinating but also strangely sad and elegiac air at moments, alternating with the passages of soaring grandeur. The dance seemed a dialogue between an Empress Queen and her Consort or Consort Emperor to be – but shot through with an unmistakable and mysterious air of sadness at moments. Why the sense of abandonment by Molina in the adagio as he stood alone on the stage, lifting his arms, the sense of a romantic tragedy barely avoided or barely atoned or unatoned for? The heart wrenching sense of impending loss which Murphy conveyed a few moments later when she progressed up the two long parting lines of the corps de ballet, in her entrance into the adagio, to enfold Molina in that penchee arabesque embrace with an expression which seemed to convey impending tragedy and loss more than it did recognition and imperial triumph? Either this was Odette’s departure rather than Ballet Imperial; an unconventional reading of the emotional content of this ballet; or whether the lesson of last night is that Ballet Imperial and Tschai Concerto #2 are two very different works, I cannot say. Murphy’s reading, however, was very moving and resonated extraordinarily well with the musical score, particularly during the adagio, and particularly with the very slow and emotional exploitation of the score at that point by the wonderful Pianist, Barbara Bilach. I have seldom heard the piano adagio played this well. That Murphy can turn (my God, the explosive acceleration and attack in those chainees in her final solo exit), and jump (my God again); that she possesses an extraordinarily poetic developpee, graced with the loveliest turn out and presentation of her working foot – I knew all that. But not that she could embody such a subtly emotional evanescence. Monique Meunier is indeed the most musical of dancers. She was a principal at City Ballet when Ashley Bouder was still in grade school. Her grasp and execution of the musical flow and phrasing of the second Ballerina role in Ballet Imperial last night took my breath away. Her physical presence does, however, to some degree distract from the artistic impression and, at that point, it is a fair matter of aesthetic criticism to say that I do think (and fully agree with others who have said) she could, and should, be able to get herself into better condition. Mozartiana: After a slightly flat Preghiera, Nina’s Mozartiana culminated with a beautifully inflected and joyously phrased series of female variations . As with Ballet Imperial, the emotional tone and content of Mozartiana was a little different than what I am used to, having come to know the work at City Ballet. At first I thought it a little disconcerting but finally quite lovely. This was a Mozartiana that seemed to have a heroine (Nina A) and a dramatic time and place. A Mozartiana set in a Ballroom somewhere in Russia, where a luminous but no longer young woman in a grey Tutu did not dance so much for the audience, for posterity or for God alone, as in the State Theater version, but more as part of a private drama with her partner (Angel Corella), which we were privileged to see, a very Russian and slightly giddy dialogue shot through at times with humour, at other times with almost an ecstatic joy. A reminder that the music is not Mozart, but a Russian Romantics gloss upon Mozart. Ananiashvili has, I think, lost some flexibility and range of motion over the past few years. She must be pushing forty, I would think. This is one of the very greatest roles for a mature Ballerina and I will remember it as one of her very greatest performances. Consistent with this, Jesus Pastor danced the most beautiful Gigue I have ever seen, refusing to treat the Gigue as the demi-character showpiece it is so often reduced to across the plaza (in the hands of Tom Gold, for instance). Pastor instead performed it with a restrained, almost an introspective elegance and grace, particularly in the repeats of a beautiful and relaxed attitude front, hand insouciant upon his hip, with a reverence for his small female corps de ballet. The stillness at those moments was not something I had imagined in this music. It seemed quite a different and quite a more beautiful dance than I am used to. Tschai Pas: Speaking of showpiece roles made for an ageing Ballerina (in this case Patty McBride), Ashley Tuttle certainly benefited from such a role in Tschai Pas de Deux, where she quite (or almost quite) kept up with Herman Cornejo’s histrionics. (Also speaking of Cornejo treating a role as a demi-character showpiece and nothing else). Dear Herman -- a wonderful dancer, and a terrible partner. The concluding counterpoint of dashes across the stage by the two principals, with each dash finishing with a fish dive by the female principal into the male principal’s waiting arms, he having reached and stopped at the appointed spot one musical phrase before her -- looked more like something from a hockey game than from a Ballet last night, a dash to see whether icing the puck would be called -- but it capped a rousing performance after all. Surely in some way the spirit of the piece, if not the letter, was well represented. Theme: Finally Wiles in Theme. Michelle Wiles has certainly grown into this role technically since last autumn’s performance at City Center, to the point where you can now say she is perfectly secure in Theme, which is no small thing to say. Last night she had the command of a principal dancer in this role. I did notice, though, as another difference from last fall and indeed, from everything I had previously seen her do, that she chose to project her affect in Theme last night as rather “Tragique-Grand-Opera,” substituting a mournful, emotionally moved and pained countenance, lifted towards the back of the theater, for the rather bright-girl-next-door smile which was previously her trademark. It’s dancing on a big scale and perhaps it works or perhaps it will work. As the above would indicate, however, I’m not so sure right now. Wiles also last night seemed to lack a little of the flexibility and the turn out I would like to see from the Ballerina in Theme. The repeated quiet passages from arabesque-to-passee-to-developpee-front and then back from developpee-front-through passee-to arabesque, and so on, with the corps of eight other girls supporting her, were quite beautiful. But in the big supported developpees to the side, to the swelling music, during the pas de deux, she neither got her working leg very extended (does she lack extension generally, I wondered last night?), nor did she really “develop” the leg upward (by which I mean present a flowing, unfolding motion – instead she just jerked the entire limb up there), nor finally did she present a well rotated out line of the inner thigh, calf and foot when she reached the top. One would like even to see a last or final little bit of rotation out at the end of the developpee, to frame it and end it, as it were, but no such luck. Given how much she seemed to struggle and tremble, earlier, failing to get into a good deep arabesque at the beginning of the passage where the eight girls turn her across themselves, I found myself wondering whether Wiles isn’t, after all, perhaps not the most flexible of dancers generally? Or was this just an off night for that quality? Later during the pas, Hallberg seemed to get her attention and to call a much more physical and engaged performance out of her. My sole real criticism of ABT in Theme, and in Mozariana too actually, involves the failure to cast the ballets well at the soloist level. A really good performance of Theme requires a really good performance from the first four female soloists. The casting here left much to be desired. It’s not that ABT does not possess the required talent, I think -- I could cast this myself in thirty seconds. It was, instead, that some rather odd choices seemed to have been made. A wonderful and memorable evening at the Theater. Wish they were all this good.

Try the Beacon, at Broadway between 74th and 75th, or the Olcott, on 72d Street between Broadway and Columbus. Call them and they'll give you prices, I'm sure. There's also a good small hotel on 76th or 77th Street, between West End and Broadway, though I can't remember the name right now (but could come up with it very easily).

I'm not sure I did find any structural integrity besides the performance. It's perhaps the very adventitiousness of it that I admire. The third section is totally inconsistent and out of place from a certain point of view. Random, as my kids would say. But that's fine, no other integrity is necessary, it just is now, it's the fact that it's put together that way historically that gives it that structure and that's all. If I had stayed to see "Who Cares," the Third Section of "Ivesiana" would have fit in just fine with one of the Jazzy sections there. But they call it one ballet and then another, because they put a pause in between .... Also I forgot to say just how fearless Janie Taylor's dive to the floor at the end of the "Unanswered Question" was. She goes over backwards head first, straight down from the shoulders of those men, and by Gosh plunges so fast I think they caught her about eighteen inches off the stage. What a moment, the girl holds absolutely nothing back. Not sure it was totally forseen how fast she'd go down. Both she and her partners seemed a little shaken up in the moments that followed it.

Ivesiana, Saturday 5/29 After a week away from the theater, I caught 2/3ds of the Saturday Matinee -- Western Symphony and Ivesiana. As always, the longer I go between performances, the more vivid my impressions, the more things seem to register, a good frame of mind to revisit Ivesiana, which I found moving, abstracted and strangely refreshing today, like dropping into cold, quiet and still water. This Ballet today seemed a small masterpiece, built around a series of three mysterious and one vivid emotional encounters, very dependent upon, and revealing of, the characters and perfumes of the dancers who perform in it. This is the first time I’ve seen this Ballet since the 50th anniversary season. Among the dancers, this was, first, of all the days since she joined the company two years ago with two glorious Nutcrackers –- the day to see Sofiane Sylve for me. There was, to begin with, a scintillating Third Movement in Western Symphony for her and Nikolai Hubbe, showing to just what a degree she moves large and physically, what an athletic, strong legged girl she is, with what a magnificent pliee. This was then followed by a vividly flavored and presented Section III, of Ivesiana, “In the Inn”, where she was paired with Albert Evans. The Third Movement of Ivesiana is an odd one, a suddenly well lit and boldy nuanced pas de deux for two dancers, male and female, to a fairly complex and relatively melodic Ives piano concerto score, inserted in the midst of three other movements which are more or less minimal, moody, atonally droning, obscure, haunted and dimly lit. In the First Section of Ivesiana, “Central Park in the Dark”, a large female corps de ballets floats in a half light, while a principal couple mysteriously encounter each other, couple and part, the woman seeming vulnerable and wounded, and then continue to look for something (perhaps each other) amongst the impersonal human detritus of the corps de ballet. The Second Section, “The Unanswered Question,” is the famous Allegra Kent role in which the woman principal is carried and manipulated by four men, for the most part just out of the reach of her yearning acolyte on the ground below, into whose coupling, folded grasp, however, she is placed at least once time. Taylor and Gold had this today. The mood continues allusive, haunted, somehow Kandinsky-esque and the lighting continues utterly dim. Then, with no warning, the Third Movement’s concerto erupts and what do we have here: Albert Evans and Sofiane Sylve -- he in a sort of late 1950’s preppy outfit (soft black shoes, dark polo shirt, dark hat and dark khaki-fabric pants), she in chiffon skirt and one piece bodice, very loose, revealing of what is beneath. Instead of half light, the stage is fully lit and, instead of the mysterious gestures of the principals towards each other which have marked the first two movements, we have a fully characterized pas de deux with ensemble dancing and at least two solo variations for each dancer, in which the dancers encounter each other vividly and fully, not with mysterious gestures. Evans’ and Sylve’s realizations of these characters were superb. Of the two, she was the more aggressive, first teasing him, then dismissing him, finally jumping his bones and fully enveloping him in a pliee from behind, while he was the more passive and almost the more feminine character, but oddly self sufficient and as it were taking refuge and retreat, when allowed to do so, into the Fred Astaire like gestures of 1940’s Art Deco jazz dance. Sylve is a ballerina with a great deal of perfume, although perhaps an analogy from the culinary realm is better employed. Today’s performance was strongly scented, tasted strongly, of Saffron and of Tarragon, and of the pines and salt air of her native Midi. One had no idea of what La Sylve and Mssr. Evans literally mean in any of this. It was, however, perfectly wonderful and perfectly set off the other three movements in this haunting and beautiful Ballet. Also in Ivesiana, I must mention that I thought, Jennifer Tinsley gave what I thought was one of the finest performances of her career as the Seeker in the “Central Park in the Dark” Section. Tinsley – in some former seasons underused or almost disappearing, it seemed -- has been quietly dancing up a storm this season, truly filling her soloist’s role in the company in performance after performance. That she has a strong, although not overwhelming, technical facility, we know. But this was surely the most strongly realized performance I have seen her give as a dramatic persona. On the physical side, the lighting accenting her hard and trained physicality, picking up the angles on her. Barefoot, she has beautiful, long feet. And having her hair down suits her. But what was even better was her ability to convey the emotional state of her character, whatever it may have been -- “After all, I can not really tell you who I am and you would not know by merely watching – but I am, and I am different, I am not you, and look at me, I bend, I couple, I pick my way through this foggy world,” her presence seemed to say, and I watched, that’s all. As I say, a serious performance by a serious dancer. Janie Taylor also danced (if you can call it that) an otherworldly, reckless, and almost a violently passive and sexually vulnerable “Unanswered Question,” which was a powerful sequel to her “Afternoon of a Faun” of a few weeks back. (Her character, as Tinsley’s, is barefoot and revealingly costumed in this, while La Sylve is in toe shoes in the Third Section). Taylor also is a dramatically vivid Ballerina, and this was, again, a hauntingly sensual and fully characterized performance. We haven’t seen much of Taylor this season but, in what we have seen, this sudden gain in dramatic weight, in the depth of personal presence that draws the eye and holds it, seems to be a very marked development in her talents. (I regret so much we did not see her get to dance the Stroman role last winter that was made on her. I bet she would have been remarkable in it. But we have many years to look forward to of great dancing from this girl. If an injury leads to the development of this kind of depth, perhaps there is a silver lining or at least some compensation in it after all). In Western Symphony, James Fayette danced a very fine First Movement, as full out as I’ve seen him move all season. I must say that the company as a whole was very well rehearsed in Western and it is remarkable that, when this is true, the Ballet looks good whether or not all the principal performances are perfect. Western Symphony looked very good indeed today. Alexandra Ansanelli and Robert Tewsley seem to be making strong gains in their confidence in each other as partners.

I do not remember ever seeing Ballo better performed and, knowing how the World goes, I don't expect ever to see this perfection again. Viva Merrill Ashley for the casting and for putting this piece into such perfect shape. It was extremely well rehearsed, the Heart and Spirit of the Ballet were so well represented -- corps de ballet, soloists and principals. I don't find Garcia raw at all. I find him, if possible, even more impressive than the impressive Ms. Feijoo. I'll trade him straight up for Angel Corella any time. Though I liked the clean performance of Sonnambula, I'm still waiting (year after year) for the company to convey a coherent dramatic reading of this Ballet. I always feel that the Coquette and the Party Goers appear too damn Nice in this production. The Poet is going to be murdered at this party. The party has to be a glittering exterior with a Corruption and Evil at its heart. It is subtler than La Valse but just as eerie. There are options for the Coquette -- she acts possibly out of vanity, possibly out of boredom, possibly out of sadism, but she does not fall in love with the Poet, that is too Nice a character. The Poet has similar options -- he can be toying with the Sonnambula, he can be an older man, a younger man -- but above all not too innocent. What after all is he doing with or to the Sleepwalker when they are alone upstairs? I got none of this from Boal and little from Ms. Sylve and I thought Fayette quite awful. It was, however, beautifully danced.

That's not fat on Carla Korbes, it's muscle. I think she's beautiful.

I thought that UNION JACK tonight, (SATURDAY), was one of the very best performances of the entire year, both Fall, Winter and Spring. It was not any one, two, three, six, seven or eight dancers -- It was instead the entire company, from the very newest apprentices to the most renowned principals, from the very top to the very bottom, dancing in such high good spirits that made it so. The sense of a defile of the entire corps de ballet and most of the principals. Wonderful performances from Ringer and Nilas Martins as the Pearly King and Queen. From Woetzel, Weese, Ansanelli, Soto, Whelan, Boal, Kowroski and others too.

Before it vanishes into oblivion, I thought I might mention that on Sunday Afternoon Miranda Weese followed her tour de force in Wheeldon's new piece, the first ballet on the program, with the finest First Movement of Brahms Schoenberg that I have ever seen. Steven Hannah partnered her superbly. Ellen Bar, who danced the second Ballerina role, also deserves the very highest praise for by far the best performance I've ever seen from her, but then it's also the most visible role she's ever had -- She is an extremely talented dancer. If this is what we see when we see her, by all means lets see more. In the Intermezzo, the guest appearance by Olivier Wevers and Noelani Pantastico also went extremely well. She is very demi character, appealing, strong technically, draws the eye. Wevers is a danseur noble type, rare enough these days, and partnered her very strongly. The two of them received a warm ovation. Alexandra Ansanelli and Ben Millepied had the third movement. He certainly has some ways to go in his partnering. Alexandra danced beautifully, but It Takes the Proverbial Two to Tango and, having seen how superb this was last Spring when Alexandra was cast with Peter Boal, one knows precisely what was missing. Ansanelli is in fact drawing the short straw on her partners these days. Saturday afternoon she had Tewsley in her pas de deux in Divertimento. Now Tewsely is showing himself to be a beautiful and noble danseur, but again somewhat limited in his partnering skills and there is a good deal of intricate and tricky partnering work in both Div. No. 15 and in the Andante in Brahms Schoenberg. The rest of the program saw a strong Kammermusik from Kowroski and Sylve and a compelling Debut from Janie Taylor (with Robert Tewsley) in Afternoon of a Faun. How glorious the fall of that blond hair. I undertand that Taylor was brilliant Friday Night in La Valse. Good, very good indeed, very very good, to see her back on stage.

The audience was very positive about the Ballet at today's Sunday matinee performance. The good things about it were, first, what seemed to be a strong musical score, a piano concerto commissioned, I believe, for this. It's rather modern and multi tonal in the first movement, lyrical and Chopin-Debussey-Etude'ish in the second movement, with the third movement being a Highland Reel of sorts into which the Chopin-esque theme intrudes in a rather jarring and, as Wheeldon handled it, visually difficult to comprehend way. On one viewing, at least. Still, it's a strong score which could probably stand on its own. The performance by Miranda Weese was (I thought) superb, pushing her well beyond her usual type and boundaries, and showing something really rather dark about her, not what you would have imagined. Yes, Weese normally let's go in her dancing (though not as much as she used to -- I remember when she first arrived here seeing a NYC Minute broadcast in which she explained that she listed to Led Zeppelin in her dressing room before performances) but it's usually a very controlled letting go within the classical cannons. Wheeldon stretched this. Not by going human pretzel -- The pas de deux with Soto is not at all like Polyphonia, if anything it reminds one, particularly in some of the draping and balancing of the ballerina by her partner in off balance spins, of the pas de deux Wheeldon made for Faye Arthurs and Craig Hall in Scenes de Ballet. The movement palate is still classical, but the thing is that, though Weese's character is ravished, there are violent moments, and she seems to enjoy being ravished, to cooperate with the violence, to enter into it with surrender and fatality, crossing over to the dark side a bit. Well, the dark side is there, all right. Wheeldon's strength as a choreographer at this point is, I think, his ability to see things in dancers and make dances which call them out. I did not find the Ballet offensive. I would see it again to see the duet for Weese and Soto. Also Carla Korbes in the First Movement. But that's about it. I did not find it particularly successful or meaningful and there is also a great deal that is just plain trite and hackneyed, particularly the faux "modernism" of the First Movement. I thought the last movement, the Scotch dance, the least successful. The reentry of Weese and Soto into that movement seemed particularly absurd. What the hell were they doing there? But what I found objectionable, oddly enough, is not what those who wrote above, whose opinions and whose sensibilities I certainly very much respect, objected to. I actually found the pas de deux for Weese and Soto to be the strongest and the best part of the Ballet. If you were a young choreographer, and your models were Macmillan, on the one hand, and Balanchine, on the other, you could create something like this, particularly if you hackneyed up the costumes and lighting. A dimly lit and badly costumed Symphony in Three Movements meets the "Psycho-Sexo-Drama" (thanks Mel) of Mayerling. Voila.

Thusday Night – Div. No. 15, Episodes, Vienna Waltzes I think it is worth describing Thursday’s program at some length. Episodes Before anything else is said, the salient fact is that this was the night of all nights to see Wendy Whelan and Albert Evans in the third section of Episodes, a superlative performance in what, essentially, is an extended Pas de Deux, set within a small corps de ballet of about four women, to a haunting, moody and percussive Von Webern score. Whelan was unforgettable in this. Pliable, musical, great balance, my God is she strong for all her reed-like thinness, and with such a strange femininity -- the legato flow and the details she rendered in this role were spellbinding, the way, for example when dragged across the stage in one passage of successive lifts by Evans, where the choreography calls for the Ballerina to lightly touch the floor with one foot, while being carried backwards in a split pose, first brushing the floor with a pointed extended trailing foot, then with the same foot flexing, and finally with the full heel of the flexed foot in each successive phrase -- she showed how each rotation of the foot changed the entire presentation of the leg and body, as if this were the incisive point of the entire choreographic passage – It is hard to believe that Balanchine can ever have had a better interpreter for this dance. In the small corps de ballet in back of them, comprised of Faye Arthurs, Melissa Barak, Carrie Riggins and Genevieve Labean, all in Balanchine leotard vampire woman mode, Genevieve Labean must have had the performance of her life. Labean, who has often seemed younger than her age, and who has often appeared like a seven year old girl dressed up in her mother’s shoes too big for her and her mother’s make up and lipstick (to footnote my friend from Roslyn who first said this but who I am sure would like to remain anonymous, you know who you are) appeared to finally have grown up. Fee, turned out amazingly, beautifully proportioned, otherworldly, sexually predatory. I had to check my program twice to make sure it was her. Brava. The second, duet passage in Episodes, danced by Teresa Reichlen and James Fayette, was I thought a little flat. Reichlen is perfectly cast in this from the physical point of view. What a body, what a face, but danced the role, however, very cautiously. I found I wanted something rawer, something more animal and spontaneous here, I wanted to see her let go in the way that Whelan let go in the following passage. This was a debut I think and hopefully it will come. It did not help that James Fayette seemed to have absolutely no rapport for her or with her here, being merely attentive rather than emotionally and physically involved himself. Maria Kowroski, on the other hand, was superb leading the large corps de ballet in the final Riccercata, treating her role in an understated, classical manner which I loved, something of an extension of how she danced Barocco at the Gala the night before. Kowroski is succeeding in becoming a classical dancer these days, concentrating on the alignment of her face, neck, shoulders and arms, is developing an elegant and somewhat Kirov-like presentation of herself. She made the Riccercata seem very like some of the ancient dances in Agon. Tinsley and Liang danced the first passage. She was fine but I often found my attention wandering. Liang has returned to the company with a stretched physique, particularly in his legs, noticeably less bulked up physically and maturer in his face as well. I love the long, extended fourth positions. I had not noticed before, however, how little turn out he has at the hips. To achieve the illusion of which he turns out instead below the knee. Divertimento The other great news of the evening was that Ashley Bouder stole the show in Divertimento No. 15. If it had not been for Whelan in Episodes, Bouder is whom I would have led this summary with. If there is one dancer whom I could just watch chassee and do nothing else, whose mere execution of that bounding musical step is art, it is Bouder. But the performance was much more than that, it was a tour de force in every sense. Her technical facility has reached that level where it frees her from most physical limitations and allows interpretation of a role. Here, where you could compare her to Ansanelli, Borree, Stafford, Rutherford, that facility and the amplitude of her dancing was amazing. What Oberon has said elsewhere, that she can learn not to do everything all the time, is true. But in Divertimento it was not an issue. This may well be the most fully realized performance I have ever seen her give in any role. Divertimento was, as a whole, very satisfying, much more than the sum of its individual parts which again included some rather visible bobbles, including falls by Yvonne Borree and Rachel Rutherford. It helped very much that the men – Steven Hanna, Arch Higgins and Robert Tewsley – were each extremely good in this, in roles which require beautiful, elegant, elongated lines and a noble carriage from all of them. Tewsley’s big flying pas de chats in his air turns and his clean landings in fifth position put to rest the question of whether anyone in this company can do this. Borree’s regaining her composure and dancing through her performance after her fall was something heroic. I don’t think I have ever admired her so much. There is something heartbreaking about this girl. I had not noticed before how big she dances. In her last variation, in particular, there was one big escape from fifth position with a huge leap to arabesque on pointe which covered so much space that it made me realize why she was a principal dancer. She has in fact a beautiful smile and a lovely natural presence. But stage fright is her demon and who knows whether or when we will ever see that consistently. Rachel Rutherford’s ability to move freely, particularly at the hips, seems somewhat restricted at the moment. What preceded her fall were increasingly frantic efforts to reach pointe, resulting in a lurching motion in relevee, and similarly extreme efforts to raise the working leg much above 45 degrees in jetees or arabesque. I have seen Rutherford, whom I adore, dance this role better in previous years. It is wrong to ignore La Ansanelli, who has grown very much into the Seventh Variation role and nailed it quite well last night. But I left the theater thinking of La Bouder and not of her and I have little vivid memory of her performance. Except for the spins to the knee in her first variation which she performed as a sort of two step process, spin to broad forth and quietly drop into the broad kneeling fourth position. Unconventional, like much of what she does, but it worked. Also the lovely quiet and natural smile she gave the audience at the end of her pas de deux. Her eyes at a moment like that seem to take in the entire theater and to find you personally. That is why she is a star. Abi Stafford’s first, solo variation, was also beautifully performed. Vienna Waltzes Vienna Waltzes is, it seems to me, an extremely fragile ballet, and an unforgiving one which needs a very high level of performance to appear its best and which will sink into mere banality at the first hint of miscasting, misunderstanding or a perfunctory performance. Last night illustrated this, oscillating back and forth between the sublime and the banal with an unpredictable frequency. The first section, Tales of the Vienna Woods, was very fine, primarily because Rachel Rutherford has so nicely grown into the principal role here. Whatever her current physical limitations, Rachel has become the company’s premiere character dancer, one might say Dramatic Ballerina, witness her performances in La Valse last week. Her reading of the Vienna Woods section was very much that of a young and vulnerable girl in love and a first love at that. She achieved a noticeable dramatic entry into that role, by which I mean that moment where you can see a dancer lose herself and fully take on her character. In the scene towards the middle or even the beginning of the end, for example, where she feels deserted by her lover, looking for -- but momentarily not finding -- him as the other couples pair off, she showed first heartbreak, and then a proud relief upon his reentry, requiring Fayette to come to her, standing before him unresponsive but clearly relieved before he atoned, and then melting. All of which reflected her clear dramatic embodiment of the role. She is gifted in this. The conclusion moved one to tears. Voices of Spring was similarly well performed, with Miranda Weese making a beautiful (debut?) performance opposite Damien Woetzel. But that was about it. The tendency of this ballet to degenerate to the banal became evident in Explosions Polka and then, above all, in the Merry Widow, danced by Jennifer Ringer and Nilas Martins. Casting whom in this is rather like casting June and Ward Cleaver of Leave it to Beaver fame as the Merry Widow and her Cavalier. What a pity, because I think Ringer would be wonderful in the concluding Rosencavalier section, in which I could not really recover a proper frame of mind for Kyra Nichols. As has been noted elsewhere a propos of the Gala performance, the Rosencavalier is about loss and absence. The Ballerina dances with a shadow, perhaps an absent dream, perhaps a memory of the past, perhaps someone she has lost. Her Cavalier’s role is to recall her to the present. This is a vibrant emotional contest. When performed by Nichols, it can sometimes appear merely the steps and gestures. One misses precisely that vital dramatic entry into the situation which we saw from Rutherford in the Vienna Woods. Conclusion – The Program as a Whole Overall, the program was very interesting in the way that two of the three works arise out of, and show Balanchine exploiting, the patterns of social dance -- the minuet and probably some other dance patterns in the case of Divertimento # 15; and successive generations of waltzes in the case of Vienna Waltzes; and in the echo of this then so clearly resonant and present in Episodes, especially in the final Ricercata danced by Kowroski and a corps de ballet of fifteen dancers. Seen in the context of Vienna Woods and Divertimento, the dance patterns of the Ricercata seemed formal, even to recalling something of the technique of the pas de trios in Agon. Meaning that the dance seemed very much the classical vocabulary merely set in the slightly deconstructed musical space of Von Webern. This is a good example of the power of programming to reveal new aspects of work – I do not think that Episodes would have resonated quite thus except for the context of the other two ballets. And the reflection and resonance then extends back to Divertimento – for Divertimento # 15 then can also be seen to be a work held together overall by the social orientation of what I will call the community of dancers on stage. The key to the structure of Divertimento last night clearly appeared to be the repeated acknowledgements and small ceremonial reverences of the women -- first to each other as individuals, then to their male partners as individuals, then of the women to each other as a group, then of the women as a group to the men as a group, and so on for the three men as well. Those small moments of bow, Tendu Attitude Front and gesture to each other, in which each meets the others’ eyes are so important to the perfume of this piece.

I enjoyed the broadcast very much and I think that the programming was interesting for both this Balanchine afficianado and the general PBS audience. The general PBS audience who will watch a Live from Lincoln Center broadcast is not as knowledgeable about ballet as the readers of this Ballet Alert board. Showing them a different side of classical ballet than the tiara and tutu image which is more familiar to the general art loving public than the waltz-variation-liebeslieder-vienna-perfume-drenched-Edwardian-fin-de-siecle incarnation emphasized during this programming is very artistically defensible and this also shows them a different side of Balanchine than they may immediately think of. That same consideration justifies the inclusion of the many film clips which we all have seen before, but which the general PBS audience is surely much less familiar with, as well as with those details of Balanchine's personal voice and personal history. For the same reason no problem with the beautiful Ms. Parker with the radiant smile and Mr. Kline whose brief read from Shakespeare was lovely. And the programming was in fact very interesting. All of those waltzes juxtaposed. I would love to see a full program where Liebeslieder and Vienna Waltzes and Who Cares, for that matter, were all well performed. The way that social dancing is dancing and merges into artistic and dramatic dancing in these settings is quite interesting. Yes, alternative programs were available to them. They always are. But they make the programs and I thought this a very good one.

Dupont and Legris were indeed extraordinary. Her proportions are those of a type we do not often see here, the waist dividing the body almost exactly in half, the center of gravity residing in the body proper. Her speed, or rather instantaneously quick response, was amazing, as is the radical turn out and line she presents. In a series of quick jetees/developpees to the front, I do not remember ever seeing a danceuse present a more gorgeously rotated out to the point of perfection line of the inner thigh, calf and foot, with the foot pointed yet relaxed and as it were presented ... the entire step accomplished in a flick of an eye, effortlessly. Just an example and hard to explain. Another apercu, showing the different center of gravity involved in the training, was the beautiful arched camber in her back in a series of turns in attitude rear. Now attitude can be thought of as leg and knee and arm on the opposite side -- but it is the cambered back which brings this together and I do not ever remember being shown this before quite to that degree by a ballerina. Dupont and Legris were not something I can see here every day and I do not think anyone in NYC could have given the performance of Sonnatine we saw. Brilliant programming with this cast. And, as Mary said, the best Robbins ballet Balanchine ever choreographed.

Mel -- Widening my question somewhat, all ways of doing it can't quite be equal, or can they? Have you ever seen a poorly executed pas de bourree in any performance? Or one you thought specially good? If so, why would you judge them so? Further, what would you teach as basic form, or teach first as basic form (since you've got to make some choice to begin with, if only something to work off of, I would guess) if you had a malleable and talented student to work with? Can you, in short, give some kind of technical critique as to what your eye looks for in bouree?

On pointe, I sometimes see pas de bouree done with the travelling motion produced almost completely from the ankle -- That is, the ankle fully releases with each step and the dancer glides thus. (Alexandra Ferri in the broadcast of The Dream last week, for a striking example, but I also remember noticing Veronica Part doing this in her variation as Mercedes in Don Q at ABT last year) And I also frequently see it done (in general at ABT and NYCB) with the motion produced almost fully from the leg and not the ankle, with the ankle releasing only very very slightly, or apparently not at all, on each pas. Kyra Nichols is probably the most striking example of this technique I can think of. Which is the correct classical style or are they both correct depending on training? Aesthetically speaking, I'm not really sure which I personally prefer to see. On the one hand, seeing the ankles working in a very supple manner can make the feet very expressive (vide Ferri) -- rendering to them some of the expressiveness and nuance of gesture more normally found in a dancer's hands. . On the other hand, there is a different sort of visually weightless, effortless gliding motion which pas de bouree can produce when the ankles do not noticably release. On this score, I think of the Dewdrop variation in Balanchine's Nutcracker where the Ballerina floats upstage with porte de bras towards the conclusion of the Waltz of the Flowers, or of the similar effect produced by Titania's weightless glide upstage at the end of her dance with her attendants in a Midsummer Night's Dream, Act I, Scene II (vide Nichols in both).

I don't mind a smattering of spontaneous applause in media res. It's a subjective reaction, it salutes the dancers and it doesn't distract me. As for applause in the structural breaks in a piece, the conductor and the dancers themselves have great influence over how long and even when the audience applauds. When the dancers and the orchestra actually stop for and invite it, it can't be argued that it is inappropriate. You might wish, though, that a company invited it less. And when, as sometimes happens, the orchestra and dancers halt for applause but are greated with widespread indifference, or halt for more applause than the audience wishes to give, it is just embarassing. Everyone, I think, can remember such moments.

Which goes far to explain the eclipse of Ashton by McMillain. (Surely a fatal moment for the Royal Ballet.)

Thanks for the responses. Rethinking this inquiry last night, the implicit questions are and were, before one considers a contraction -- What are the virtues of the 3 Act Ashton and what are the virtues of a 3 Act Sylvia in principle. I never had the chance to see the Ashton. Was it well received by audiences and what about critical judgment? I can't easily check, but I believe the original choreography was St. Leon at the Paris Opera? It is interesting that my seat of the pants critique of Grand Opera and of Classical Music of that era, circa 1870, with Wagner in full bloom, considers Opera to be at the end of its highly classical phase at that time, even a little decadent to my eyes (I would set Verdi and early Wagner, probably Lohengrin as a sort of peak) with classical music almost certainly in stylistic decadence (where I'd set the era of Mendelsohn probably at a peak) . While my seat of the pants view of Ballet History has heretofore viewed Petipa and the St. Petersburg school (approaching the 1890s and the turn of the century) as the cultural flourescence. There is a sort of lag between the flourescences of Opera and Ballet, two arts often performed on the same evening bills, in this view. But this implicitly denegrates the school of St. Leon, who is then seen more as a source for Petipa and the Russians than for his and his schools own virtues. I wonder if, in the view of persons who know more about it, there is nonetheless some original spark of vitality there which bears investigation, not as refracted through the Russians of 20 to 30 years later, but in its own light (to the degree that such a light can now be focused on such a thing).

I recently listened to a 1960-70ish recording of the (Ashton?) Royal Ballet Sylvia. Delibes's score to Sylvia is less appealing than that for Coppelia. Sylvia reeks of Wagner's most bombastic influence, while Coppelia has more charm, less of a concrete overshoe, and a truer sense of its own identity. The plot also is perhaps too involved: Nevertheless -- Some of the score to Sylvia is quite extraordinary. Clearly, one could "distill" (a la Balanchine's glosses on Swan Lake, or on Baiser de la Fee) a one Act Ballet of about 40 - 55 minutes from this, which would have great musical integrity and appeal , if done well. Something longer than Balanchine's brief Sylvia Pas de Deux, something more faithful to the score, plot and mood than Balanchine's La Source is to La Source, particularly with respect to plot motifs. And there exists, to "gloss off of," the Ashton version and perhaps Paris Opera or St. Petersburgh performance traditions? I wonder what folks think. It would seem worthy of an attempt (a good project for a Wheedon--ish work?), worthy of a Diamond Project sort of investment of time and funds, particularly because it would have an undisputably Classical Base to work off of. The choreography could tend towards the Formalist but would nonetheless have the advantage of a Classical Plot, Classical Score Reduction, and Classical Performance Tradition which could then be treated in a Formalist manner by allowing it to break free of a mere rendition.

Emily Coates

There is a respectable school of opinion which argues that what matters in a corps is not so much precise uniformity in the sense of counts and spacing, of everyone doing everything right at the same instant -- As, instead, uniformity in the sense of style of movement, training, placement, bodily development as rigorously imposed by the training of a great academy -- And that what matters more than counts, etc. in pieces like Barocco or Diamonds, are the accents and musical responses, the interpetive qualities of the corps de ballet and company in dancing the piece. I've had the feeling, in reading this thread, and having watched Diamonds and Barocco at NYCB this winter, that it is the latter senses that the critics may be talking about?

Yes you have to give him a lot of credit. But his opinions and statements are often so very violent, so extreme and so mercurial (violent changes from month to month -- company was looking up, developing fine dancers last spring, some of same dancers lower than hell this year) that the grain of salt you need to apply in reading Gottlieb is just as heavy as the credit you give him. Stange mixture. Nothing is ever grey to him, or a little bit black or a little bit white. Only extremes. It's hard not feel that there is something personal in the violence with which he expresses himself, if not in the opinions. That's not always bad. As for the tempering comments at the end of the Vanity Fair piece, a crafty polemicist (I'm not saying he is one, mind you) would have put those in just to front end the inevitable personal bias accusation. So in the end you have to judge by what you read. He's quite often near the mark but seems in fact to overshoot it.