Michael

Much as I loved seeing Ashley Bouder cast in Firebird at 17, wouldn't that have been a natural (a wonderfully suitable) role for Monique?

What an embarassment of riches for a ballet fan in NY these days. On Saturday Afternoon, across the plaza from ABT's Don Q (reviewed so well in another thread by Drew) we saw extremely strong performances of Balanchine's one act "Swan Lake", and of "Duo Concertant," as well as of "Square Dance" and of Chris Wheeldon's new ballet from last winter, "Polyphonia." Swan Lake saw impassioned, deeply committed, emotional performances by Maria Kowroski and Charles Askegaard which lifted this ballet to a different level for me. I'd seen it before with different casts and had been tempted to consider it one of Balanchine's shallower works, a kind of "greatest hits" or "hightlights of" treatment of the subject. Yesterday totally changed that opinion. Kowroski danced at once with deep involvement, even with passion (with a rich, full porte de bras and those glorious arabesques and extensions you expect from her) but also had herself technically under full control as well, even in the broadest allegro passages. I thought Charles Askegaard again superb, as I had found him partnering Ashley Bouder last week in Firebird. The more I watch him, the more I find him a dancer from a different planet from the other City Ballet men -- with his tall, noble line and soft pliees in his landings, he's also a fine actor and poignantly conveyed the anguish of Siegfried's parting from Odette. I was happy to see him convert the double air turns (which Philip Neal had totally botched the week before) into singles and incorporate them seemlessly into his variation. It's not about steps and athleticism. It's about beauty. The corps also looked the most together I've seen them this year. In general, there seems to be a rhythm to how the corps coalesces in a year. In early winter they're worn out from six weeks of Nutcrackers, lack cohesion due to the fact that apprentices have been dancing a third of those performances, and are also rusty from lack of rehearsal. By late winter, they're burnt out period. In early spring, they're rusty from the layoff. Right about now, they're in top form. A word about Mr. B's One Act Swan Lake as I now think of it. First, the work clearly depends upon and plays off of our familiarity with the original. It would be meaningless without that, it's a gloss upon it, only possible in that connection, and a choreographic gloss at that -- meaning that what Balanchine is interested in is not so mucht the plot as the received choreographical treatment of it. The plot, already known to the viewer, is merely hinted at, but Petitpa's choreography has been condensed and transformed and in that way, paradoxically, we are presented with a compact and surprisingly moving and emotional drama, as danced yesterday. (Thanks to Askegaard and Maria K -- I cannot forget the riveting way Kowroski related to him and used her eyes and facial expressions in this performance). From my memory (which is usually pretty fallible, but I think what follows is accurate in broad outline): all the divertissments are eliminated, as are both the parties in the palace (both Siegried's birthday and the ball). There is no Odile, no black swan pdd. We have, it seems, only Odette's discovery, winning and loss, which we understand merely by reference, as well as two waltzes for the large female corps, costumed completely in black. The use of the corps is very dynamic and innovative. For example, in the concluding scene, as Siegfired spins Odette quickly around and around (to the swirling of the music) in a gorgeous supported and inclined arabesque (with about an 160 degree extension) the corps swirls in front of them and around them, so that you see them in the midst of and behind the other dancers, a beautiful tableaux I don't remember seeing before (though it may well be in other versions). This season we've also seen the Divertissement from Baiser de La Fee, a similar type of Balanchine gloss. I'd like to see more of them both, which disclose richer levels with each viewing, if the performance is as good as yesterday's was. This is way too long, a brief synopsis of the other pieces: Square Dance (which was first on the program -- Swan lake was last): Yvonne Borree and and Peter Boal had the leads, the same cast as opened the winter season in January. It was much better performed yesterday -- very well performed in fact, both by the principals and the corps. Among the corps, Amanda Hankes stood out. (N.B. --Hankes was beautiful dancing the solo variation [the "Harp"] in several performances of Robbins' Fanfare last winter, until recently Carla Korbes took over that part -- but Amanda Hankes is a gifted young dancer whom I'd love to see more of). Duo Concertant again had the Nikolai Hubbe, Darci Kistler cast, which everyone who has posted this winter has already noted is superb beyond praise in this. I do not think it is possible to see this ballet better performed than they have been performing it. Polyphonia -- I've not weighed in on this before, but I've seen it twice now in the past ten days and I like it very much. There are passages, certain pdds, that reach a level that justifies even Anna Kisselgoff-like praise. Other passages seem to me to be merely good, but a little dull or perhaps obscure. But I don't need a masterpiece -- I'll settle for just very good. Wheeldon is essaying himself in modernism here, trying it on, and his virtues show. Among his virtues is, as others have said, his inventiveness with steps and enchainements and, in that connection, the material here for Whelan and Soto and for Alexandra Ansanelli and Craig Hall is just wonderful. Ansanelli is breathtaking in this, from start to finish. Her dance is to a slow, mournful, throbbing, piano piece which reminds me a little of DeBussy's Cathedrale Engloutie. Before the opening chords, she's alone on stage in half light. She relevees slowly on to point (in the silence) slowly passees and then settles down into sous sus, then pauses, still in silence, before bourreeing forward, again slowly, just as first chords sound ... The rest follows almost hypnotically, concluding at one point in gorgeous series of chainee turns. It's just beautiful, a use of her particular presence and legato qualities which is hard to convey in words. [ 06-10-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ]

Wonderful review. Whenever I've seen Murphy lately, I'm with you, I've felt that she's a real ballerina. What seemed initially to me to be coolness, I now don't think is. She has in fact to my eye, now that I've watched her a few more times, a warm stage personality, but maintains a kind of artistic distance, something like Maria K across the plaza. It's a mixed affect that I don't quite know how to analyze. Anyway, who cares, I love to watch her and that affect is very much a part of her individual charm.

I think it's important to see that both critical views are equally valid -- the view of the person who's seeing it without comparisons and who thinks it's absolutely sublime, and the view of the person who has seen it several times and compares. Both audience members should feel confident in what they see.

I was sorry not to be there last night. It was Bouder's ability to "hold the stage" that was so striking in the first performance. (I think that some of the talent for holding the stage can be taught, but that the majority of it is innate, simply a gift that certain dancers have, though I would be interested in hearing what dancers and teachers say). I don't blame Martins for casting her in this. On the contrary, I'm grateful. And unlike other seasons and other dancers, PM is not overusing anyone this spring season. There's no "bit push upwards" for Ashley. She's being used judiciously and she's right for this role.

I always particlarly admire the aplomb with which I've seen dancers get right back up, find their place in the choreography, and carry on. Luckily, I've never seen anyone get hurt.

It's interesting that, despite the quote, Baryshnikov has still recently taught the occasional men's class at SAB. Regarding "Ballet is Commercial Theater" -- That aptly sums up a great deal of what I've seen presented in the past few years. What else would you call: "Pied Piper," "The Merry Widow," "The Taming of the Shrew," "La Bayadere-Act II-torn-from-its-context, and presented merely as spectacle", The programs ABT put on a City Center last fall (can't even remember the names now), some of Peter Martins' revivals of the Petipa classics, six full weeks of "The Nutcracker" at NYCB in the fall, Eliot Feld's "Organon," Peter Martins "Harmonielehre" . . . One could go on and on. I think Baryshnikov really loves ballet, also that he loves to play the enfant terrible and to hear himself talk.

Ditto with Eric. I loved Div. # 15 Monday night and actually felt that the variations (particularly the first set of solo variations) had more distinction (one from the other) and more clarity than when I saw them performed recently by the company (and I liked that company performance very much). I think Ms. Schorer did a great job coaching them in this. As for Melissa Barak's piece, I think Jennnifer Dunning's review hit the nail right on the head in two ways. First, Melissa made wonderful roles for her two principal women, roles that showed off each of their individual essences, their "perfumes," to the point where I would have a hard time imagining anyone else dancing them. Second, Dunning was also quite right about how eloquent and nuanced Melissa made her dancer's legs -- particularly that subtle, "hop on point (in sous sus)and then pliee very slightly" step which is repeated again and again throughout the piece as a motif. I loved that. It breaths with the the music. Or it's a pulse. Contrast that step with Robbins in "Brandenburg," where the whole corps stands in a sort of conga line and deeply pliees to a baroque rhthym. It's not that the ballet as a whole is such a damn masterpiece. Some of it seemed very basic and appropriate for a school performance by a very young choreographer. But as a whole it was more than basic, and when I consider the elements I've described above, I think it was quite beautiful. Or at least it has left me with a clear memory of beauty and of those two principal girls, which is not something you say every day after seeing a new ballet. [ 06-06-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ]

I've also seen Kowroski perform that role in the past. Which I've been thinking about. Maria K is such a big girl, such a Danseuse Noble or Neoclassical type. Ashley Bouder is a different type entirely -- either Demicharacter or possibly Semicharacter Classique in the old classification; perhaps to be called a classical or romantic ballerina in the new, but definitely not of Kowroski's type. Since this is, par excellence, Maria Talchief's role, what does that say about casting Bouder? I never saw Talchief dance, of course, and don't know how big she was. I've seen tapes but don't really know her style. In casting Ashley (who did such a beautiful job) was Martins returning to the Talchief type, or casting against it? Also, after two days the savor of this performance has only grown. I can't forget Bouder's "otherliness" in that last scene; how her character seemed to know what she had done but also not to appreciate it, being of another moral order, and how at the same time the character, during the last long bourree around the stage, seemed to be looking about nervously, sharply, as if there was some physical necessity, quite inhuman (of another order, once again) for her to be aware, to "notice" and scan her surroundings in that way. That was beautiful. The mood at the end was elevated, elegiac, catharctic and a little sad, like that at the conclusion of Wagner's Ring.

The design reminded me, at first, of a computer "screen saver" (I mean the part at the beginning with the projection of the big moon and then the clouds, and the sunrise, etc.) Thereafter the sets and projections were right out of Super Nintendo. (I've watched far too much of that with my teenagers over the years -- that is definitely what I'd compare the blocky cartoonish landscape to). Finally, when the "children" materialize in spinning projections overhead, we return to "Screen Saver Land" ... or perhaps are beamed into the light show from a Nineteen Seventies Heavy Metal Concert. Something from Deep Purple. The rat costumes looked very like the Raptors in Jurassic Park. Perhaps they didn't want rats that looked too much like those from Mr. B's Nutcracker? And the blue pajamas on the kids looked very like the green suits worn in correctional facilities in NY State. The plot -- a Freudian Pied Piper is divided into three personalities, discovers his powers, banishes the raptors after they tickle him with baby raptors on sticks, is then shunned by the Burghers who act as if they've charmed the Raptors, but finally leads the children of the town into Super-Nintendo-Land -- is far too involved to be conveyed and, even if it could be conveyed, would still be ridiculous. I thought Herman Cornejo almost worth the price of the ticket, but the piece also, by the end, made him look bad. The first five minutes of Bayadere, the entrance and evolutions of the female corps, was quite beautiful. (As always). And Ekaterina Shelkanova was very very good in her variations and her pas de trois. But I have to recant much of the praise I've been bestowing on Ashley Tuttle lately. At least for today. Tuttle struck some beautiful poses today . . . when she caught up, that is, and got there. (Lovely cambered back, arm held high; or attitude en avant). The problem was what happened on the way. Very stiff and unmusical between the poses, not moving well at all, and sketchy and unstable in the big developpees, especially those to her left. Picone didn't help either.

Charles Askegaard and Ashley Bouder gave absolutely exquisite performances in Firebird tonight at City Ballet, with Ashley making her debut in the role in a last minute substitution for Margaret Tracey. It was a magical performance, one of those nights that happen only occasionally and which remind me just how powerful and moving an art form ballet is. Dena Abergel was wonderful as the Bride. I wish I could convey how good Charles Askegaard was in this role -- his noble, attentive partnering of Bouder, his weighty step, his big and effortless jump and lovely soft plie both in his walk and in his landings; but, above all, the dramatic sense of spellbound wonder that he conveyed in his character. It was a commanding performance from start to finish, as good as I've seen from a man this year at City Ballet. As for Bouder, I wasn't sure what to expect. The role is so different from the pyrotechnical demands of the solo in La Source with which she made such an impression in January. And she's so young, this being her first year in the company, after been singled out at last years SAB workshop. But I need not have worried. After some initial jitters in the first few seconds, she settled into a performance which was remarkable for how she held the stage and for its full and compelling dramatic portrayal of the Firebird: The Firebird as the central character in the drama -- a vulnerable, magical creature that she made real, the fitting object of Charles Askegaard's spellbound wonder, and ultimately the joyful rescuer of Askegaard and his bride. It was a dramatic reading of the role, an instinctive interpretation, that I had not expected -- not only because she is such a young dancer, but because I've never seen that sense conveyed before in a number of performances of this ballet. You could see Ashley "kick into" the character quite noticably when she met Askegaard's eyes, during their first pas de deux, with an achingly beautiful facial expression. Thereafter, she owned the part. The series of jumps, circling the stage, when she entered to rescue the Prince, were breathtaking. And the seeming eternity on pointe at the end, when she is ultimately alone on the stage -- the long, soft series of pas de bourrees, interspersed with soft, occasional, brushing, pas de chevals -- were simply exquisite. There were some sketchy moments, but not more than one or two. It was not just a remarkable performance from a kid, it was a remarkable performance period. Enough said. The rest of the program -- Appalachia Waltz with Somogyi et al. and Balanchine's One Act Swan Lake with Wendy Whelan and Philip Neal -- was also very good. [ 05-22-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ] [ 05-22-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ] [ 05-23-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ]

I think the presentation of the clock, in the last act, connects with the theme of the "debunking" or "trashing" of Coppelius's medieval/alchemical workshop. In the plot "writ large," the village is replacing its system of telling time by the tolling of the church bells by installing a big new clock. This represents a passage from a medieval mentality to rationalism. Coppelius's effort to make a mechanical woman, by following an alechmical text, is rendered ridiculous and comic, just as the village passes to a modern, rational system of telling time. I wonder whether the suite of dances in Act III could have been given meaning in this context, or whether they are simply decorative -- which is no bad thing either, as I agree with Mary that this is, overall, a light hearted ballet. There is, however, an interesting dialogue between romanticism and classicism in Coppelia. Romantic ballet (indeed romantic art) is striking for using vernacular, indigenous northern motifs and stories in place of the classical myths out of Ovid. Romanticism is in that respect linked to post-Napoleonic nationalism. The indigenous myths of the Northern European area are now considered fit subject matter for high art. It's dance literature in the vernacular. Coppelia as a ballet in its entirety; and the national dances in Act I; and the dances celebrating Act III (including war and discord a la Wagner) all function in that context. But it's a loose context, I think. That's a question, really. [ 05-22-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ] [ 05-22-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ]

It's interesting to consider Coppelius, as a figure, as the production of German Romanticism that he is. Coppelia, I believe, is based upon a story by E.T.A. Hoffman (like the Nutcracker, for that matter). Now Coppelius, as a Romantic figure, resonates with Goethe's Faust. Coppelius is an absurd and comic figure, since the futility of falling in love with a "human" doll is evident and is meant to be evident. But he also slightly tragic to the degree that he embodies the grand-Romantic theme of humanity desperately trying to transcend its limitations. As Faust -- the learned professor who has inquired into all categories of human knowledge -- makes his deal with the devil, not quite knowing what he is looking for but clearly looking for more than is human, so Coppelius pours over his old manusscripts to create his ideal woman. Also remember Romanticisms fixation with "The Eternal Feminine." The nuance in portraying Coppelius is thus that he is tragi-comic. He is absurd but also pathetic. One of the nice things about Balanchine's Coppelia (a problematic production in many ways), is the rather sad portrayal of Coppelius in the concluding scenes. He is, after all, a broken, deluded old man who has been the victim of a vicious practical joke. The mixed portrayal of Coppelius also works well with Delibes score. There are clear musical allusions to Wagner in the score. Just think of the deep, elegiac chords in the horns with which the overture opens. But this in intermixed with the light, gay period music of the Paris Opera. The score forever shuttles between these sources.

Leigh - I also saw the "kids" cast of Div. No. 15 -- Kristin Sloan, Carla Korbes, Janie Taylor, and Abi Stafford (together with the "mature" Miranda Weese) -- this past Friday night (their second performance) and loved it. I totally agree with you about Miranda Weese looking like the proud parent. I think she conveyed that, although I'm not sure how. Each of these kids was extraordinary. Carla Korbes impressed me very much with the beautiful use of her arms and the way her movement flows. What I mean is how, when she extends her arm, for example, you can follow the impulse of her movement like a ripple to the last flourish of her hand. It's a beautiful way of moving and you don't see it that often. (Among NYCB dancers, Saskia Beskow in particular does this very beautifully -- you can see it especially well at the end of the first section of Symphony in Three Movements, when the entire corps ripples into that posture --which is the point). Korbes was the least known of this crop of kids before the last two weeks, so it has been particularly good to see her in the spotlight. I thought her also very striking in Ash last Saturday afternoon. But the rest of them deserve just as much praise. Kristin Sloan was just beautiful in a role in which she showed a degree of restrained, chaste, classical technique I did not know she had. Christopher D'Amboise made a principal role on her last year, her first in the company, in one of the Diamond Project ballets, and with every one of her performances we see more and more what he spotted in her. Also, Martins has been casting her in solos and prominent side girl roles in his own ballets. Always a good sign for a young dancer's future in the company. As for Taylor -- I think of her as Peter Martins' muse right now. In both Burleske (his new Barber Violin Concerto-like ballet from February) and in the new work, set to German Lieder, which debuted Thursday night, he has made the most beautiful choreography on her. In her adagio in Div. No. 15, I loved the way she engaged with her partner. There was a particular passage, when the two of them "pushed" away from each other on a series of reverse diagonals, backing across the stage, that I am thinking of. And as for Abi Stafford -- It seems to me that each time I see her, I am shown something about certain basic movements or steps that makes them appear with a clarity as if I had never really seen them before. This sounds obscure -- but what I mean is very specific and concrete. That I see her execute, almost any time I watch her dance an extended solo, a series of elements like passees (I'm thinking of a particular Sugarplum Fairy last fall) or coupees (I'm thinkng of Ballo Della Regina) so clearly -- they exist in such a pure form and also frozen in time -- that it's as if I had never really "seen" that step before or as if something about its essence has been disclosed. And I also come away from the performance amazed at how happy and alive she seems when she does this. On Friday, the images she seemed to freeze were those of a series of perfectly symmetrical, turned out leg positions (bent at the knee, kind of a plie in the air, if you know what I mean) at the top of series of pas de chats(?). The way she seemed to be able to find the time, within a rapid variation, to just hang there and to create those pure images was just amazing. [ 05-14-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ]

I like the new Wheeldon a lot. I saw it both Thursday night and yesterday. For one thing, the ballet within the ballet is really quite good. While it's at once a parody of Ashton's Midsummer Night's Dream, and of Giselle -- the women's corps running in a circle around the male principal in the concluding scene, for instance -- I actually enjoyed it, as romantic ballet, more than I have enjoyed a lot of "real" performances of such pieces, and I think Wheeldon's been careful to make a dance, in that respect, that succeeds. The Mendelsohn score (cobbled together and orchestrated from piano compositions? - I'm not sure) worked very well as Mendelsohn. It was very enjoyable grand romantic music. The farcical subplot of the dancers backstage can also be seen as a thematic parallel of the action "on stage" -- echoes also strike one of Konservatoriet, Etudes, and Robbins' Ma Mere L'Oie. I agree with Drew about Ansanelli's dreamy entrance, but I would go further, as I thought the Grand Pas de Deux for Ansanelli and Woetzel very beautiful. It doesn't matter, it only added to the beauty, that it was slightly tongue in cheek, and Alexandra Ansanelli is just the dancer to pull off such an irony while still dancing to blow your mind. She was simply wonderful in this piece -- but she is, to my thinking, as beautiful a ballerina right now as any one working today (and I don't say this lightly at all). Ansanelli is also a very different dancer now than she was two years ago, having grown up noticeably. She is a physically mature now, having been "discovered" some time ago at, what, sixteen years old? The transition from baby ballerina to mature woman, as a dancer, can be difficult (Cf., Paloma Herrera). But for Ansanelli it has been a blossoming without losing any of her appeal. She still has the amazingly forward placement and flexible back, the radical turn out, but she is stronger, more appealing, and assured, more confident and powerful now, and her dancing seems "stretched" in a sense. I also liked all of the well coached detail in this ballet. The stage hands dance with the brooms was charming, not an easy thing to pull off. In short, no complaints from me about this one. See it if you have the chance. [ 05-13-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ]

I saw the May 9th Matinee with Amanda McKerrow as Cinderella and Ethan Stiefel as the Prince, and with Gillian Murphy as the Fairy Godmother. McKerrow gave a good, committed, expressive performance. She's not at all blank and I don't know what ever led me, in the past, to consider her bland. She uses her facial expressions and eyes well in her dramatizations. She has a lovely, soft, pas de bourree, elegantly and musically phrases her steps, and in a supported adagio (particularly supported arababesque piquee) she has a nice way of abandoning herself to her partner. Stiefel's partnering was, however, weak. I saw no connection between him and McKerrow. Gillian Murphy stole the show for me as Fairy Godmother. She has the strength, presence and command of a principal dancer -- beautiful epaulement and porte de bras. She projected an eloquent, beneficent presence in this Lilac Fairy-like role, was very stable on point, and performed with striking clarity. It was a characterization with an animating idea. She was also very engaged both on stage and with the audience -- there was nothing cold in how she presented herself. All the same, the high point of the performance, both choreographically and as dance -- the most transporting moments -- may well have been the waltzes by the corps in Act II and Act III. Maria Bystrova was cast in a small solo part as the Crone (in which she is too swathed by purple robes to be recognizable, but it was good to see her get solo billing) and was also a beautiful waltz girl. The fairy variations were all performed very well by Elizabeth Gaither, Jennifer Alexander, Xiomara Reyes and Ilona McHugh. Reyes, the new soloist, is very impressive. She's very small and dances very big. A stiking attack blended with perfect technical control in pirouettes in passee. She compares favorably with Tamara Rojo as Rojo danced here in the gala in February. This Cinderella is the Ben Stevenson choreography, a production apparently aquired from the Houston Ballet. I have very large reservations about this ballet. No ballet with a Prokofiev score needs to justify its existence. But a central judgment in making the dance, which dictates and mars the entire production, is the inexplicable decision to present the the two wicked stepsisters in travesti (Marcello Gomes and Sean Stewart), not as Trocs (which might have been interesting) but as Utter, Low Comedy, Three-Stooges-like Buffoons. Horsing around. So that the action presented on stage is a mixture of low buffoonery in the manner of John Cranko's Taming of the Shrew, mixed with these epiphanies of Grand Romantic Ballet -- Two Grand PDDs for Cinerella and the Prince, and various dreamy solo variations for Cinderella. It just doesn't mix. It's the proverbial pistol shots at the concert. Can't Cinderella be presented straight? Why not? It's a fairy tale of the Sleeping Beauty genre, although more on the border of kitsch than Beauty, above all because of our over familiarity with it. But this could argue strongly for dramatizing it in an utterly serious and deadpan manner -- in order to avoid the kitsch. (Whereas this production consciously kitsches it up). In fact, Stevenson tips his hat in the serious direction at the beginning, as it is an act of generosity on Cinderella's part towards the Crone (she invites the old lady to warm herself at the fire -- the opposite of James with Madge in La Sylphide) which triggers her rescue by the Fairy Godmother. Cinderella is merciful towards the Crone and when the Fairy Godmother then appears she appears disguised as the Crone. And Cinderella then keeps being generous, even forgiving her buffoon sisters at the end. So why mix in the Cranko? Even the forgiveness at the end would work better if it were played straight. What is it in Prokofiev that seems to seduce choreographers into low comedy? Even Balanchine, in Prodigal Son, mixed in a good deal of this in the troll-like gambols of the prodigal's friends. But in Prodigal it works because it serves the theme of the ballet and harmonizes well with the mid twentieth century German expressionistic aeshetic of the ballet. However, there is nothing inherent in the score for Cinderella which dictates low comedy. The scenery and costumes by David Walker were beautiful. The lighting, on the other hand, was uniformly too dim.

I agree that Kistler and Hubbe were great in Duo Concertant. I've seen it performed several times before, but last night was the best performance I've seen of this ballet by a wide margin. It was also as good as I've ever seen Nikolai Hubbe. Hubbe has not so much lost weight, coming back from (a hip?) injury, as lost bulk, particularly from the waist down. His thigh and calve muscles (as well as his arms) are more elongated and more articulated than I've seen before and, as a result perhaps, he seemed to dance with more nuance and detail. The programming was: The 4Ts; Duo Concertant; Monumentum Pro Gesualdo; Movements for Piano and Orchestra; and Stravinsky Violin Concerto. I suspect that the point of this (one night after ABT's opening night gala) was to demonstrate that this is not the company across the plaza. The company danced with great spirit and joy. The dancers very noticably enjoyed themselves and received very warm and prolonged ovations, to which they visibly responded in their bows -- something you don't see that often in that house. Also the All Balanchine and "All Balanchine the Modernist" program attracted exactly the "younger," "hipper" NY crowd that the NYCB marketing folks are said to be looking for. Kowroski and Askegaard and the entire corps were beautiful in Monumentum Pro Gesualdo. Also agree completely with Mary about Miranda Weese and Philip Neal. Also, Carrie Riggins, as one of the side girls in the Melancholic (first) Variation of the 4Ts, showed tremendous progress in how she presented herself. What a gorgeous and powerful dancer this is. [ 05-02-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ]

A question -- is Nina Ananiashvili currently dancing or scheduled to dance in Bolshoi programs? I have been hearing rumours that she will be dancing more in NY and wonder what's going on.

Won't someone given an impression of Tuttle's and Corella's Giselle? In the abstract, I can imagine them as kind of an odd couple in these roles, particularly Corella whom I can imagine as not having the weight for his role -- but on the other hand, his boyishness might work very well in portraying the tragic naivete of his actions. [ 04-15-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ]

Andrei, Mel and CD: what is a "Brise Volee" and does it relate to or ressemble the "Temps de Poisson?" Those jumps in the Bluebird variation have a beautiful angle in the line at the waist, do they not? Alexandra, don't you have a lovely picture of Kronstam showing just such a line in a variation from Ashton's Romeo? Regarding Paloma -- As a good friend said, "She's not fifteen years old any more."

Alexandra, I'm glad you liked Tuttle's Florine. I love her polished, chiseled, disciplined quality. I haven't seen her in that role but I imagine she's perfectly suited to it.

Alexandra Ansanelli perform a more dramatic repertory. In The Night, Liebeslieder, Swanhilda, Miss Julie, Lilac Garden, even Giselle, etc.. [ 04-11-2001: Message edited by: Michael1 ]

The problem is that there is not much chance to see any mime, much less really good mime, in the repertory presented in recent years in NY or, I suspect, elsewhere. At City Ballet, Alexander Ritter has impressed me with how he handles the mime in the role of Drosselmeyer in the Nutcracker. In watching him I discovered that there is some really nice mime in that role. In that role Ritter is, to begin with, very elegant in his carriage and posture from the feet right up through his body, so that his entire figure, and not just his arms and hands, take part in the mime. His gestures and hand and arm phrasing are then very clear, so that the grasp of the meaning is instantaneous for the viewer, and I think that that is so important, because the beauty of mime is, really, the instant moment that you visually understand the phrase. On top of this, Alex Ritter also uses his face and his eyes very nicely in those passages, so that you see him make eye contact with the person he's miming to and see his face take part and convey what he's conveying. I'm thinking in particular of the passage where he greets Marie, touches his head between his eyes, and gestures with respect to her size, as if to say "I see that you have grown." Or also the passage where he sets the Nutcracker Doll down after fixing it, while Marie sleeps, and while predicting the rest of the action in Act I, through sympathetic magic makes the doll grow. Come to think of it, his nephew (the little prince) also has a nice mime passage at the beginning of the Land of the Sweets, where he recounts his own heroics in the battle against the mice or rats. Zachary Yermolenko (baby Baryshnikov)has been rather good at that for several years now. Is there a dictionary of mime phrases?

Amy - Where and what was the occasion for Nikolaj Hubbe's presentation about this?

To second your point, Victoria, I do not think that even NYCB has today, among its dancers, a uniform company style, call it Balanchine or anything else. Nor does SAB (Balanchine's school) teach a single style. (Every teacher at SAB does something different and there are a lot of dancers who have been trained elsewhere and who only pass six to eighteen months there before dancing professionally). Both are diverse groups stylistically in their training. The "prototypical Balanchine dancer" is an abstraction. Maybe no one conforms to it. A question -- Do you think that there is an American style generally, that such a style is discernible, as opposed to a Russian, or British, or French style of training? Or is that also (are those) just empty generalities? Or maybe I'm wrong about all of this.