carbro

I would ask Gelsey Kirkland how she got her feet so supple, so that they seemed to scoop up the floor as she jumped. It always looked like she had an extra set of joints in her instep. Then I would ask Hans what Maestro Petipa had told him.

Yes, and no. I remember the protest over the Northern Ireland issue in Dante Park across from Lincoln Center Plaza. I vaguely recall having heard about disruptive protests inside the Met. I know for certain that I was not in the house that night. Do you remember the bomb scare the delayed what nonetheless turned out to be Alicia Alonso's triumphant return to New York? It caused a one-hour-plus delay in the performance. I do not remember if this was her guest performance with ABT or -- more likely -- the New York debut of Ballet Nacional de Cuba. The ladies' handbags (and I assume all other totes, briefcases, etc.) had to exhibit a colored tag to prove that their handbags had passed inspection at all subsequent Cuban performances for several years. A friend of mine amassed quite a collection. What prompted your question, Mme. Hermine?

I've decided to buy some Albert Evans on the basis of Haiku. I know it's high risk, but the flip side is high return.

Hi, buddy! I'd diversify, at least a little. When you consider that even Mozart and Shakespeare have had their out-of-favor periods, Mel's investment advisor may be on to something.

Actually, Alexandra, I'm aware of the problems of being Bournonville post mortem in Copenhagen. The trouble is, only one major academy offers the training necessary to keep the style true. And that's where the heritage is cherished . . . or not. Just so sad to see them skirt the brink of extinction from time to time.

I concur with prevailing opinion here that Balanchine is standard blue chip. Hold tight, you'll do well. But would someone explain to me, please, the roller coaster returns on Bournonville? :confused: :confused: :confused: Thanks.

Could we attribute that blank look to totally focused concentration?

Thanks, Hans. I was referring to Lilac Fairy's Prologue attendants, actually, not the Dryads or five fairies. Yes, I would agree that the other corps groups you cite have unique qualities. Wilis and sylphs are related, although wilis are vengeful and tragic, and sylphs are not. Swans are in a class of their own. Really appreciate your thoughtful response.

No question there, Cargill. Medora is not the same as Aurora. Desiree is not the same as Solor. But how are the three Odalisques different from the three Shades? How are the Don Q Dryads different from Lilac Fairy's Retinue? That's the issue I was trying to define. It seems to me simply a matter of the steps and the music -- of those two elements defining the final product pretty completely.

Hans, I've been considering your last post sporadically through the afternoon and evening. Just a few final notes for the record, as it seems you've taken us to the point where we can firmly agree that we will never agree. To the degree that the Petipa ballets are danced differently from each other (and here I've been referring to the company on stage, not merely the principals), I see the differences informed more by the music than by any story. You and I have values that are at least to some extent mutually contradictory. You hold onto yours -- which are perfectly valid -- with a tenacity that challenges my bullheadedness. The challenge on this thread has been fun. Thanks for the mental workout! ;)

The mime we see today -- and I'm sure this includes the new-old Kirov reconstructions -- is a very streamlined version of the original. From what I understand, the 19th century ballet audiences understood the elaborate mimetic language (and it was nothing less) of their day very well. Even if it were resurrected, reconstructed or reinvented, would it have meaning to the audience today? Fokine was stripping it away long before Balanchine became important. Hans, you write about some ballets' stylistic differences being tied to character. Should the classical passages of Corsaire really be danced so differently from Sleeping Beauty or Bayadere? I believe Swan Lake is stylistically unique, and its lakeside scenes should be recognized as such, just as the "Spanish" flavor of DonQ sets it (except for the vision scene) apart from other ballets. The joke running through the ABT video of Le Corsaire is that while the dancers understood their characters' relationships to each other and the action of inidividual scenes, none of them was really successful in piecing it together as a whole. We can enjoy the pas d'esclave, the Odalisques, the Jardin Anime, the pas de deux/trois and character dances very well for the beauty of the choreography and the dancers' ability to convey not just technique, but mood, musicality and the joy of dancing. The dancing itself tells nothing about the plot, does not move it forward. The plot is nothing more than an excuse to hang some dancing onto. That appeared to be Petipa's sense of it, and it is mine. You might want to see Mindy Aloff's article on the Great Performances website, where she notes how different the story of the ballet is from Byron's poem that inspired it. Of course, that opens other cans of worms (addressed by Aloff): to what extent did the librettist rely on the Byron? And how many changes crept in during the intervening years? http://www.pbs.org/wnet/gperf/lecorsaire/look.html

You watch Corsaire for the story? I'm thinking of Romeo & Juliet (the MacMillan), where some things must be explained, like the contents of the note Nurse delivers to Romeo. But even in that piece, you have a boy approaching manhood who comes from a clan dressed in green. He falls in love with a girl on brink of womanhood who comes from a clan dressed in red. Some of her folks kill some of his folks, etc. It's pretty clear. Does La Sylphide need notes? I don't think so. The ambiguities of that ballet are philosophical ambiguities, not narrative ones.

One of my problems with the recent generation of Kirov women is the shallowness and brittleness of their plies. I suspect that it is a problem with the pointe shoes :confused: , as the men's plies seemed fine. But then again, as the sexes aren't trained together, . . . Fortunately, by the Kirov's most recent New York visit, there had been some improvement. I hope it continues. And let me add my voice in praise of Marc's essay. Great work.

I think there would be two big problems in turning opera into ballet. Ari described the need to arrange a score for singers into one suitable for dancing. Also, there is the matter of plot. Today's choreographers and dancers, and audiences) did not grow up immersed in the kind of mime that told the stories of the 19th century ballets. Unless the story line were extremely simple or very familiar, I doubt that many choreographers out there could stage something that the audience could easily follow. No, don't burden me with program notes, thanks. :rolleyes: If notes are necessary to understanding a ballet, it fails as a plot vehicle. Then there's the issue of the extent to which dance should be considered an appropriate medium for story telling. For another time.

This is really veering pretty far off topic, but I'm finding this fascinating. I saw Fonteyn twice in person -- in The Merry Widow with the Australians, and as Lady Capulet when LaScala brought Nureyev's R&J to the Met. (Oh, and once more when a friend who was a pianist at the Joffrey school invited me to observe her teach a Variations class. Lucky Me! ) But I have come to know her best through video. Watching repeatedly and with sharpened attention, I have come to appreciate her artistry. She was a very subtle dancer. I think the Big Idea behind the Royal style was decorum, not to be overly assertive, deportment appropriate to lesser courtiers. (This is, after all, a country that is very self-conscious about its monarchy.) In other words, never let 'em see you sweat. One of the most bizarre performances I ever saw was Merrill Ashley's Aurora with London Festival in the late '80s or '90. During the Prologue, I was so pleased by all those lovely arms and epaulement. Then, when Aurora made her first entrance, wow! Someone who could really cover space! The LFB (now English National) danced on an even smaller scale than the Royal, and seeing the huge-moving Ashley -- with her rigid shoulders and flyaway arms -- on the same stage as those static dancers of the lyrical upper bodies, brought into jarring relief the two very unharmonious styles, clarifying the differences between two very branches of the Diaghilev diaspora.

Alexandra, I am so with you on this. I love the distinct national styles that were so identifiable until they started to blend during last 10-15 years. I found the unforced lyricism of the earlier English generations so beautiful, and while that style would not have been my choice as a steady diet, having a chance to relax into it for a couple of weeks every few years during RB's semi-regular visits here (something else I miss), was a great treat.

Hans, sorry if my meaning wasn't quite clear. Any good ballet can be equally fun to watch or to dance, I'm sure. I am sure, too, that you wouldn't have become a dancer at all if, as a child, you didn't get enormous pleasure from just dancing around (before you did your first plie) to whatever music captured your fancy. I was assuming -- perhaps incorrectly -- that most dancers got more joy from doing than from watching. I never performed, never was taught any choreography per se, but I did take class as an adult, and choosing between class and a performance, the program and cast had to be pretty darned compelling to lure me from the studio. My interpretation of "Just dance, dear," is that Balanchine was so fed up seeing insincere interactions and heavy-handed, unconvincing [ahem] Acting that he wanted the dancers to find their own meanings in his melding of steps and music, and he was willing to let them find them on their own. He did not see his role as an acting coach. This is very different from washing all emotion out of the dancing. Unfortunately, many of his dancers (and many who read this quote) took his words at face value. I think very few of Balanchine's famous quotes can be taken at face value. There's usually another level of meaning. Didn't he delight in being enigmatic? I do think that he preferred his ice maidens to be aloof, though, for these ladies were objects of adoration.

But wouldn't that have been true with most ballets that were musical and devoted to dance (as opposed to, say, dramatic) content? And isn't that why you chose to be a dancer?

From her dismissive comments about the roles in Dancing on My Grave :confused: , I don't think Gelsey would have poured the heart into Swan Lake to own it. She seemed not to have much interest in exploring the role. I wonder, if given a few years over which to return to it, she might have found something to latch onto. Still, Alexandra, it should have been a great fit. Coulda, woulda, shoulda . . . Martine van Hamel is my choice, too. Grand, yet vulnerable. And what gorgeous line! By the end, she was able to fuse her mime and dancing, making it hard at times to distinguish one from the other. When I see Swan Lake in my mind, it is invariably Martine whom I see.

In these leotard ballets (and others, as well), I don't think Balanchine used his dancers to represent humans, animals or angels at all. I think he used them in much the way a painter uses the colors on his palette: green is green, not foliage, although it can be used to evoke foliage. So, by juxtaposing his dancers against each other and having them move in particular ways in relation to the music, he could suggest some aspect of the human condition that the viewer would respond to mentally or emotionally. The first time I saw 4T's, it stunned me with multiple epiphanies -- musicality, choreographic structure, the ability of a dance to be austere and lyrical at the same time . . . Loved it then, love it still.

This recent correlation could be part of Bart Cook's legacy, Leigh. I refer to the new "Bart Cook" thread on the "Dancers" Forum. He did both roles -- and both so purely and eloquently.

I think I've seen enough Kirov renditions of the Shades act over the years to conclude that, whether thru custom or artistic imperative, their Nikiyas are remote. The idea seems to be to distinguish this act from the corporeal ones (whether it is danced in context or not) by distilling it into an abstraction. Even Assymuratova, who could almost be seen as yearning beneath the surface, never really connected with her Solor. She sort of hovered around him. It's not an approach that I prefer (Solor's vision: wouldn't he imagine his ideal love to be more passionate?) but it is valid.

I attended the Thursday and Friday nights, and to my eye, the RDB and Bolshoi contingents both relaxed into better performances with time. That Don Q, though . . . definitely Vegas! Most of my responses have already been noted one way or another, but I have to insert a special commendation for Thursday night's Fancy Free. The Sailors: Salstein, Hallberg, Gomes; the women: Herrera, Kent. During the pas de deux, I got the distinct feeling that Julie was developing real feelings for her sailor (Marcelo), and that anything could happen. I had never gotten that delicious sense of erotic possibility from that pas before. Also, her responses to the sailors' variations were absolutely delightful. She stopped just short of upstaging them. It was fun to see Paloma in a role where she didn't have to sell her technique. I enjoyed Salstein (but a little less would have been better), and Hallberg, though promising here, was still very much the classical prince -- not completely comfortable in the jazzier vernacular.

A post script, but you specifically asked. The house was jam-packed on Saturday night. It appeared sold-out. Neither Nutcracker I saw this season was as full as that house. The response both nights was surprisingly tepid.:confused:

I attended both Thursday and Saturday evening, and there were distinct differences in the performances. In Act I on Thursday, I felt Ringer was mugging a bit and dancing with a grandeur that was misplaced. Happily, by Saturday she was more natural and more scaled to the relatively intimate feeling of the piece. I was charmed by Askegard, but don't feel he was entirely comfortable with the choreography. LaFosse kept Coppelius on the slightly dotty (rather than really creepy) side. Unfortunately, he completely fell out of character during Act II. Or perhaps a miracle cure for arthritis was part of this Coppelius' back-story. The Saturday Coppelius was Adam Hendrickson, a touching and fully conceptualized portrayal of that weird kid who was shunned in school and grows up to shun society and live in a world of his own creation. Very sensitive. On Saturday, Jenny had trouble with the Scottish dance -- muddling the turned-in/turned-out second position plies. Kaplow was racing way ahead of her. The Act III shoulder lifts, whose preparation caused a degree of fuss on Thursday, went more smoothly on Saturday, as Askegard hunched over to put his shoulder at a better height. Not elegant, but an improvement. The trouble would seem to come from the discrepancy between the heights of this particular Swanilda and Frantz. Otherwise the adage was beautifully and sensitively danced. Askegard simplified his variation on Saturday, avoiding the trouble he had during the previous air turn-pirouette combination. By coda time both nights, Ringer seemed to be riding the crest of an endorphin wave. What a joy to see! None of the Act III soloists was truly outstanding on Saturday. I enjoyed Mandrajieff in the Waltz of the Hours on Thursday, less so the second time. Dena Abergel's Prayer on Thursday was commanding and grandly benevolent. Quite lovely. I've tried -- really tried -- to withhold judgment in favor of a straight account, Michael, but it's so hard!