Royal Blue

I also attended the Sunday evening performance on May 5 by the ABT Studio Company. The program included the following:

Diana and Acteon pas de deux (after Agrippina Vaganova) 

Flight of the Bumblebee (Brady Farrar) 

The Seasons pas de deux (Alexei Ratmansky) 

“Neapolitan Dance” from Swan Lake (after Marius Petipa) 

Young & Beautiful (James Whiteside) 

And after an intermission:

Known By Heart Duet © (Twyla Tharp) 

“Rose Adagio” from The Sleeping Beauty (after Marius Petipa) 

Night Falls (Brady Farrar) 

Within the Sunset (Amy Hall Garner) 

Besides the last piece, which left me lukewarm, I enjoyed the entire program. Most of the dancing was excellent. Although I wanted to identify every company member, the ability to tell with certainty—based on their photos—who was dancing in each piece eluded me. For that reason, I will only mention a couple of them. Brady Farrar seems like a budding star. And Kyra Coco, an ABT apprentice, displayed commendable savvy and finesse in Farrar's Night Falls to music by Chopin. 

Several songs by Lana Del Rey comprise the music for James Whiteside's Young & Beautiful, with the eponymous one as the finale. The work movingly addresses the trials and tribulations of young people pursuing a career in the competitive field of ballet. However, the final song's music and lyrics ("Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? / Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul") resound with a poignancy that encompasses the experience of all dancers. I would have liked to see the program and this work in particular again during the run.

For the weekend matinees during this run (May 4 and 5), there were performances by the Pre-Professional Division of the ABT JKO School at the Joyce. My curiosity about the excerpts from the classics on the program led me to buy tickets for both. Not having attended any such performances before, my expectations were held in check. What a fantastic, rich experience it was to watch these young ballet dancers perform in both the aforementioned excerpts and other works! 

As the curtain went up to Tchaikovsky's music from The Sleeping Beauty, the audience observed the unique spectacle of more than seventy dancers—beautifully posed—teeming the stage of this intimate theater. Certain recent thoughts about the role and significance of a crowded stage in this ballet made such an opening particularly resonant and moving to me. A succession of so-called Class/Character Demonstrations or Dances by various choreographers followed the brief initial selection of excerpts from The Sleeping Beauty. The music ranged from Sergei Prokofiev and André Messager to Mikis Theodorakis and others. A solo titled Tunnel Vision, snippets of choreography by students set to music by Caroline Shaw, and a work by the artistic directors of Complexions Contemporary Ballet to Baroque music composed by Vivaldi rounded out the first half of the program. None of this multifarious material felt redundant or excessive to me, partly because of the brevity of each piece and the dedication, gusto, and beauty exhibited in the performances of the students. 

Nevertheless, what followed the intermission was grander. The first lakeside scene in Swan Lake is one of the most aesthetically fulfilling and metaphorically rich in ballet. Virtually every reenactment of it on stage casts its spell. Consequently, viewing the "Act II Suite" which included the White Swan Pas de Deux, and the choreography for the Little Swans, the Big Swans, and the Corps de Ballet provided unmitigated delight. And what an extraordinary treat it was to observe Devon Teuscher (an alumna of the ABT JKO school) perform exquisitely as the Swan Queen in the haunting Pas on both afternoons! Another guest and current ABT principal dancer, Joo Won Ahn, partnered her elegantly as Prince Siegfried. 

Twyla Tharp's The Ballet Master, offered three months ago at this theater, made me conscious of my foolishness in having skipped ABT performances of Don Quixote for so long. That made the extended dance excerpts from all three acts of the ballet offered by the Pre-Professional Division in its "Don Quixote Suite" all that more desirable. The Dream Scene from Act II was particularly breathtaking on both Saturday and Sunday.  

Indeed, it was rewarding to attend both days since there were so many casting changes in the program, and different students performed separate segments of choreography for the major roles (Kitri and Basilio, for example) each afternoon. This offered the audience an opportunity to gauge the talent of diverse students. And there was plenty of marvelous talent on display from females and males of various racial backgrounds. It was difficult, in fact, to keep track of everyone showing promise. However, I must single out the two young women cast as Amour in the Dream Scene. A young black woman of stately appearance—equally impressive earlier in the Complexions piece—assumed the role on Saturday. And the entire demeanor and expression of the young blonde who enacted the role Sunday afternoon, combined with delightful dancing, mesmerized me every second she occupied the stage. What thrilling presence and charisma this individual projected! Appropriately then, given the impact of the two weekend performances, the imaginary arrows shot by both found their way into my heart and left me enamored with the ABT JKO school.

There was a wonderful, extremely helpful insert made of hard paper tucked into the week's regular Studio Company program, listing all the selections performed and the names of the ABT JKO School Pre-Professional Division students who participated. 

There has to be something about a dancer that makes them appealing to look at when they are performing on stage, and leaves a mark on the mind and soul after a performance finishes. This necessarily involves physical appearance, but also technique, artistry, musicality, strength somehow fused with ethereality, sound judgment—in sum, the mysterious way assorted elements combine in a fashion that is both impossible and inadvisable to disentangle. Disregarding a person's appearance on the stage is untenable. However, a certain indefinable attractiveness—not physical beauty per se—is what makes a dancer truly beautiful. 

Additionally, dancing in a ballet company is not just another job, although there are obvious reasons why it may be considered so. Becoming a ballet dancer involves years of training at a young age. A dancer's perception of their art has to evolve and blossom as they gain performing experience, learn about the wider world, and grow into adulthood. The ultimate goal and achievement of a ballet dancer should be to communicate in performance a lofty appreciation of the art form. Certainly, ballet is profoundly visual. The work of its most successful interpreters, nevertheless, stirs deep emotion, and intimates to the imagination the infinite universe invisible to the eye.  

There was plenty of transporting beauty in the dancing of the Dances at a Gathering—Brahms-Schoenberg Quartet program on Sunday. To be sure, by several men mentioned above. This was especially the case with the women in the cast, though. Indiana Woodward (in pink), and Emilie Gerrity (in mauve) were stupendous in Dances. After a tenuous effort in the second movement of Brahms two weeks ago, Olivia MacKinnon (in apricot) was simply stunning in the wonderful ballet by Robbins. With a smoothness, flow and musicality that were sublime, Mira Nadon demonstrated how the second movement of Brahms-Schoenberg Quartet should be danced. Finally, both Miriam Miller in the first movement, and Unity Phelan in Rondo alla Zingarese were dazzling.

There were three works in Twyla Tharp's program at the Joyce this past February: Ocean's Motion, from 1975, and two new pieces—Brel, and The Ballet Master. Every major point expressed in the posts above about this program is valid. Ocean's Motion was interesting since it evoked the atmosphere of a relatively recent period in American history that increasingly appears distant in time. And, as danced by either Herman Cornejo or Daniel Ulbricht, Brel was superb.

The Ballet Master, however, had a notable impact and made a sweeping difference for me. Although John Selya, Ulbricht, Cassandra Trenary, and the other dancers in the cast were excellent in their respective roles, strangely enough, it was not on the surface a particularly beautiful work. Nevertheless, it led to essential reflection and greater insight about what makes Don Quixote such a priceless classical ballet.

While this show was presented at the Joyce, one of the programs offered by New York City Ballet consisted of Rotunda, Concerto for Two Pianos, and Odesa. Given a choice, I would opt for the latter every time, since I find greater overt beauty in Concerto for Two Pianos and Odesa. Undoubtedly, however, it was consequential to view The Ballet Master at this time.

Alexei Ratmansky's Solitude is a ballet that leads to earnest contemplation of the art form and its purpose. Odesa is a splendid work, which I am eager and willing to view many times. Paradoxical as it may seem, nonetheless, Don Quixote—not Odesa—provides the searing contrast for proper consideration of the issues about life and art that Solitude raises.

In art, as in life, there is a fluctuating process in action that cannot or should not be disturbed. One relishes discovering and exploring the portions of music and choreography of an endearing ballet that are deeply moving for oneself. How would excising the less attractive parts, nevertheless, affect our perception and enjoyment of those peaks? Trusting anyone to chop up the music or choreography of a favorite ballet, especially those who dislike it in the first place, is preposterous. 

Despite a few glaring errors, Friday evening's performance of the splendid Dances at a Gathering did not feel long at all, primarily due to the magnificence of Tiler Peck's artistry, glorious dancing by Unity Phelan, a worthy contribution by Alston Macgill, and the fine partnering of all three by the men during key moments.  

No question, Balanchine's Brahms-Schoenberg Quartet is profuse and exuberant. However, his treatment seems perfectly suited to the sumptuous orchestration of the superb yet luxuriant Piano Quartet in G minor itself.  

Dancers spend years in training and preparation in order for their dancing to appear, paradoxically, as natural and unrehearsed as possible when they perform on the stage. On Friday evening, Emma Von Enck and Anthony Huxley successfully created and sustained throughout the Andante section of Brahms-Schoenberg Quartet this imperative illusion. 

One chief reason to view this cast of the ballet again is the desire to re-experience Emilie Gerrity's breathtakingly beautiful performance in the opening Allegro. Another would be to witness Sara Mearns' unforgettable turn in Rondo alla Zingarese again, among the most revitalizing and uplifting one can encounter at the ballet. 

The melodic vigor and dazzling whirl of sound, combined with sublime transitioning to moments of noble solemnity and defiance, lends the music of Rondo alla Zingarese a mesmerizing splendor and character, making listening to it performed live in the concert hall or theater both a tremendous pleasure and an essential requirement. 
 

Why judge an artist only by their finest work(s)? Aren't an artist's best creations better understood and appreciated in light of the artist’s entire output? Not to mention any disagreements about what their highest achievements actually might be.

At the time Georges Bizet completed his Symphony in C he was only 17 years old. Although its other three movements are delightful, it is the second (Andante—Adagio) which stuns at the compositional skill of—and emotional beauty and truth expressed by—such a young composer. No doubt, the high point of Balanchine's Symphony in C is its second section, accompanied by Bizet's sublime music. This does not mean, however, that it should be performed separately on its own, or that the choreography of the other three segments does not appositely sparkle with joyousness and brilliance.

New York City Ballet has a large and varied repertoire. Those who attend its performances regularly cannot expect (or, frankly, should even want) to view only undisputed "masterpieces." Bourée Fantasque, The Steadfast Tin Soldier, and Errante are lesser works, but the company's first program of the spring provided an eyeful of interest and beauty throughout Wednesday evening.

In addition to any loveliness one might perceive in Bourée Fantasque, its sheer energy and humor are—upon sober consideration—attributes which are always vital and welcome in this paradoxical world. And the same applies to the opportunity to hear the vibrant music of Emmanuel Chabrier performed live. (The gentle music heard during the middle portion of the ballet, tenderly led by Emilie Gerrity and Gilbert Bolden III Wednesday evening, provides an enchanting, glorious contrast.) Mira Nadon, Emma Von Enck, and the members of the corps were dazzling. One craves an optimal vantage point from which to witness all those thrilling grand jetés at the end of the work.

As expected, Megan Fairchild and Daniel Ulbricht were engaging and well-matched in The Steadfast Tin Soldier.

In addition to her other qualities as a woman and ballet dancer, Mira Nadon appears too bright not to have seized the opportunity to give a tremendous performance in Errante, especially working closely with such an illustrious predecessor at the company, and originator of the role in question. 

Graced by a majestic performance from Unity Phelan (partnered by Alec Knight) in its exalted fundamental core, Symphony in C featured alluring performances by its huge cast, inducing as often happens earnest reflection at its conclusion of the symbolism and significance of this work, this company, and the entire art form of ballet to the world at large.

11 minutes ago, abatt said:

Just curious.  How was the "second cast" that debuted in Solitude on Tuesday, featuring LaFreniere and Phelan in the secondary roles

For me, as I implied, Isabella LaFreniere and Unity Phelan were fabulous. (Incidentally, the gravity of LaFreniere's expression at one point was so extraordinarily impressive and moving as to make me wonder who I was watching.) Of course, I would have liked to see the first cast with Mira Nadon and Sara Mearns in these roles also. As you pointed out above, however, this is a ballet that should work with all these dancers anyway.

There is disagreement, certainly, about the merit of the piece by Robbins in the program. Ratmansky's new work is dark and bleak, but one understands that to be the case from the comments made. For the vast majority of those who love New York City Ballet, the ballet by Balanchine hardly needs defending. From my perspective, a program consisting of Opus 19/The Dreamer, Solitude, and Symphony in Three Movements is simply brilliant!

With one exception (I like to watch Alexa Maxwell dance when she is scheduled to do so, not when she replaces Tiler Peck), the casting for this program on Tuesday evening was fabulous.

It is occasionally and properly observed in this forum that for anyone truly intrigued by ballet the experience of watching it live is indispensable. An essential corollary of this is that nothing can replace knowing the dancers and repertoire of a company very well, in order to decide for oneself who and what to splurge for whenever it is possible and necessary.

7 hours ago, MarzipanShepherdess said:

Late posting this, but I was impressed by Tiler's company choreographic debut. I'd rather see it stay in the rep than pretty much any Martins ballet and a not inconsiderable number of the recent commissions (like the Reisens). She's got chops! And a good eye for casting, and she chose a great piece of music. She is really gifted at bringing out the most in her dancers, giving everyone ample opportunities to do what they do best: Mira looked extra-lush, Roman extra-playful and charismatic, India and Emma extra-quick and precise, etc. Would happily see this one again.

Rotunda to me is a bit of a filler ballet: I don't dislike it, but I would feel no pang of disappointment if I never got to see it again. I think Peck utilizes a lot of the motifs he's exploring here to greater impact elsewhere. Though, I'll take any chance to see Daniel Ulbricht get to do something besides Jester/Fancy Free sailor type roles: he was the highlight of this for me, and was wonderful in Odesa as well. My first time seeing Odesa and I loved it! Indiana was just stunning in it and it's so inventive and engaging. I also loved the music Ratmansky chose. So excited for his forthcoming works with the company.

Not going to contrast Tiler Peck's ballet with any by Peter Martins, or other recent commissions. However, after viewing the "New Combinations" program on February 8 (the second "Art Series" performance of the 2024 Winter Season), quoting the entire post above is requisite since I wholeheartedly agree with various major points expressed in it. 

Watching Sara Mearns dance to György Ligeti's Hopp ide tisztán in Polyphonia was a moving experience. Musically, nothing comparable occurs in Rotunda, although watching the latter when followed by a couple of terrific ballets such as the other two on the program is not an issue. (Daniel Ulbricht dancing to the music of Jacques Brel as choreographed by Twyla Tharp sounds more appealing.)

Ample beauty and excitement permeate Concerto for Two Pianos throughout. The women in particular—soloists and corps—danced arrestingly in their gorgeous costumes. In the plushiest roles, both Mira Nadon and Roman Mejia acquit themselves magnificently. How Tiler Peck would respond to one particularly magical section of Poulenc's score aroused considerable anticipation. In the event, breathtakingly beautiful lighting and color, and heart-melting choreographic allure suffuses this segment danced by Mejia and members of the female corps.

Ratmansky’s Odesa is simply phenomenal, every moment of its duration likewise filled with beauty and excitement, in addition to drama. My inclination to defend this ballet when it premiered in 2017, and particularly the potent moment with a woman tossed around by a group of men as one hears the culminating portion of the music, is nothing compared to my willingness to do so today. In a serious role, Indiana Woodward was, indeed, absolutely stunning, displaying simultaneously both an unerring dramatic sensibility and stirring technical aplomb.  Nevertheless, Unity Phelan and Megan Fairchild were spectacular too. Nor were the three male soloists—Adrian Danchig-Waring, Anthony Huxley and Ulbricht—or, indeed, all the corps members in the cast, far behind. There is no reason to doubt that the second cast will be outstanding as well, but of the two, I preferred catching the first. It is disgraceful and disappointing, on my part, to view this work and program only once this season!

Odesa and the rest of Ratmansky's output for New York City Ballet makes the prospect of watching the dancers listed in the cast for his new work set to the particular movements culled from Mahler's symphonies (especially Mearns, Nadon, Woodward and Laracey) insanely enticing. 

2 hours ago, Novice123 said:

I'm not a Taylor Swift fan, I don't listen to her music but she's to blame for the decline of ballet?  

I do not blame Taylor Swift for anything, in part because I do not know much about her. Nor do I blame Travis Kelce, football, or football fans. But that all these have been on the news a lot recently is, I think, undeniable.

Preston Chamblee does have an unusually hefty build for a ballet dancer, and that is why I made a reference to all the above in my post. In my opinion, this type of appearance and ballet do not mix very well on the stage.

Casting Preston Chamblee in any work is not an indication of the decline of ballet (for me anyway). And why should I assume that he is deserving of any fewer opportunities to perform than any other dancer?

More to the point, I have absolutely nothing on other authorities of ballet who witnessed New York City Ballet from the 50s to the 80s, American Ballet Theatre, the Royal Ballet, the Paris Opera Ballet, the Bolshoi Ballet, the Mariinsky Ballet and other ballet companies in past years on the subject of the decline of the art form.

In fact, I suspect that at least some other members of BA who happen to read what I write look askance at the praise I tend to heap on particular works and performances by dancers in my posts. That happens because I am only motivated to write when I see something I like. (And I would add that by no means do I always post about what I have enjoyed seeing.) In sum, however, no one who has read what I have written would have any indication about a decline of the art form. The decline of the audience as represented by me, though, yes. 🙂

Ballet companies and dancers should certainly aim high, and audiences expect that they do. Virtually every program in my experience of watching New York City Ballet, nevertheless, provides a refutation of the witty dictum that "Ballet is only good when it is great." The art form would have a difficult time surviving if that were true. And who decides what is "great" anyway?

Wednesday evening's program consisted of Polyphonia, Barber Violin Concerto and The Times Are Racing. Each contains features to inspire and enchant, even if none in its totality can be described as a masterpiece. 

Watching Polyphonia was a breeze, on account first and foremost of the comeliness and splendid dancing of Unity Phelan and Indiana Woodward. Replacing Sara Mearns, Sara Adams exhibited affecting loveliness and gravitas in the pivotal sixth segment of the work. 

Yearning is as natural as breathing in humans, especially for the artistically inclined. And yearning permeates the music and conceit of Barber Violin Concerto. With the right cast, the substantive first and second sections of the ballet can be dramatic and moving. Unfortunately, notwithstanding his handsome appearance, elegance and strength, Preston Chamblee's football player-type build makes him appear unsuited for ballet. (Even in a work in which he impersonates a modern dance performer.) This is singularly distracting during the Taylor Swift phase of American popular culture history we are currently living through. With her long, lithe limbs, luscious blonde hair either up or down, and gorgeous countenance, Miriam Miller looked as stunning as ever without quite yet conveying the deep yearning and inner passion her role should ideally evoke. 

Although a peculiar work for New York City Ballet, The Times Are Racing never fails to thrill in the theater, no matter the cast. On Wednesday, the wonderful lines made by Peter Walker's tall frame were particularly impressive. Of course, the performances by Tiler Peck, Taylor Stanley, Kristen Segin, Mary Thomas MacKinnon, and the rest of the cast were delightful also. (Emilie Gerrity's physique is more symmetrical with the other two women than is Alexa Maxwell's, but that is a minor quibble.) Premiering only seven years ago, The Times Are Racing boasts one of the most rousing finales in New York City Ballet's repertory, which brought the evening to a stirring conclusion.   

On 1/26/2023 at 2:26 PM, vipa said:

Interesting topic, Bellawood. I haven't read Arthur's review, but for me a tremendous source of enjoyment in watching some of Balanchine's great works is that an atmosphere is created and a story/relationship perhaps implied, but as an audience member I am free to make of it what I will. What I see and feel when watching a particular ballet can change over time, or with different casts. From what I've read, and been told by people who danced for Balanchine, he didn't explain what his ballets "meant." That was a gift to them and to us.

A few years ago, I came across an article about an interactive work of art and instantly felt (and still do) that it was something that wouldn't interest me. And yet, I am mistaken. 

This is at the top of the Wikipedia entry on the subject: “Interactive art is a form of art that involves the spectator in a way that allows the art to achieve its purpose. Some interactive art installations achieve this by letting the observer walk through, over or around them; others ask the artist or the spectators to become part of the artwork in some way.”

One of the greatest achievements of Jerome Robbins' Afternoon of a Faun is that it can make one deeply conscious of the extent to which all art is interactive. The only question is the level of this interaction. At its greatest, uncovering the layers of meaning and significance in any exceptional work of art through our intuition and knowledge, our innermost feelings and thoughts, our imagination and experience is something to truly marvel at and inspire awe. Without this critical process can an ambitious work of art “achieve its purpose"? Any great artwork, essentially, invites the observer to "walk through, over or around" it. Furthermore, artists always become "part of the artwork in some way" they have created. Through the vital act of interpretation and the meaning attributed to a work, so does the spectator. An artist is also a spectator of their own work. A spectator of a fascinating work of art—deep down—must effectively “become” or emulate the artist. And, ultimately, the artist needs the spectator as much as the spectator needs the artist.

Regardless of how "abstract" Balanchine's ballets that have no plot may be considered to be, it is interesting to note how any specific work of his is perceived and analyzed by different observers. Not only did watching New York City Ballet closely have a phenomenal impact on my appreciation of this type of ballet, but it also led to reflection about the relative merits of abstract and narrative art in general. Moreover, it made me more cognizant of an essential abstract quality in the greatest narrative works of art of our culture, without which they would not have survived. 

During the year 2023, for example, ballet audiences in New York City had the opportunity to view performances of The Sleeping Beauty in the winter, Romeo and Juliet during the summer, and Prodigal Son last fall. All three narrative ballets are adaptations of esteemed literary works that have been around for centuries or even millennia. To add to the point vipa made in the quote above (in the course of a discussion about Aria II of Stravinsky Violin Concerto), those who created the incalculably significant Awakening Scene, the denouement in the Capulet crypt, and the P/prodigal's return to his F/father gifted us veritably by never explaining what they meant, either. Through the magic of "interactive" art, these monumental stories and scenes conceived ages ago retain the profundity, sense of mystery, and eternally modern relevance inherent in them. 

Ballet in its absolute, pristine form takes place on a stage in front of an audience; its essence requires that it be performed live. Filmed ballet—even if the camera is positioned in the back of the theater and the image of the entire stage remains steady throughout the performance—relates as much to film as it does to ballet. There is simply no equivalent to watching and becoming acquainted with a particular ballet in person. Furthermore, the vantage point from which one views a dance performance matters greatly. No single seat or area of a theater—and by inference, sole viewing—can possibly provide the all-encompassing perspective necessary to fully appreciate the multifarious beauty of a great ballet. For these reasons, the shifting frame aspect one can encounter in a video recording of a specific ballet should theoretically be neither disorienting nor objectionable to anyone familiar with it. Even though it is considered a nuisance by some, a balanced blend of long, medium, and close-up shots is logical and beneficial. Different choices with comparable validity during the filming of the company’s Serenade in Madrid were possible. Those made by the director, however, resulted in a superlative taping of this sublime work. The sheer variety of perspectives on view and the evident advantages afforded by playback made possible the observation of an abundance of exquisite details in the choreography for both the soloists and the corps. Additionally, the gorgeous mix of blue-white, blue, and light green hues reflected in the costumes, backdrop, and flooring, and the contrasting shades of light and dark attained through the lighting, accentuated the pleasure of watching this video.

Those with greater knowledge and experience of Balanchine and the New York City Ballet of past years may lament any erosion in style they perceive in today's performances by the company. And they can pinpoint what went awry or could have been done better in the Madrid performance of Serenade. To me, however, the video recording is intensely beautiful and merits plentiful rewatching. This speaks, naturally, of the greatness of the music and the choreography. Moreover, it is indicative of the quality of the performances by the dancers, including the splendid women of the corps and the outstanding Russell Janzen and Aarón Sanz. Above all, the recording brilliantly captures the art and incandescent beauty of Unity Phelan, Indiana Woodward, and Miriam Miller in a pivotal ballet. There is, emphatically, nothing wrong with watching a ballet or a dancer for the first time at the theater or otherwise. Nonetheless, my appreciation of the video is doubtless immeasurably enhanced by my previous live viewings of Serenade (including this past fall) and my familiarity with the work of all the dancers besides the newest in the corps.  

There was no weakness either in the casting of the two other works in the program, Square Dance and The Times Are Racing. Together, they amount to a handsome bonus. In particular, the execution and clarity of the steps by Megan Fairchild demonstrated what a magnificent role the female lead dances in the enchanting Balanchine. While grateful for the opportunity to savor the many excellent performances in the controversial The Times Are Racing (especially the one by Tiler Peck), the video recording confirmed how critical it is to view this “sneaker ballet” at the theater. Strange to observe, considering that a portion of the audience strongly dislikes it. Nevertheless, Dan Deacon's contentious music is essential to the appeal of The Times Are Racing and is decidedly more impactful when heard in the auditorium. 

Created by Paul Taylor in the midst of the stock market's dot-com bubble woes and a few months before the terrorist attacks, Black Tuesday premiered in April 2001. A dance work set during the Great Depression to popular songs from the 1930s somehow did not appear inviting when glancing at the programs of upcoming performances a few years ago. Nevertheless, my concerns were immediately allayed when I finally saw the work in 2019. Most significantly, the music is catchy and, at times, quite moving. Six of the eight songs are surprisingly upbeat, while two are intensely poignant. Just as vitally, however, the twilit lighting, the redolent backdrops, and the period costumes combine with the music and Taylor's engaging choreography to impart authenticity and an autumnal beauty to the work. With its masterful combination of light and dark elements, Black Tuesday has the capacity to stir deep emotions and bring forth the paradoxes and ironies intrinsic to this great nation, to history, to civilization, to art, and to life to the forefront of consciousness.

Those substantial moments of Black Tuesday in which robust gaiety is displayed in the dancing are not merely superficially attractive, but indicative of the resilience of the American people and the human capability to experience pleasure in the midst of difficult circumstances. Still, the choreography set to the haunting "Boulevard of Broken Dreams", and "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?" is what gives the work its requisite verisimilitude and depth. The latter is heard during the last segment of Black Tuesday, which ends on a note of a powerful solemnity appropriate to the subject. In this season's performances, the superb Alex Clayton danced the main role with distinctive explosiveness. Notably, the backdrop changes as the song plays, starkly reminding us of the ultimate background to all earthly endeavors.

All the music was unfamiliar and pleasantly surprised me back in 2019, none more so than the riveting song for the work's sixth segment. To the heartrending music and lyrics of "Boulevard of Broken Dreams", a woman of the night dances passionately before being approached by five men emerging from the wing. In one of the most harrowing and impactful yet truthful moments in the field of dance, they proceed to briefly toss her around, dump her like a rug on the ground, and exit the stage. This episode instantly reminded me of the discussion sparked by a similar occurrence in Ratmansky's Odesa, which coincidentally will be revived by New York City Ballet this winter. Unfortunately, not only is this entire segment of Black Tuesday disturbingly effective in mirroring reality, but it also works on a symbolic level. All human beings at some point encounter disappointment in their aspirations, and are forced to re-examine their dreams. Beyond that, however, our modern world is fast-paced, highly technological, crowded, super eventful. A vast array of economic, political, social, scientific, and cultural forces at play affect all our lives in ways we are dimly aware of, let alone fully understand. Not to mention those forces that are unknowable. Every human being on the planet is one way or another "tossed around" like that hapless woman. This year, Maria Ambrose added "gigolette" to the list of major roles she has performed commendably since joining the company four and a half years ago. 

Clearly, I was unaware that Christina Lynch Markham is also retiring from the company. Despite her unconventional body type, she had her moments (including in Fibers at the Joyce) and matched the athleticism and enthusiasm of her colleagues in performing the Taylor repertoire. Both Lynch Markham and Eran Bugge took their Lincoln Center farewell bows on Sunday afternoon, after another joyous performance of Esplanade.  
 

The Paul Taylor Dance Company, of course, experienced a remarkable turnover between 2018 and 2022. Those five dancers who retired after (or soon after?) the company's 2019 Lincoln Center Season, including Robert Kleinendorst whom I failed to mention in a post on another thread because he remained in the background, had fortuitously singular timing. With the impending retirement of Eran Bugge, the five newest members back in 2018 will suddenly become the veterans of the company. 

Thanks to nysusan for the important information provided. I would have attended anyway because of my ever-growing fondness for this company's repertoire and dancers, but I definitely appreciated knowing about Bugge since her sprightly dancing delighted me and her evocative mien led at times to profound reflection. Fortunately, she hung in there during the darkest days of the pandemic, which provided the opportunity to see her dance some splendid roles during The Paul Taylor Dance Company's appearance at The Joyce Theater in June 2022 and its Lincoln Center 2022 and 2023 seasons. Among those roles were humorous ones in Diggity and Black Tuesday and serious ones in Sunset, Last Look, and Eventide. 

An interpretation of the Parable of the Prodigal Son may have a religious slant or not. Either way, my conviction is that nothing ever happens or can happen in the world that does not lend greater resonance to this invaluable tale. One can certainly make similar claims on behalf of other great stories and the tremendous scenes found in them. Despite its minuscule length, however, I believe that this parable miraculously subsumes every other story ever told.

According to my humanistic interpretation, the prodigal must return home with nothing except the ragged clothes on his back, but also with a pure heart and a clear mind. He must evince as much humility as possible, without being ashamed to face his father. Both the son and the father are great personages, who at the end of the tale recognize and understand each other's genuine worth. 

New York City Ballet's performances of Balanchine's Prodigal Son are what led this viewer to reflect on the parable. The ballet and the choreographer's treatment of the story (as well as his decision not to substantively alter the work during future revivals) fascinate me. Admirably, he chose to tackle such a formidable subject at such a young age and, together with Serge Diaghilev, Boris Kochno, Sergei Prokofiev, and Georges Rouault, created this ballet in 1929. Yes, we should rejoice that after 75 years since George Balanchine and Lincoln Kirstein founded New York City Ballet, performances of such brilliant works as Apollo, Tschaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2, Concerto Barocco, Symphony in C, Serenade, and Theme and Variations occur in our city. Although less visually appealing than these and other Balanchine ballets, the significance nonetheless of Prodigal Son cannot be overestimated. Reviving it during the company's commemorative season was essential. 

Enlivened by Prokofiev's powerful score, and Balanchine's imaginative and spirited choreography, City Ballet's dusky production never before looked as effective and riveting as it did on Sunday afternoon. Virtually every cast I have seen in the past perform the ballet was enjoyable to watch, and this was likewise the case with the two this season. At all three performances, Preston Chamblee enacted the Father as a stern and inscrutable Divinity, consistent with Balanchine's vision. Anthony Huxley's youthful appearance in the second cast was an asset early in his depiction of the prodigal, but became more problematic later opposite the voluptuous and supple Siren of Sara Mearns, and during the final scene. (The benchmark for evoking carnality and sensuality in this ballet was set for me in a pre-pandemic performance with Mearns and Gonzalo Garcia.) There were explosive turns and jumps from Daniel Ulbricht as the prodigal in the other cast, alongside marked acting zeal and laudable partnering of a much taller woman. This latter was none other than Miriam Miller, whose confidence in portraying the Siren has grown in spades since her debut in the role years ago. Long, gorgeous limbs which made breathtaking extensions and poses inexorable, a beautiful visage and torso gaining prominence by Rouault's audacious, unforgettable costume, the manner she kept her alluring shoulders back and walked seductively across the stage, all proved any attempt to turn away the eyes from her any moment she was on the stage impossible. Obviously, there were other performances I loved during the afternoon, but Miriam Miller's was my favorite. 

There is no music or choreography or dramatic representation which can clarify to the mind the incredible subtleties inherent in the Parable of the Prodigal Son. And that is precisely how it should be. Dancers assigned the three main roles in Balanchine's ballet must simply focus, with the assistance of their coaches, on executing the steps skillfully and portraying vividly the characters as they conceive them. That is enough and plenty. 

11 hours ago, matilda said:

I know Tiler has been going through a lot in her personal life and I was grateful to see her dance tonight. 

 

I only know what is posted here by others, and I am similarly grateful for her performance last evening. She was brilliant in Symphony in C, as she was last Sunday in Tschaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2. All the ballets performed by New York City Ballet this week are made more affecting and meaningful by the awareness of the difficult moments she and her family are currently going through. Theme and Variations is a work I strongly associate with Tiler Peck.

No matter how far down any Balanchine ballet list —in terms of quality and substance— Western Symphony, Tarantella, Stars and Stripes, Bourrée Fantasque, Slaughter on Tenth Avenue and La Sonnambula may be considered, they all offered me great enjoyment this past week. Olivia MacKinnon, Indiana Woodward and Unity Phelan were glorious in Western Symphony. The dancing by Mira Nadon and Daniel Ulbricht in Stars and Stripes, and Emily Kikta in Bourrée Fantesque was similarly spectacular. With her stunningly gorgeous looks when her lush blonde hair is down and her high-flying kicking in Slaughter on Tenth Avenue, Miriam Miller stupefied me in the way she will soon proceed to do (as the Siren) the Prodigal Son. 

Practically any impersonation of a woman from the past (especially the nineteenth century) by Ashley Laracey moves this viewer deeply. Although I was miffed not to see her in "The Unanswered Question", she has happily returned to the stage rapidly. The exquisiteness of her artistry was evident in her dancing and portrayal of the Coquette in La Sonnambula too. (Incidentally, as well as ironically, my first real notice of Laracey was in Ivesiana.)

No one questions the great worth of Allegra Kent, Suki Schorer, Janie Taylor and others. However, in its staging, unique choreography and music, "The Unanswered Question" is brimming with spirituality and mystery! Despite the distraction of her hair covering her face at times, Sara Adams was indeed splendid in this phenomenal fragment. Viewing it only once this season was unfortunate. 

Tomorrow and the next few days, I expect torrential praise for this fall's second cast of Apollo in this subforum. My expectations for all the debuts are also high. This will not detract one iota, however, from the beauty of the performances by Unity Phelan, Emilie Gerrity, Sara Adams and Adrian Danchig-Waring in the first cast. In my opinion, Apollo is an extraordinarily beautiful ballet. 

During the past decade, how many times has New York City Ballet consummately performed Tschaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2? Nevertheless, on Wednesday evening, with Sara Mearns and Tyler Angle as the leads, it registered as a more sublime work than ever. The expansiveness and refinement of the dancing by Mearns and Angle, combined with the resplendence of the music and the luminance of Emily Kikta and the rest of the troupe, transported one into a different, ethereal realm altogether.

A few years ago at City Center, an audience watched Carla Körbes on stage work out for a bit at the barre. This was part of a special program associated with the Vail Dance Festival, and Damian Woetzel was the host. In his comments, he glowingly mentioned the church-like atmosphere that permeated his beloved teacher's ballet classes. With the lighting and stage setup, and the piano music playing, seeing Körbes was a notable experience.

One hears all the time about dancers going to "class". Why would a lover of that art form who is not a ballet professional necessarily be incurious and uninterested in how a company class functions? As SingerWhoMoves notes, we should always be conscious of the hard work, training, and commitment required to present a wide variety of works on stage.

It would be completely unreal and bizarre for the dancers not to have been aware of the audience observing them on Saturday. Nevertheless, people simply did not barge in on that class, but arrived by invitation. By definition, this is not intrusive.

It would be simply appalling and disgraceful, however, to have forced any dancer to participate in that class on Saturday. Jonathan Stafford and Wendy Whelan, I trust, are individuals who would not countenance anything of the kind. 

Going further, no person should ever be compelled to dance publicly on a stage. And, for that matter, one should not involuntarily drag anyone to view a ballet performance. 

With all of the above said, ballet is a beautiful art form to take seriously. Ballet dancers, in my eyes, are among the elite troops on the front lines of civilization's unceasing struggle against philistinism.

Just because I believe (like others) that this season's All Balanchine III, IV and V programs are much stronger does not quite mean that I look down on the ballets of I and II. 

"The Unanswered Question" is a fragment of a ballet. It is brief, dark, unusual, powerful, haunting. It is also one of those plotless works that paradoxically most beckons the viewer to visualize and explain its backstory. To wit, it goes perfectly in a season with Orpheus, and I am glad it was fit somewhere, on any program! It would be ideal to have Ashley Laracey perform both (lead) female roles in these works this fall. However, I am convinced Sara Adams will be splendid this upcoming week in "The Unanswered Question".

Additionally, in light of the concerns that are often expressed, it is interesting to note how the body of a woman is lifted and maneuvered by a group of men in "The Unanswered Question".

Enchanted to have witnessed how appropriately dazzling Balanchine's Jewels is once again in the theater, and stand in agreement with all the positive sentiments expressed above about the dancers in each of the three casts of Rubies and Diamonds this season.

The thrilling performances by Ashley Laracey and Mira Nadon in Emeralds —in their separate roles and different casts, on successive evenings— served to intensify my deep-seated sensitivity to the exceptional beauty of this work. My expectations of Laracey in the Mimi Paul part were sky-high to begin with, and she fulfilled them summarily. On the other hand, while anticipating that she would shine in the Violette Verdy role, Nadon gave two astonishingly beautiful performances that exceeded even my expectations. Although they are at different stages of their careers, the balletic acumen of both these women appears similarly ingrained and inscrutable —they are undoubtedly masterful at communicating to the mind and heart, through their carriage and movement, all the poetry, elegance and mystery that make Emeralds and the art form in general so entrancing.

Indiana Woodward, Emilie Gerrity, Sara Adams and Brittany Pollack are a marvelous quartet of women. The extraordinary beauty of the ballet's final tableau on Saturday afternoon reinforces my regret at having caught the first cast only once. Then again, the company performs Emeralds every so often. Consequently, I appreciate viewing Robert Schumann's "Davidsbündlertänze" in its solitary season run years ago with Russell Janzen.

[I was deeply unhappy that I would miss Ashley Laracey's performances in "The Unanswered Question". On the other hand, I am eager to see her in Orpheus (my presumption is that she will be cast in that ballet). All this is obviously of secondary importance to her well-being.] 

Considering the precariousness of a career in ballet, it is noteworthy for a dancer to perform over time such a diverse series of roles as Lesley Rausch apparently did, based on the montage of past video clips inserted towards the end of the streamed farewell performance honoring her (as well as the comments by the members above). Similarly notable is for anyone in the audience to witness a dancer whose work they value achieve such a feat.

During New York City Ballet's recent run of Afternoon of a Faun, the epic nature of a particular moment in this work became evident to me. That is the instant the two dancers first notice each other in the "mirror." Imagine locking eyes with either dancer at that extraordinary moment. A dancer's eyes, in that split second, become metaphorically a giant canvas of the mind and soul, on which a person visualizes imprinted with a mark commensurate with its relative value and importance every work of art they have experienced.

How can an individual truly measure, one muses, the impact of all these works of art on the way we perceive ourselves and the world? For instance, how has its portrayal in countless novels, plays, poems, short stories, paintings, movies (or films), and ballets affected our understanding of the subject of "love"? How ironic and suggestive is it, moreover, that the two dancers view each other for the first time through the "mirror" of our eyes?

Obviously, it was gratifying and quite touching on such an occasion to observe that this was the precise moment from Afternoon of a Faun selected for inclusion among the video clips from Lesley Rausch's evidently lengthy and successful dancing career.

A ten-minute work for six dancers performed on demi-pointe, the intriguingly titled A Squiggle Is a Dot That Went for a Dance was the ninth and last piece of the Vail Dance Festival NOW: PREMIERES 2023 edition. Choreographed by Justin Peck, and featuring music by Caroline Shaw, it enraptured me on first viewing. Isabella Boylston, Patricia Delgado, Robbie Fairchild, Lauren Lovette, Caili Quan and James Whiteside were the dancers. All were dressed in practice clothes, with Quan looking particularly lovely in a short black unitard. In slightly loose-fitting white shorts and a pink tank top, Lovette also looked fantastic, appearing in clothing one might observe a woman wearing on a warm summer day in the street. Everyone danced skillfully, and the work's disarming beauty attenuated any reservations one had beforehand regarding those chosen to perform the ballet. Several lighting changes during its duration enhanced its effectiveness by bathing at times the enchanting sylvan background of this singular venue, as well as its flooring, in dazzling, seductive colors which included green, purplish blue and red. Behind the dancers, Shaw played the violin and vocalized. Her newly commissioned evocative composition enriched Peck's attractive choreography. A Squiggle Is a Dot That Went for a Dance provides a perfect example, in fact, of the power of music and the massive impact it can have on a dance work. Although there are different opinions about how to film dance, the taping was from my perspective magnificent.

One especially gorgeous moment captured marvelously by the camera occurred early in a section of the work featuring Boylston partnered by Whiteside. From the wing, the viewer perceived the two dancers standing a bit apart —one behind the other from the vantage point of the live audience— in arabesque position. Moving forward, Whiteside proceeded to lift his partner marginally as she maintained the same position. During this time, and as the lift materialized, Boylston slowly raised her originally downcast eyes in an ethereal, consummate manner towards the "firmament." The celestial serenity marking her expression —lips slightly parted at the end— touched the soul.

Both Quan and (especially) Delgado, to be sure, had their prominent moments too, including solos also noticeably danced with downcast eyes. Nevertheless, from early in the ballet when all the dancers stood with arms raised high in fifth position —the others forming a circle around Boylston— the work's most sublime instants during its first half-dozen minutes unquestionably belonged to Lauren Lovette. (Some unfolded while partnered gracefully by Fairchild.) Although credit is due to everyone involved in the production of A Squiggle Is a Dot That Went for a Dance, Lovette for her part seized the opportunity it provided to recapture the ballet lover's imagination, securely turning her performance  —deftly documented on video— into one of the high points of her dancing career. 

13 hours ago, cobweb said:

Not so, Royal Blue! I remember vividly your comments about my reaction to the sublime marching section of Union Jack. You said, roughly quoting, "I do not share your admiration for Union Jack, cobweb, but I admire your enthusiasm." I appreciate your appreciation!

If I had gone into the theater Tuesday evening expecting to see something even better than a certain other ballet, I would have left disappointed. Never mind that it puts some other people to sleep, The Goldberg Variations will always be special to me.

I simply wanted to moderate any unduly high expectations about Brandenburg formed by you or any other person reading my previous comment.

Your opinion about Union Jack is indeed more favorable than mine. However, my feelings about that work are by no means negative. My exact words to you were: "Even though I do not feel as keenly about Union Jack as you do, cobweb, I admire your enthusiasm."
 

On 9/30/2019 at 10:39 AM, cobweb said:

macnellie, this was my experience exactly the first time I saw Union Jack. At the time I was new to NYCB and had no idea about the rep, and was just buying tickets at random, not knowing what to expect. I was dumbfounded as the tattoo unfolded. It's an experience I'll never forget. And thanks for using the word "gravity" to describe it. I was going with "fierce," but "gravity" feels more right. The solemnity of the final procession, as they exit the stage and the spell comes to an end, leaves me forlorn. They march off into eternity, they will march on forever, out of my sight and grasp, while I am left here in the flawed, distracting real world. 

 

On 10/4/2019 at 11:57 PM, cobweb said:

Union Jack can be appreciated as a spectacle, and I do appreciate it that way. But for me it also exists on a spiritual plane. They are otherworldly creatures, stopped in their solemn march to do some sweet Scottish dancing. They never acknowledge the audience, they only acknowledge each other - sweetly, gently. Then the relentless drumbeat starts up and they resume their journey, beyond our grasp. They have a perfection that they take with them, leaving us behind in a flawed and mortal world. The formality and nobility of their posture is contrasted with the down-low real-world bickering couple of the Costermonger pdd; and the tension and constraint of their march contrasts beautifully with the good humor and warm generous spirits of Royal Navy. As I've often said: Thanks Mr. B. 

Interesting thoughts to keep in mind next time they offer Union Jack!

On 10/5/2019 at 11:03 AM, Royal Blue said:

Even though I do not feel as keenly about Union Jack as you do, cobweb, I admire your enthusiasm.

For those who love the art form and have seen many performances, it is interesting to reflect about which ballets and which moments in a particular ballet mean to us the most.

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