Kathleen O'Connell

Just curious - why do you think they'd prefer to be on TV? Bigger audience? Superior medium? More dollars? I don't know how many people listen to the actual radio broadcast of TAL, but more than 500,000 people download the podcast each week. The top cable TV show last night (4/26/12) was "South Park" with a total live + SD (same day DVR) audience of 2.3 million. The total audience for an episode of the radio version TAL can't be too far behind that. (The top broadcast TV show last night was "American Idol" watched by a grand total of 16.8 million live and SD.)

Broadcast TV faces challenges, to be sure, but it's not breathing its last just yet although certainly that could happen. "This American Life" lasted only a couple of seasons on Showtime but I expect they'd still prefer to be there if they could. Just to clarify: by "broadcast TV" I mean what gets beamed out over the airways, not what's ported in by cable or satellite. There's a reason "This American Life" didn't last on Showtime: TV is absolutely the wrong medium for that show. Edited to add: at some point, and probably not in the too-distant future, there's going to be a battle royal between the cable companies and the internet-based content providers who have begun to disrupt their business model.

Look what I found on the Jacobs Pillow Dance Interactive site ( California for the heads-up!) -- a (way too) brief clip of one of my favorite Apollos, Nikolaj Hübbe, performing the pas de deux with Darci Kistler in 2002.

California -- Many thanks for the link and the heads-up re the Jacobs Pillow Dance Interactive site! I took a quick tour, and it looks to be quite nicely done. Only excerpts, alas, but still a feast. OT: I was pleased to see that the NPR Music website got some $$$; now if only they'd notice that, ummm, not all smart phones are iPhones and use some of the money to expand the app portfolio accordingly. (I pester WNYC on this point with a regularity that the listener support folks must find tedious.)

Note that I didn't say that the performing arts shouldn't be made available for free over broadcast TV, nor that programs like "Great Performers" and "Live from Lincoln Center" shouldn't get NEA / NEH funding. However, broadcast TV is going the way of the telephone land line. If I were in charge of a large performing arts organization and wanted to get a filmed version of a performance in front of the viewing public, I'd be paying more attention to Louis C. K. than pledge week. (For a less commercial model, I might look to what the humble little podcast has done for "Radiolab," "This American Life," and "On the Media.") And, if I were on the board of NEA and was looking to cut a check to PBS, it wouldn't be for yet another one-time broadcast that would languish in the vaults for a generation after its brief run was over. I'd help pay for them to 1) lawyer up and finally secure the rights to the treasure trove of past performances currently mouldering in said vaults; 2) hire the technical staff they need to get that stuff promptly and properly digitized and on to spinning disks; and 3) make it accessible forever and always with two clicks of a mouse or two swipes on a touchscreen. Maybe for free, maybe for $1.99; maybe for free if you stream it and $1.99 if you want to download it onto your very own spinning disk. Whatever. But free to schools and libraries for sure. And If I were on the board of the NEH I'd pay scholars and educators to produce some first-rate materials to help teachers make those performances accessible to new audiences whenever it worked in the curriculum or whenever they were moved to do so. And note that that "new audience" could well be seniors taking a course in the arts at the local community college.

I probably wouldn't have said this as recently as six months ago, but it's time for the performing arts to cut the PBS cord. In the age of broadband and live HD theater feeds they don't -- or at least very soon won't -- need traditional broadcast media any more than The Los Angeles Review of Books needs a printing press.

Sigh. Watching the rehearsal footage Helene posted earlier made me wish I could hop on a plane to catch Seth Orza's Apollo. (And can I just say that Peter Boal -- dressed in street clothes and holding only an imaginary instrument -- still looks gorgeous lifting his lyre heavenwards.) I'm especially pleased that Sarah Ricard's career has taken off at PNB. She was always one of my big favorites in the NYCB corps, and I was sad to see them both leave NY. Selfishly sad -- it's hard to begrudge a move that's brought them the opportunities they deserve.

But Fitzgerald is so discreet and meticulous and uses Novalis' journals and notes to structure the novel. And Novalis sort of gives the writer permission in a fragment that Fitzgerald quotes at the beginning of The Blue Flower: "Novels arise out of the shortcomings of history." (And elsewhere Novalis writes something like: where philososphy ends poetry must begin.) The Romantic Generation did have something of an enthusiasm for turning the lives of historical personages into art, although I don't think one reads Schiller's "Maria Stuart" or "Don Carlos" to deepen one's understanding of Elizabethan England or Philip II's Spain. (And if you're like me, you toss them aside and cheerfully listen to Donizetti's "Maria Stuarda" and Verdi's "Don Carlos" instead. ) You might read them for a better understanding of the particular concerns of Schiller and his contemporaries, however, and I think that's at the heart of my concern. We can see now how Schiller's Mary Stuart is the projection of those concerns rather than a "true" depiction of the historical queen (who might in fact be rather shocked by the philosophical ideas held by Schiller and his contemporaries). But perhaps we can't see the ways in which a contemporary novelized biography is more the reflection of our own early 21st century notions than an accurate depiction of another person's consciousness. Think of all the novels, plays, and biographies that were written when we were in the grip of a now much discredited Freudianism. That being said, Fitzgerald's lovely book is indeed a model of tact, and it's charming that someone even thought to write a book about Novalis targeted towards an English-speaking audience!

OK, I did a little thinking about this while I was traipsing around the city tonight. I didn't mean to imply that what I referred to as "inside" novelizations were entirely illegitimate. I think they're risky because they're speculative recreations of the subjective experience of a real person and they can be very powerful: once you've put the book down, it can be nearly impossible to dislodge the fictional version of that person from your mind forever after. But any number of celebrated authors have tried their hand at them: Susan Sontag ("The Volcano Lover"), Don Dellilo ("Libra"), William T. Vollman ("Europe Central"), Beryl Bainbridge ("The Birthday Boys"), Hilary Mantel ("A Place of Greater Safety" and "Wolf Hall"), Penelope Fitzgerald ("The Blue Flower") -- I've read and enjoyed them all, but they've made me uneasy all the same. (And in at least two cases the books take liberties with the documented facts.) "Outside" novelizations are risky too, of course: there's always the possibility that they paint a distorted picture of real persons and events. But by shifting the point of view to a third party the novel at least replicates something that we all do consciously or unconsciously, which is to try to understand something about another person's life based on what we see them do and say.

Postlewaite screamed talent in the SAB workshop performances I saw him in, despite not being featured in one of the principal roles. (He was a side boy in "Divertimento No. 15. I still remember. He was that good. I really regret not having been able to watch that particular talent bloom.) It's hard to imagine that he'd be carrying baskets of grapes for long, even at ABT, but who knows. Why was he not hired by NYCB ? Was it his choice to go to PNB? I think this article from The Seattle P-I will answer your question.

Oh, some real potboilers! Robert Harris' wonderful Cicero novels (told from the point of view of his slave and secretary, Tiro) and Philip Kerr's "Dark Matter," in which Sir Issac Newton, as head of the Royal Mint, solves a murder mystery. I forget -- who narrates Vidal's "Lincoln"? I'll have to put on my thinking cap for more.

Postlewaite screamed talent in the SAB workshop performances I saw him in, despite not being featured in one of the principal roles. (He was a side boy in "Divertimento No. 15. I still remember. He was that good. I really regret not having been able to watch that particular talent bloom.) It's hard to imagine that he'd be carrying baskets of grapes for long, even at ABT, but who knows.

I love "Burr" too! But isn't it told from the point of view of the fictional Charlie Schuyler? Charlie is a first person narrator, so we are indeed privy to his thoughts, but we only see Aaron Burr himself from the outside. Charlie's a lot of fun, but Burr is the real subject.

For me the issue is whether LeClerq's biography -- or any real person's biography -- is novelized from the "inside" or from the "outside." In the former, the story is told in either first or close third person from the point of view of the principal subject -- in this case LeClerq -- so that the author is to a greater or lesser degree imagining and depicting that subject's interior life. In the latter, the story is told from the point of view of someone other than the principal subject -- a person (usually fictional, or at least a "non-enitity") who observes the subject from the outside and narrates what he or she perceives to have taken place. I think "inside" novelizations are pretty dicey, even if the subject is long-dead (as in the case of Colm Toibin's "The Master") but don't have too much trouble with the "outside" ones if they're done well.

This should be interesting -- earrings that are designed to be visible from a stage like the State Theater might be a little out of proportion for street wear. Well, that depends on the street, doesn't it ... And it could be that they'll be scaled back for everyday use, much as fashion designers adjust their runway designs before they're manufactured and shipped out to department stores.

Per an interview with Marc Happel in the latest issue of "New York City Ballet News" the women's tutus will remain white and the men's tunics will remain black, to honor Karinska's originals. As to what's wrong with those originals: "The old costumes had reached a point where they had to be dealt with in some way, and Peter [Martins, NYCB Ballet Master in Chief] decoded that the next time the Company danced the ballet it would be with new costumes." Happel adds that "Swarovski was interested in working with the Company and we decided this was the perfect project for that partnership." The tutus will have white satin bodices edged in gray and their net skirts will be topped by a plate of silver lace organza embellished with Swarovski crystals in gray, black, blue, and diamond tones. Happel names Dior's "Junon" dress as one of his original inspirations: "My hope was to create something that looks beautiful and classic with a modern edge." (Perhaps by coincidence, perhaps not, Dior is one of the sponsors of NYCB's Spring Gala, "À La Française," where the new costumes will make their debut.) Happel worked with jewellery maker Robert Sorrell on the women's crowns and former NYCB corps member Jamie Wolf -- herself now a jewellery designer -- on the earrings. (The earrings will be available for purchase and a portion of the proceeds will go to NYCB.) There's a picture of Sara Mearns modelling one of the tutus on the issue's cover as well as reproduction of one of the costume sketches and a shot of a tutu-in-process inside, but they're "partial views" at best and it's hard to get a sense of what they'll really look like on stage. Re: the men's tunics: Happel is ditching the original stretch fabric, and is replacing it with black velvet. The tunics -- which he's labelled "traditional" -- will have a front panel of pleated satin and a "strong horizontal neckline detailed with a row of Swaroski elements, which emphasizes the men's broad shoulders." The front panel will also be sprinkled with crystals to mirror the tutus. Note: NYCB has apparently also partnered with OPI on a line of nail polish., featuring colors named (I kid you not) "You Callin' Me a Lyre," "Barre My Soul" and "My Pointe Exactly."

That's so hard to tell, though: "The Sleeping Beauty" rushes by at lightning speed, and the only time I can focus is during the projections, when there's no dancing. Martins has no use for repose, and that's part of the problem. His Dance! Dance! Dance! version of "Swan Lake" is even more relentless. It's like someone cornering you at a party and talking your ear off; in their eagerness to tell you everything they lose the thread and end up telling you nothing.

Cristian -- what do you mean by "Petipa"? I'm talking about putting a black tutu and convincing the audience about Odile's "femme fatale" role...I'm talking about DQ PDD, I'm talking about the grandeur of the Shades, Swans and Willis entrance and the regality of the Grand Pas from Raymonda and Paquita, and yes, including all the "after" renditions. I'm talking about feeling confortable playing princes and princesses, queens and kings, or feeling grand and shameless as THE diva of the ballet, in the case of the ballerina. I'm talking more of the XIX century aesthetic than a choreographer. Well, NYCB isn't where one goes for a straight shot of 19th century aesthetic. Many Balanchine ballets evoke that aesthetic and comment on it, of course, although Shades and Willils specifically -- i.e., white acts full of ethereal, other-worldly women -- are notably absent. (Balanchine's one-act version of "Swan Lake" being the exception that proves the rule, maybe. And as one poster here pointed out a while back, that fierce brigade of white-clad corps women in "Symphony in Three Movements" does put one in mind of "space age willis.") I think I'd characterize its repertory as one that requires its ballerinas to project authority rather than portray queens.

Cristian -- what do you mean by "Petipa"? Do you mean the ballets that he originally choreographed, however much revised -- e.g., Peter Martins' versions of "Sleeping Beauty" and "Swan Lake"? Or do you mean whatever bits of his original choreography that still survive in those ballets? Or do you mean a kind of choreographic style? One might say that NYCB does wonderful riffs on Petipa -- "Theme and Variations," e.g., or "Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2" -- but that its current attempts at putting on versions of actual Petipa ballets are a mixed bag, mostly because Martins couldn't tell a story in dance to save his life. Many of the iconic bits of Petipa (or what we deem to be iconic Petipa) survive in his versions, but little in the way of narrative and theatrical energy. What's the point of putting on "Swan Lake" if you aren't going to break people's hearts with the story? But even if they never did another "Sleeping Beauty" they'd still be a ballet company, and I'd say the same thing about MCB, too.

The point I was hoping to make was that neither dancing for Peter Martins nor exposure to contemporary dance leads inexorably to debased Balanchine, which I took to be the original poster's main concern. The amount of "not ballet" in a ballet company's repertory is something the company, its AD, its audience, and its donors have to negotiate among themselves, and that process can take years.

Well, Peter Boal spent his entire NYCB career dancing for Peter Martins and I think the general consensus is that he turned out OK. What's more, he left NYCB for a time to dance elsewhere and throughout his career took on roles created by choreographers who work well outside of the classical ballet idiom -- Molissa Fenley and Ulysses Dove, e.g. I'm guessing that Boal's exposure to contemporary rep -- both as dancer and AD -- is considerably more extensive that Lopez's.

Well, I'm mourning them, though I'm not convinced they're dead yet: here's what I posted in the MCB thread:

From Daniel Watkins' article in the NYT: An MCB / Morphoses partnership -- I wonder how that would work? Morphoses still a laboratory for new dance run on a "curatorial" model, but now with a more-or-less stable roster of dancers recruited from MCB during the off season, with performances scheduled for venues outside of Florida? A run at Aspen, a week at the Joyce, etc ... Deep in my heart-of-hearts I was hoping that Morphoses would somehow turn into the Lyon Opera Ballet. The "Bacchae" Luca Veggetti did for them was a misfire, but I'm grateful that it introduced me to some terrific dancers I didn't know (especially Frances Chiaverini). And of course Lopez is open to including Wheeldon's work in MCB's repertory -- doesn't every AD in possession of a budget for comissions find him or herself in want of a Wheeldon, a Ratmanksy, and an Elo?

Getting way OT here -- one of the interesting things I learned reading "Chance and Circumstance," Carolyn Brown's memoir of her years with Merce Cunningham, was the fact that she supered for the Royal Ballet when it came to NY on tour. She did stints at the Metropolitan Opera and Radio City Music Hall too, and apparently came pretty close to dancing a supporting role in Tudor's Pillar of Fire for ABT. In the early days, at least, dancing for Merce didn't put a lot of food on the table.

And in fairness, they also have to take into account the kind of company that they actually are. ABT tours regularly, and its productions have to accommodate that fact. For instance, there are about a bazillion kids in the Garland Dance from NYCB's "Beauty" but only two in ABT's, where they look kind of lonely, frankly. I assume that that difference is at least partly driven by the reality of taking a show on the road: you can find and rehearse two stage-worthy local students wherever you go, but a dozen or more might be a tall order. NYCB, however, has a school full of kids it both wants and needs to get on stage. (Yes, ABT has a school now too -- and it will be interesting to see how that shapes future productions.) Whether one likes it or not, ABT's story ballets are also vehicles to get international stars in front of an American public. They have to be constructed in a way that allows guest principals to bungee in for a performance or two with maximum efficiency. Could it put on the kind of "Let's spend a year going back to the original notation!" Giselle that PNB recently did? Well, symphonies and opera companies also have to act as these kinds of "efficient" venues for stars, but the ensembles/productions in which they appear are usually (yes, with some glaring excpetions in opera) excellent. They've managed to make it work. And wouldn't it be great if ABT did take a year or two to do something so thoughtful and interesting? (Even Cirque du Soleil does that.) It's just sad to see, again and again, both contemporary and classical productions in big, mainstream ballet companies that are so often artistically impoverished: champagne budgets with beer tastes. I agree -- there's absolutely NO reason why a bungee-ready production can't be good. It might be harder for that kind of production to serve as an exemplar of a particular style, however, since one of its goals has to be to make sure that it looks good on everyone who is likely to dance in it. A popular gripe among a certain class of opera fanatic is that there's no such thing as a "national" or "house" style anymore since everyone sings everywhere and major stars don't make a home with any one company any more like they did in the good old days. (With the possible exception of some of the small European regional theaters, I don't think there are many -- if any -- opera houses that work the way many major ballet companies do -- i.e., with a roster of artists who build their entire careers there and who are cast in the majority of the leading roles. They're pick up companies, in essence.) As for doing something thoughtful and interesting, that's why they hired Ratmansky, no? Let's hope good things lie ahead.