Kathleen O'Connell

Farrell Fan: I concur with your anecdotal impression! At a recent NYCO Rigoletto I was stunned by the number of 20 something couples I saw wandering around the promenade during intermission holding hands and drinking champagne. (I never really thought of Rigoletto as a date opera, but you never know ...) I wouldn't have been so surprised if had been one of NYCO's forays into the spikier by-ways of the repetoire or a new commission that had generated some buzz in the media -- but Rigoletto is about as mainstream as it gets (and there were no real stars in the cast that might have been the draw). I assume it's something with NYCO; at the Metropolitan Opera across the plaza I always seem to be the youngest person in my row by decades (and I am not, as Jane Austen would say, in my first youth ...). However, at NYCB I have been exactly the same age as everyone on line at the ladies' room for about 25 years now ...

I'd hoped to post about performances more often this season, but alas, personal and professional demands have kept me tied to my various keyboards hard at work on other things. So I'm taking advantage of a day off to report on Saturday evening's (2/16/02) NYCB performance. (It takes me a long time to write these things because I'm constantly struggling with vocabulary -- I'm always amazed by how well others put into words something as non-verbal as dance!) To be honest, it wasn't a particularly special evening when compared with others I've experienced this season, but it wasn't a disaster either. Let's just say it was one of those "average" NYCB evenings: it had one clunker (Scotch Symphony), one solid performance (Episodes), and one significant debut (Seth Orza in Fancy Free). First, the debut: Orza danced the second solo, and I thought he did a fine job -- I'd certainly welcome the opportunity to see him dance it again. The second solo is the most "lyrical" of the three and I think the most difficult to win the audience with: it doesn't offer the pyrotechnic opportunities of the first nor does it have the comic, wisecracking potential of the third. It does require a sure musicality, however, and the ability to play a light but nonetheless firmly controlled center off against syncopated, off balance steps. I've seen some dancers overplay the syncopation and control only to end up with a sort of stop / start feel to their phrasing; what I liked about Orza's performance of this solo was a certain overall silkiness and flow of movement that he brought to the steps -- it created a lovely effect. (I hope it was intentional, or at least reflective of the way he normally dances -- and I hope no one coaches him into "sharpening up" his approach to this solo!) There's one tricky bit he had a little trouble with (what I mentally refer to as the "tap step") but I have every confidence that he'll get it ironed out sooner rather than later; he'll master that gum wrapper toss at some point, too ... He also managed to give his sailor a distinct persona -- so, overall, I'd count it as a successful debut, and I've officially put Orza in the "one to watch" category. The rest of the cast: Ringer, McBrearty, Walter, Gold, Woetzel, and Capps (bartender). Ringer and Woetzel danced the pas de deux. Gold danced the first solo and Woetzel the third. Everyone performed well and looked good -- and Woetzel did not look bored. (He didn't look bored in Faun a couple of week ago, either -- I thought he gave a moving performance, in fact. Nor have a seen him look bored in Prodigal Son. Maybe the requirements of creating a defined character engages him more thoroughly in the general proceedings than emulating a prince in the plotless ballets does.) Question: does the sailor who dances the third solo also always dance the pas de deux? I seem to recall second solo sailors also dancing the pas de deux, but I could be mistaken. Episodes. Cast (in order of appearance): Tracey, Neal, Alexopoulos, Fayette, Somogyi, Evans, Kowroski, Askegard. Confession: I adore Episodes (I'm a sucker for black bathing suit Balanchine) and would probably applaud like a trained seal at a lousy performance out of sheer gratitude that someone was actually performing Anton Webern's music live. Saturday's performance was solid, if occasionally earthbound. My current favorite section is the first (Symphony, Opus 21) -- I get a real chill from the eerie and anxious world it creates. Tracey and Neal were fine (I think this has always been a good role for Tracey), but I'd like to compliment the side couples, too (Beskow, Hanna, Bowers, Capps, Walter, and Seth). Alexopoulos and Fayette were wonderfully deadpan in their section (Five Pieces, Opus 10). I found Fayette's abandonment of Alexopoulos in mid pose in the second (?) of the five pieces is especially funny since he strikes me as the NYCB dancer least likely to abandon his partner. (Some evenings he seem like the only male dancer on the roster who can extend his hand to his ballerina as if her were actually enamored of her and not standing there out of mere duty.) Any opportunity to see Somogyi and Evans is welcome, and their performance of the third section (Concerto, Opus 24) did not disappoint -- they were as sharp, focussed, musical, and three-dimensional as one would expect. But I'd like to see both of them cast in a wider variety of roles; I'm especially concerned that Somogyi will get typecast as the strong, "I don't really NEED a partner," Warrior Princess of the company, and she has much more potential than that. Except for Puck, does Evans ever dance anything in a costume that is not a T-shirt and black tights? (Von Rothbart doesn't count.) Kowroski seemed a bit muted and effaced in the Ricercata -- more than I recall her being in the past. I've started to actively dislike her curlicue, wrist crooked way with her hands; as a mannerism I find it the ballet equivalent of dotting one's i's with little hearts or daisies. Scotch Symphony. Cast: Borree, Askegard (subbing for Martins), Tayor, Fowler, Hanna. I'd hoped that Borree was finally working through whatever has been undermining her effectiveness for the past few years. Although her perfomance of the Girl in Pink in the Dances at a Gathering that I saw earlier this year didn't strike me as anything to write home about, she seemed more relaxed and assured than she has been in a good while and was therefore more enjoyable to watch. Saturday's performance started out well enough; for a few minutes Borree was airy and musical and her phrases had a definite shape to them. And then things fell apart -- it was as if something really rattled her and she couldn't recover her poise (she was visibly trembling during the "arabesque and whisper" sequence). To my eyes, Borree does not have an ideal line to begin with (her feet strike me as unstretched, her back inflexible, her shoulders hunched, her turnout underdefined, and she has a tendency to thrust rather than unfold her limbs into movement); under pressure any compensation by way of clarity of phrasing and execution vanishes and she resorts to overemphatic gestures to generate a performance. On Saturday, she seemed to be having difficulty just executing the steps, much less actually creating anything with them. And she looked absolutely miserable. I hate to be harsh (especially about a dancer I used to enjoy and would like to believe still has promise), but I am genuinely puzzled as to why we see so much of her; it's not as if NYCB were in the middle of one of its periodic ballerina droughts. The dancing has been particularly strong this season and I think you could just about cast Scotch Symphony from the corps. Simply throwing Borree out there night after night in the hope that things will right themselves doesn't seem to be doing anyone any good. By the way, Taylor was as fierce -- and as exciting -- as ever.

There are so many trouser roles in opera that a good mezzo could probably build a fine career out of singing them exclusively. But I can only think of one offhand in which the woman impersonates a man as part of the plot: Rosmira in Handel's Partenope. Roles like Cherubino and Oscar (Verdi's Ballo in Maschera) were written for women because they can generally more successfully impersonate adolescent males (on the opera stage at least) than older (i.e., non-adolescent) men can. Maybe Bellini's Romeo falls in this category. Opera singers' voices generally don't develop full power and potency -- and thus the ability to really put over a difficult role vocally and artistically -- until they are a decade or more out of adolescence -- the point where a dancer may be halfway through his or her career. Stars like Renée Fleming and Susan Graham (a renowned Octavian, Cherubino and Idamante) -- now deemed to be at the peak of their careers -- are in their forties. Some of the male roles now sung by women were orginally written for castrati; there is a genre of opera popular during the Baroque and Classical periods called opera seria that focussed on the doings of heroes from history or mythology (e.g., Handel's Giulio Cesare or Mozart's Idomeneo). In the Italian flavor of this genre at least, it was thought that high voices -- i.e., soprano or alto -- were best suited to sing noble and heroic roles, and so the male roles were written for castrati or women, though not for male falsettists. (For those of you unfamiliar with the term, a castrato is a male singer castrated before puberty to retain his high voice. The good ones were the rock stars of their day. The practice died out around the time of Mozart, thank goodness.) Rossini and Donizetti wrote some works in the opera seria mold, and the lead male roles were written for women (e.g, the title role Rossini's Tancredi or Orsini in Donizetti's Lucrezia Borgia). I think this is a good example of artistic convention and an asthetic preference winning out over mere verisimilitude.

It's hard enough for the men in "I'm Old Fashioned" to hold the stage after the Fred Astaire clip, and their costumes, alas, do nothing to help. Whenever City Ballet attempts to put its men into a facsimile of modern formal attire, they end up looking like waiters. This is especially true for the finale of "I'm Old Fashioned," when the men come out in short black jackets that look for all the world like they were lifted from the waitstaff at the Waldorf. Philip Neal wore maroon trousers; I think Marcovici and Ritter did as well (or maybe they were more in the plum family). Kowroski wore a red dress. Van Kipnis, Rutherford, and the demi-soloists (Hanson and McBrearty) were in different shades of blue. The rest of the women were in sepia gowns (including Hanson and McBrearty after a costume change); I think the rest of the men wore brown trousers. (So they could look like doormen instead of waiters?) Then everyone came out in black. In my opinion, this ballet has more costume changes than it deserves. It's not one of my favorites, but last night it did at least present a few Natanya, Bouder, and Fowler viewing opportunities. I've often wondered what "I'm Old Fahioned" would be like if it were performed stripped of the Astaire clip (and yes, with better costumes)-- could it successfully stand on it's own?

Maybe a little off topic, but in case any of you in the NY City area are interested in seeing Indian dance live, you can do so courtesy of The World Music Institute on Sat April 20 8pm / Sun April 21 7pm at Symphony Space (B'way & 95th St). Details are available at the WMI website (www.heartheworld.org) Here's the blurb from their performance calendar: "Odissi Dance of India Nrityagram Ensemble $30, $25 One of India’s most treasured dance troupes, Nrityagram has enchanted audiences and critics with its performances of the sensuous and lyrical Odissi classical dance of northeast India. Its New York debut was hailed in The New York Times as "one of the most luminous dance events of the year" and its celebrated soloist Surupa Sen was described as "truly a star in the making." Live musical accompaniment." I've attended a couple of South Asian dance performances sponsored by WMI and I can attest that they were indeed thoroughly enchanting! It's very interesting to note the similarities and differences between the various South Asian dance styles and ballet. I was told that the port de bras charactersitic of ballet got to France via the earlier forms Spanish flamenco dancing, which, through its gypsy heritage, has South Asia roots. I don't know if this is true or not, but it's certainly delightful to imagine that it might be so! [ January 08, 2002: Message edited by: Kathleen O'Connell ] [ January 08, 2002: Message edited by: Kathleen O'Connell ]

Manhattnik wrote: Yes, indeed! For an example of this special quality, look at the picture accompanying yesterday's (1/7/01) New York Times review of "Quartet for Strings." Somogyi is the ballerina in the middle. To me she seems to uncoil a skein of lovely energy even in a moment in repose, where other dancers might simply look static. I think it's this quality that makes Somogyi's dancing seem so "three-dimensional" to me.

I think it's important to try to be alert to a work of art's implicit assumptions because art is a very powerful means of communication; the images that it leaves with us and the emotions that they provoke become part of our mental "furniture" and have the capacity to influence the way we perceive the world or think about things, perhaps without our even being consciously aware of it. This doesn't mean that one needs to stop seeing and enjoying Giselle; but I do think one needs to be alert to the work's social and cultural assumptions and its (overt or implied) worldview and I think one is justified in making value judgements about them. Some people may find that worldview more troubling or irritating than others do, and that's fine with me. (In fact, I find their expressions of irritation or outrage a useful trigger for me to examine some of my own assumptions. "HMMM," I think, "maybe I should be more perturbed about this myself." One does get used to how the furniture looks when one lives with it day in and day out, even if it's pretty ugly ...) I would find it extremely difficult to sit through a ballet (or a play or an opera or a novel) that had as one of its central premises and plot drivers the notion that, say, people with brown skin were inferior to people with pink skin and that their subjugation was therefore not only wholly justified but a thing to celebrate. No amount of trying to view the work through the eyes of another age or trying understand its context or trying to appreciate its purely formal beauties would make me more comfortable with the work or with the fact that some people enjoyed seeing it again and again or any less angry that it was still in the active repertory. I'm not sure I'm comfortable denying those who find Giselle's images of women offensive a similar response.

I'll never forget this moment from an NYCB perfomance years ago: One of the women's shoes came off during one of the "crowd scenes" in the first waltz of Balanchine's Vienna Waltzes (this is the one with the women in long, full, pink ballgowns and heeled slippers and the men in Hussar's uniforms). The shoe got very visibly and perilously kicked from one end of the stage to the other for what seemed like hours as the dancers swirled over it and around it. Judging from the gasps, I think everybody in State Theater was fixated on that shoe and the apparently imminent disaster of someone tripping over it, falling down, and starting a New Jersey Turnpike style chain reaction pile-up. Finally some young man from the corp bent down and swept the slipper up as he passed, held it triumphantly aloft for a moment or two, and then flung it off into the wings with a flourish to a round of applause. Disaster averted!

You know, I think Mark Morris could actually make Texas Bayadere work ... No, really, I'm being serious! Now there's a choreographer who could mutate the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders into the Kingdom of the Shades. I would make the trek to BAM and pay good money to see it! But would Morris -- such a moving Dido -- make a better Gamzatti or Nikiya? Let me hasten to add that I am a huge Morris fan and have thought on more than one occaision that he's George Balanchine's true heir, but that's for another thread.

Here are some random thoughts on both the winter and spring NYCB seasons, which were the most satisfying overall that I’ve experienced in a while. I’ve hardly ever written about dancing before, so apologies in advance for struggling to put into words things that I can hardly think of how to describe! I'm sure I'll sound either harsher or more slavishly uncritical (or both) than I intend to! Favorite Costumes -- Carole Divet's tutus for the women in Soirée. I adored them, especially in the context of the music and the overall tone of the ballet. (This was clearly NOT your polite evening social ...) I thought the girls looked both knowing and innocent at the same time -- kind of like Columbine on a bender. I despised the costumes for the men, however: they looked like croupiers, when they should have looked like boulevardiers. Least Favorite Costumes (which have driven me batty for 20+ years) -- a) The sorority girl cocktail dresses the women wear in Walpurgisnacht. I’ve been mystified since the first time I saw them. I always think that these women should look rather more supernatural and maybe even sinister -- this is, after all, the music of a witches' sabbath. I'm not suggesting that they have to wear pointy hats and hag hair, of course, but something a bit more atmospheric would be appropriate. B) the headgear in Dream, especially whatever it is that has been affixed to the butterflies' heads and Theseus' historically correct but extremely unflattering doge's cap. No one, in my experience, has ever looked anything but utterly goofy in it. C'mon, the guy's in charge of a major city-state and he's enamoured of a warrior queen with big bow, a pack of hounds, and multiple fouettées as her signature step -- give him something appropriately dignified to wear! I happen to think that George Balanchine was one of *the* great geniuses of the 20th century period – not just one of the great dance geniuses – but matters of theatrical décor were not his strong suit. Don’t get me started on Jewels. I probably fall in the “conservator” camp – except for the costumes. (I actually think the question of whether or not a ballet’s original costumes and sets are an integral part of the whole and therefore should be preserved more or less intact along with the choreography is an interesting one. Balanchine himself abandoned the much more elaborate original costumes for Apollo and Four Temperaments. Does his having done so mean we are now free to change them again to suit current tastes, or should we retain his final vision intact?) Most Instructive Experience -- The opportunity to see two VERY different dancers -- Wency Whelan and Monique Meunier -- take possession of roles I particularly associate with Suzanne Farrell (the dancer I miss the most). They were both magnificent in Walpurgisnacht -- but stikingly different -- and proof that one doesn't have to LOOK like Farrell to succeed in her roles. (This is something that I wish Maria Kowroski would realize. There have been a couple of times -- Davidsbundlertanze especially -- where I felt that she was trying to emulate Farrell rather than just dance like her own wonderful self.) It was like seeing two equally gorgeous manifestations of the same substance: Whelan was sparkling Waterford, Meunier sinuous Lalique. One of Meunier's turning combinations just took my breath away -- like a white hot lava flow, but with every shape her body made in space absolutely and clearly delineated -- even if just for a nanosecond -- before melting into the next one. Whelan is more crystalline, but what's interesting to me is the fact that even though she can repeat the same step three times in succession in *exactly* the same way each time (for instance, the travelling sequence of developpés in second in Walpurgisnacht), it *never* seems mechanical. It's as if she were transmitting to us glimpses of ideal forms from some platonic realm that we can't normally see. Most Moving Experience -- Following on from the point above, Whelan in Chaconne. I thought she got it just right. It's hard to think of a dancer who is less like Farrell physically or temperamentally than Whelan is, but I thought she did something that few other dancers have been able to do with this role: present Chaconne's unique "gestures" (e.g., the "snooty walks" passage in the central pas de deux) as something genuinely integrated into the fabric of the dance and the world it creates (or maybe represents) rather than as something just pasted on for momentary effect. As Whelan danced it, the persona of the woman at the heart of the ballet came through so clearly just from the steps -- no acting required. (And kudos to Philip Neal for matching her in this. I think Chaconne is really suited to him temperamentally -- it makes a virtue of his characteristic reserve and seeming hauteur.) Best New Look at Old Steps -- Jenny Somogyi in Concerto Barocco and as Hippolyta in Dream. I don't know how else to describe her dancing except as completely three dimensional and thoroughly musical (thus exploiting the fourth dimension -- time). This is a dancer who takes up SPACE -- not by dancing "big" so much as revealing an additional plane of movement. I really don't know how else to describe it. Biggest Unsolved Mystery -- Why we saw more of Yvonne Borree than [fill in name of favorite underused or MIA dancer here]. Try as I might to appreciate her, Borree is a dancer I just don't "get." Although she seemed somewhat more self-posessed than last season, I still find her dancing clenched and joyless. I was surprised to learn that she is thought to posess something of a bravura technique; to my eyes, her unstretched feet, her seemingly underpowered turnout, her slackness of attack, and her tendency to skitter through the steps rather than clearly and forthrightly articulate them leaves her with little but gesture to rely on for expressive effect. It's not that she's awful (she isn't) so much as that she's just sketched in. I thought she absolutely vanished on stage in Dances at a Gathering in the company of the radiant Ringer and Rutherford, the witty Kowroski, and the smoldering Alexopoulos. If one didn’t know the ballet, one might have been surprised to see Girl in Pink (Boree) rather than Girl in Yellow (Ringer) given the privilege of the final bow after the curtain. I hate to be harsh, but tickets aren't cheap and there are other dancers waiting for their chance at the spotlight. I do sense that there may be a fine dancer in there, but for some reason -- lack of commitment, lack of confidence, anxiety, whatever -- she can't seem to get out. Help! What am I missing? Well, I went on longer than I intended, and *still* haven’t complimented everyone who deserves it or noted even a fraction of what made this a thoroughly enjoyable season – but many thanks to all the dancers (and musicians, and stagehands, and wardrobe personnel) for so much joy!

Kiplin Houston was *already* dancing with NYCB back in 1977 when I started attending regularly! I think Kyra Nichols and Helene Alexopoulos are the only other active NYCB dancers who have been around as long -- Nichols joined in 1974 and Alexopoulos in 1977 or 78. I'll miss them all when they retire! Houston danced Lysander on Tuesday night when I attended Dream. I'm also going Friday and Saturday nights in some sort of compare / contrast frenzy, and will try to report back when the dust settles ... Judging from the cast lists, hardly anyone will repeat the same role twice. Here's the rest of Tuesday's cast: Titania: D. Kisler Oberon: P. Boal Puck: A. Evans Helena: K. Tracey Hermia: P. van Kipnis Lysander: K. Houston Demetrius: A. Higgins Hippolyta: J. Somogyi (sub for Meunier -- hope she's not injured again ...) Theseus: H. Seth (sub for R. Lyon) Cavalier: C. Askegard Bottom: J. Fayette Butterfly: J. Taylor Divertissement: M. Weese (sub for Whelan) and J. Soto Andrea Quinn conducted The house was PACKED, by the way, which surprised me for some reason. On aa related note: there is an interview with Albert Evans in this week's Time Out NY in which he discusses his fondess for the role of Puck, among other things. He's apparently choreographing something for the next Diamond Project.

I saw Tanner’s new ballet, “Soirée,” on Saturday evening, June 16. OK, I liked it for what it was – a high voltage showcase for the hot young talents of the moment. (If I get a chance, I will try to post at least a summary of my impressions.) But here’s what troubled me (she said, getting very cranky): where was the new ballet for the established and in many cases sadly underutilized talent on the NYCB roster? Is *no one* interested in making a ballet for Albert Evans or Monique Muenier? (Is anyone even interested in casting them anymore? Good Lord! I’d rush over to State Theater just to watch them walk across the stage in their practice clothes.) These are just two examples (glaring, in my opinion) at the principal level, but one could draw up a list at the soloist and corps levels, too. Pascale van Kipnis? Eight minutes of Andrew Veyette was ok, but really, at this point in their respective careers I’d rather have eight minutes of Alexander Ritter. Eva Natanya? Carrie Lee Riggins? (Although I think the latter two have gotten a few small things.) And I’d like to see someone make at least a little bit of a fuss over corps stalwarts such as Amanda Edge, Pauline Golbin, and Elizabeth Walker; on some very dismal NYCB evenings when absolutely nothing that any of the principal dancers was doing was worth watching, their care and commitment alone made the trek to State Theater worthwhile. I’m sure many variables go into casting new ballets – who’s healthy, who can be released from the rehearsal schedule, and of course, who is interesting and technically accomplished enough as a dancer – and lord knows a ballet company shouldn’t be run on a seniority system like the civil service -- but sometimes the omissions really are puzzling, at least to a non-professional like me. For a while now, NYCB seems to have been casting on the barbell system -- very, very junior dancers and very, very senior dancers (neither always up to the task) get used a lot, and a whole swath in the middle is left to lie fallow. (If any of the professionals out there can enlighten me, please do!) Oh, and re Janie Taylor: after “Soirée” my husband described her dancing as “flying glass” (which he meant as a compliment in the context of the ballet he’d just seen).

The term "ear" is also used for cereal grains generally -- per Websters, "ear" = "the fruiting spike of a cereal ... including both the seeds and protective structures." "fruiting spike" -- now there's a term to throw around at your next cocktail party! I think I have now reached the absolute limit of my store of knowlege on things botannical ...

I think this may be an example of the "two great coutries separated by a common language" phenomenon: although in the US the term "corn" is generally used to refer to the grain also known as "maize" or "Indian corn," elsewhere in the Engish-speaking world (with the possible exception of Australia) it's used to refer to ceareal crops generally, such as wheat or oats. Kathleen O'Connell