Drew

Curtis helped fund the restoration of the magnificent Dohany Street Synagogue in Budapest--not just a striking building but witness to an inordinate amount of Jewish history from central European Jewry's seemingly successful efforts at assimilation (Liszt played the organ there and sermons were delivered in Hungarian for the first time) to the temporary housing of 20,000 Jews during World War II many of whom died in the appalling conditions. Eichman actually set up an office inside the synagogue. There is now a Jewish museum attached to it and a holocaust memorial outside including a sculpture of a silver colored tree. Herzl was born across from the synagogue on a street that no longer exits--so it's sort of ground zero for twentieth-century Jewish history. Without Curtis (and others including Estee Lauder) raising and donating funds for the restoration, one does not know what would have happened to this building. Budapest has several other remarkable synagues that, to my knowledge, remain in not very good condition including one by Otto Wagner, more or less falling apart. I was unspeakably moved when I visited the Dohanyi Street Synagogue--and when I think of Tony Curtis that is the first thing I think of ...

This has been a very interesting discussion and I have learned a lot from it. I do still have some residual concern about how we discuss and invoke video. Somova may or may not be an appalling phenomenon--not having seen her live I can't say--but I do think that while criticizing her videos is, in this era, fair game (if not perhaps entirely fair since so much that is theatrical is not captured) one should at least note their dates. I am thinking in particular of the Sleeping Beauty (rose adagio above) which I have not looked at for years--and which is often cited to exemplify the horror of her dancing. It's a performance from at least three years ago--a lifetime for a young dancer. I myself just saw Ashley Bouder give a performance sensational in many ways but which involved several tiny adjustments during the course of her first big variation, somewhat undermining it to my mind, and a semi-stumble at the end of her fouttes--if that were to be all over Youtube, what might not we hear about Bouder's 'sloppiness' as if that were the eternal truth of Ashely Bouder? Of course one might say the big difference is context: people regularly see Bouder 'nail' her variations and those criticizing Somova's dancing here and elsewhere have seen her live or, like me, have been reading critics and message-board comments from long-time ballet-goers etc. and in that context it may make sense to say 'see, this old Sleeping Beauty seems to exemplify the problem' that we have seen in many other performances or that we are trying to describe....and yet I remain a little uneasy about the way a particular performance, early (or in other cases late) in someone's career becomes some kind of frozen exemplar for criticism to refer to even years later...I've had to learn to live with the fact that Kirkland's Nutcracker video IS Kirkland for most of today's ballet fans whereas I don't even think that it should count as her Nutcracker! It occurs to me that this is perhaps a different topic than Somova per se and I really can't 'defend' a ballerina I have never seen live and whose video excerpts do not suggest I would find her a favorite (though I'm on record as thinking some of the Little Humpbacked Horse excerpts rather charming and not hating the Diamonds video). Anyway, I just wanted to register a certain unease at the way we invoke video evidence--obviously we can, and this discussion certainly has, benefited from it and yet I would still advocate for a more cautious (and, especially, date sensitive) way to talk about it. I AM learning a lot from all these detailed analyses and was fascinated by the suggestion of a certain stylistic relation between Somova and Mezentzeva--whom I saw once and 'respected' but did not particularly like. What was my shock when I learned she was one of the truly adored Kirov dancers!

On the mystique front: tonight (Saturday) Ashely Bouder gave the pre-curtain speech and alluded to the criticisms: I have forgotten her exact words but she more or less assured the audience that she will continue to have surprises in store for us once the curtain goes up on her dancing. Both Friday night and Saturday afternoon, the pre-curtain events involved audience participation: Friday Peter Martins led the audience in rhythmic clapping to music from Namouna--from the passage where the dancers themselves play cymbals if I'm remembering correctly--and at today's matinee Daniel Ulbricht taught everyone the opening gesture of Serenade and some 'jazz' movement from Interplay. As far as I could tell, the vast majority of the audience participated. I have no idea and even no opinion on whether or not this will 'work' as a way to build audiences, but I certainly cannot blame the company for trying and don't see the harm -- though I was myself far too self-conscious to join young and old as they gestured out the opening of Serenade. Interplay I don't much like anyway... (For me, as a non-New-York who hardly ever gets to see NYCB, the repertory this weekend was irresistable -- major Balanchine, some of which, such as Who Cares, I have not seen in decades, plus the new Ratmansky, so I have been making it a weekend in NY; no disasters intervening, I return home late Sunday night and will arrive at work very unprepared on Monday morning.)

This was more or less my reaction. Without thinking this was a great Diamonds, I found the video far from "nasty" (as one viewer above did), though I could not quite put an analysis into words.

I thought Porter DID resemble the young Fonteyn rather strongly--just not the young Fonteyn as a dancer (and, as one discovered, she had no stand out traits/strengths of her own). Perhaps the resemblance itself was as much a burden as any hype it generated. As I recall, she was rather delightful in the secondary role Ashton created for her in A Month in the Country as a servant girl who flirts with the hero, and that may have also helped to make her seem more promising than she was. I would like to return to topic, but have never seen Somova. For a while, all the (negative) hoopla made me curious, but by now I find it depressing to think about. An over-rated ballerina at the Maryinksy--even at the Maryinsky--is scarcely an unheard of scandal. But an over-rated ballerina cast as their young superstar at home and abroad is, shall we say, unexpected... (I do think that Zakharova, with all her limitations, is considerably better than the Somova I have read about; I understand the reasons for the comparison, but doubt it is entirely fair to the former.)

I don't think it's quite accurate to describe Sutherland as a Brit.

Just wonderful! Thank you so much Bart!! I only saw Vasiliev and Maximova together live once, in Chicago in the early 90's: a performance by a travelling group Vasiliev put together. (I've posted about this performance before.) I just adored them. And I could not get over how youthful and fresh Maximova's dancing was. It had a spacious, easy quality that I often think of as one of the first things to go in older ballerinas. Of course, she was being showcased very intelligently by Vasiliev's choreography--but that just increased my admiration for their professionalism and artistry. (He was similarly intelligent in what he gave himself to do and more obviously limited, but still remarkable and, need one add, a very charismatic performer.) From that one performance (and as confirmed by video -- whatever its limitations), they are two of my absolute favorites.

I am one of those who think it is at best hopeless and at worst counter-productive to put pressure on companies to exclude potential donors for moral or political reasons. I would though agree that they should, in the normal course of things, refuse money from donors who expect to influence artistic policy in direct fashion. Even good suggestions from a donor could set a bad precedent. (I added "in the normal course of things" because I guess Balanchine, for example, would not necessarily have chosen to choreograph for Tilly Losch but, as Tim Gunn would say, he made it work. And I'm sure one could come up with many other examples.) Of course, in a general way, donors are influencing artistic policy and its accompanying 'politics'(which may or may not have an obvious content or serve an external purpose) simply by virtue of what/who they choose to support. What if Lincoln Kirstein had decided to focus his energies on one of his other loves such as sculpture? Perhaps Central Park would have a remarkable sculpture garden and Lincoln Center have no home for ballet at all. This does not mean that I'm not sympathetic to those who feel some pangs at the current situation. Having the New York State Theater renamed for a private donor (whatever his politics) was something of a mild shock to me and (speaking for myself only of course) the particular politics of the donor involved did not...um...er...soften the blow. BUT I do not think it is entirely hopeless or at all counter-productive to put pressure on political figures and government generally (local and federal) to support the arts, including pressure to try to keep the dispersal of public funds in the hands of people in the arts world, i.e. people whose moral/political agendas will at the very least be mediated by a primary committment to the art forms in question. The more public funding is available the less need for artists to go hat-in-hand to ... whoever. (I do realize that public funding, too, is never entirely 'pure.') I fully understand that many of us may choose to place our public priorities elsewhere, but letting political figures know that public support for the arts matters--and could even influence votes--could possibly have some sort of impact. Though I realize it's a long shot, since I'm guessing the numbers of people for whom this issue will ever be a deal-breaker when it comes to votes and other kinds of support is very small. (In one election a candidate I otherwise disliked was on record as supporting the creation of a national commissioner for boxing--something I strongly support, but recognize is probably not a "deal breaker" issue in a major election ( ahem)--but I just loved telling all my friends, that it was making me reconsider my vote. Unfortunately I was never able to convince any of them I was serious. But with arts funding maybe one could pull it off...and threaten to stay at home if no-one would come out in favor!)

Mashinka, I couldn't quite tell if you were kidding around or not . Anyway, to play straight man, the answer would presumably be because only a rather small number of today's ballet goers (or even yesterday's) celebrate the autumn harvest or crown queens of the vine...Christmas is widely celebrated and big business besides. (Nor is the harvest quite as integral to the staging of Giselle as Christmas is to the Nutcracker.) But I guess if some company--perhaps a regional company in Napa valley--wanted to market Giselle as a seasonal ballet, then it might be worth a try. (And I am definitely kidding around.)

Thank you Leonid--I had not seen that bit of video before.

The performance sounds very exciting (Dwil also wrote about it briefly on another thread)-- wish I had been there.

I did not know that line from Croce; it sounds exactly right. In the meanwhile, I have been vaguely wondering if the fact that I see so little ballet in recent years--usually just a handful of performances a year--has made me lose my critical edge (or eye)--and I accept that Osipova may not be for everyone however smitten I happen to be. But reading Clement Crisp, Ismene Brown and other London critics--or indeed Chiapuris on this thread--I don't think my reactions were totally unmoored from reality and EVEN Osipova (with Halberg!) could not make me change my opinion of Macmillan's Romeo and Juliet, so perhaps I still have some critical faculties....

Bella12--I'm sure you are right as I was writing from middle-aged memory. I am just mortified. Thank you and apologies to Lopatin.

Edited to add: This came out really long--even for me. I wanted to pay tribute to what I saw because I simply loved it, but apologise still for going over the top. I have been ill--and my computer, as if in hysterical sympathy, is actually in a coma (I am on a borrowed and rather ancient laptop). But I will try to say something about Coppelia which I saw three times in London, twice in a cast led by Osipova and Skvortsov and once led by Stashkevich and Lopatin (I had the name wrong and Bella12 corrected me below). The production as has been noted already is a Vikhaerev reconstruction of the Petipa/Ceccheti one of 1895--with fine traditional backdrops and gorgeous picture-book bright costumes. The production is altogether joyful and beautifully, even lovingly danced. There is a touch of 'grandeur' that I don't remember from other Coppelia's I have seen (going back to Frederic Franklin's for the National Ballet and including the Royal Danish Ballet's and Balanchine-Danilova's)--a Lord of the Manor turns up in the final act; he sends a minion to pay off the distraught Coppelius whom we never see join in the final celebrations. Coppelius himself looks a bit of a gentleman (however eccentric) and lives in a rather grand home with huge paintings of (I think) mythological subjects on his wall. The Czardas in particular is done by a largish ensemble in costumes that are more Act III Swan Lake national celebration than ballet-villagers and the Act III finale dedicating the town bell is a clearly an elaborate allegory of time--with a large clock in the back, an ancient bearded figure sitting atop it, and small children surrounding it, moving the hours. Yet none of this grandeur is at all pompous or heavy-handed--rather it's light, joyful, vivid. What is particularly remarkable about this production though is that the whole company, at all three performances I saw, managed to hit exactly the right balance of being true to the nineteenth-century spirit of the production (at least to an amateur's eye) while bringing it alive with the kind of immediacy and brilliance one would expect from a masterwork created yesterday. It looked traditional and yet utterly fresh. This is a joyful Coppelia not a 'dark' one--it could hardly be otherwise with the wonderful Natalia Osipova as Swanilda. At the first performance I saw I was especially struck with the utter softness and lyricism of her upper body throughout, the lacey delicacy and lightness of her dancing in Act I, the ease and joy of her movements in the finale. One felt the romantic sources of the production even as one enjoyed the sunnily articulated splendor of every step. I have seen Osipova in four ballets now and, writing about her, I think one should emphasize not her powerhouse technique, but her absolute dedication to whatever ballet she is dancing even as she has her own distinctive and charismatic presence. She appears to give herself over completely to the spirit of the choreography. (Who that saw her Juliet at ABT in July can forget how utterly spent and even dazed she looked the first few curtain calls?) As a matter of fact, this Swanilda is not a powerhouse performance: I have seen more amazing fouettes, balances etc. and she was too respectful of the choreography to push where it called for simplicity--this is a ballerina role in which she dazzles with single pirouettes paused at the end with arms opening to show the audience her position or even simple pas de bourree. That said, Act II was simply extraordinary, brilliantly danced (I have never seen it more brilliantly danced) AND brilliantly characterized (perhaps Fracci or Kirkland characterized it with similar intensity--I'm not sure). Indeed the second time I saw Osipova's Swanilda I was sitting in the front row--a surprisingly good seat at Covent Garden as one only loses a bit of the feet--and even at that distance she was uncannily doll like. And from doll like she lets it rip, while somehow remaining her sunny, confident Swanilda-self, determined to teach this rather goofy Coppelius a lesson (as I said it's not a dark production). Whether in the expansive yet sharp-edged Spanish dance or unbelievably quick footwork and soaring, soaring, soaring changements de pieds of her Scottish dance or the little details between these set pieces when she and Coppelius are, at it were, arguing over what she should do or dance next--or the wonderful verve with which she chases him with a sword siezed from one of the dolls--the whole scene unfolds with unbelievable intensity and speed. It's wonderful and then, alas, it's over. And the whole is MORE than helped along by the wonderful Gennadi Yanin who manages to make Coppelius a sympathetic and believable eccentric -- less crazed artist than lonely provincial gentleman with the pretensions of an amateur inventor stirred by loneliness into daydreams of magus-like powers. The simple childlike dignity with which he assumes his magician's cloak as he begins (as he thinks) to bring Coppelia to life perfectly suggests the humanity and tenderness of this portrayal. When he and the rather smaller, yet still boxer-fierce Osipova stand literally nose to nose staring each other down--it is adorable and funny and unforgettable. Osipova is ballerina beautiful in Act III. From the front row, I found her facial expressions perhaps a bit too ballerina-ish--but I make allowance due to my peculiar seat...and honestly because this is someone for whom I will make allowance because of all that her commitment as an artist has given me. Chiapuris has mentioned the backward hops on pointe the ballerina does in the coda to the pas de deux. I can remember a lot of ballerinas hopping across the stage in various ballets but never any going backwards -- even with Osipova I have to say it does not look like the easiest trick in the world! As for the company: during the finale, perhaps dazed by the Delibes (which I love) and the wonderfully energized quality of every single soloist, I thought to myself, "they must be the best ballet company in the world today." In fact, I don't believe in "best ballet companies"--different companies have different repertories, good nights, bad nights, good productions, bad productions. But certainly--I will say, a very successful production of Coppelia. A few more words about the company as a company. I have become ruthless about throwing out programs, but I believe the Swanilda has eight friends and over the course of three performances I saw two casts: the quality of both casts was excellent. Every one of the women seemed as she could have been a leading soloist--the security, the largesse, the clarity, the (forgive the repetition) joy. Basically all the classical dancing in the Act I divertissement for Swanida and her friends was a highlight at least as exciting in its way as any orgy in Spartacus. The Mazurka and Czardas were, too, simply amazing. Indeed watching the Mazurka I thought 'character dancing can't get any better than this' and then the splendid Czardas came along to prove me wrong. The dancers seem to live inside the energetic rhythms and music: and every change, every alternation--from the slow dignified, to the fast and sharp is so bright, so vibrant--one wishes they would just repeat it all again. I loved the last act allegory-divertissement...Though I still think Balanchine manages to make a more exciting finale out of it all, the difference is largely made up for by the quality of the Bolshoi dancers. That said, if only to prove that I have not drunk Bolshoi cool-aid I will offer a few minor reservations about some of the soloists (not all). It was luxury casting for London (I'm guessing Krysanova does not dance every performance of Dawn when the company is not on a major tour--indeed the company program had a picture of Chinara Alizade in the role, a corps dancer I remember from several years ago and was hoping to see again.). ALL of the Act III soloists at every performance of the ballet I saw had luxuriant and gorgeous upper bodies--head, arms, shoulders all looked like ballerinas. Krysanova was excellent (particularly at the last two performances) but neither Anna Nikulina nor Victoria Osipova as Prayer were able to get a secure position in arabesque penche (please imagine accent) -- a signature moment in that solo. I will note Nikulina's exquisite, liquid bourrees. Anna Leonova had an attacking, staccato style in her big jumping solo (Folly)--I was not altogether crazy about this in the solo as I often prefer more streamlined dancing, but in the coda-finale when all the soloists join in she was simply brilliant. Indeed in the finale all the performers danced with such expansiveness, authority, and ease they really carried the music and/or were carried by it to new heights. (Yatsenko led the allegory of work--she had a heavier style than the others to my eyes, but also impressed in the coda.) Stashkevich danced Swanilda at the second performance I saw. (Mashinka has already commented that Stashkevich seemed much improved to her from earlier performances.) I had never seen her before and I thought her dancing was excellent throughout--really top notch--and I enjoyed her portrayal though I found her dancing a bit harder edged than Osipova in Act I and less secure in the lengthy promenade of the Act III adagio. (I think "promenade" is the word I want...) If Stashkevich had been the only Swanilda I saw I would still be raving about this production--and I think she makes a very fine Swanilda. Readers who have made it this far may notice I have not mentioned the men. They don't do much in this production but even allowing for the little they do I have to say I was a touch underwhelmed. Both Skvortsov and Lopatin (Stashkevich's Franz, as Bella12 reminded me below as I had misremembered the name) seemed to underplay the goofy comedy involved in this role--say, asking Swanilda to marry you one moment and flirting with the strange girl in the window the next. The quite good looking and even rather charming Skvortsov seemed to pick it up a little the second time I saw him--but as I was in the first row I could not help wondering if he simply does not project the comedy as much as he could/should: and one thing I remember about Bolshoi dancers of the 70's -- they PROJECTED. His dancing was pleasant and easy but not otherwise distinguished; Lopatin perhaps a little sharper in the articulation of his feet and little more elevation in his jumps--but even lower-key in his characterization which on the whole made me prefer Skvortsov. (On other threads I have expressed concern about the waning male strenght at ABT but either of the two Romeos I saw in July (Halberg and Gomez) would, I believe, far outshine these men in their variations and characterizations even in this production where the men do so little.) I don't mean to end on a down note--the Franz's were fine and both had a pleasing lightness to their dancing, but they were not the reason to see this production. The production itself is a wonder: true to the past, yet living in the present; offering both classical and character dancing at their most vibrant, beautiful, and engaging as well as offering a showcase for great individual performances (such as Yannin's and Osipova's--performances that will go down among the best I have been fortunate enough to see) AND offering a showcase for the whole company. Mind you, it's Coppelia--I'm raving, yes, but it's not razzle-dazzle, just great classical ballet. Hope they bring it to the United States.

Now I am back in the United States, I thought I would add a little bit to my earlier comments about the Bolshoi in London. I was partly inspired by my strong agreement with the comment in yesterday's NY Times review that the company appears to be in full flower. Chiapuris's reviews have registered and celebrated the same thing, but I was so dazzled and made so happy by the performances I saw I want to celebrate it a little more! In the heydey of Grigorovitch's directorship of the company I saw Ivan the Terrible, The Golden Age, and (his) Romeo and Juliet--but somehow never Spartacus. I almost took a pass in London but am glad I decided not to do so. With the company giving a seemingly enthralled and certainly enthralling performance, it was just terrific. I will add that I do not find it deeply memorable--and by the middle of the the third act it is rather too obviously repetitive in its effects--but moment by moment at the Bolshoi's opening night in London, I was kept (metaphorically) on the edge of my seat with excitement. As I think many readers of this forum know, the ballet sets massed, heroically posed groupings into wildly athletic sequences highlighted by the four principles who at different points lead the various groups charging across the stage with a vitality and sensuality that I doubt any other ballet company in the world can muster. It alternates these scenes with individual 'monologues' for the leads in which they dance with much the same athleticism, though sometimes a little more slowly, in scenes meant to express their motives and character and--if 'expression' be understood as offering the very broadest emotional strokes imaginable ('arrogance,' 'suffering,' etc.)--they do express them. I said above I had never seen Spartacus--I had in fact twice seen excerpts and the most recent occasion (some years ago, perhaps when V. Vasiliev or Fadayechev was directing?) the company looked drab and uninterested in the ballet, with the predictable result that the potentially entertaining became simply embarassing--a Cecil B De Mill flop. Not so in London. Those who remember the ballet from its heydey may be able to criticize: what I saw was passion and energy let loose so as to bring the hokiest of the ballet's sentiments and all its athleticism to brilliant, joyous, believable life. There was one moment--I'm no longer sure exactly when but I think women were running around the stage in some sort of orgy--when I thought THIS is simply sensational; THIS is what people mean by the Bolshoi. Of course, without good principals the whole thing would fall flat. I agree with many of the critics who said the Crassus, Volchkov, got better as the night went along--the signature 'fish' jump initially seemed a bit low and unimpressive--but he definitely built up steam effectively. Several London critics were mad for Maria Allash as Aegina--I thought she did a fine job but she was the one dancer on stage all evening whom one could see occasionally 'adjusting' her positions whereas everyone else just flung themselves into the choreography and managed nonetheless fully to convey control as well as power. (The role is so leg-centric--that I confess I would be curious what Zakharova would make of it.) That said, Allash had a wonderful sensuality particularly in her upper body and if it were not for the very high standard of everyone around her on stage I might not even have noticed the little adjustments. Kaptsova was a delicate and fragile-appearing Phrygia--lovely in every way. Personally, I felt she did not quite have the full emotional weight called for in the final scene of mourning over Spartacus's body, but her dancing in every other portion of the ballet was exquisite. Of course, the "event" of this performance was the young Ivan Vasiliev's Spartacus--he brings the role intensity, brilliance, power, and control. This is not just evident in, say, huge leaps but also in beautifully articulated turns with an arched torso that seemed as if they were a pure embodiment of emotions (longing and desperation). He also has the kind of presence that holds your attention when he is standing still--not that he stands still much in this ballet. I had thought his (relatively) small size would be undermining in this ballet. Not a bit of it to my eyes. Indeed, he was the one person on stage who seemed to me easily to be able to take his place next to the Bolshoi dancers of Grigorovitch's own era in this kind of work. I will say that as days passed, Spartacus in no way "grew" in my memory--rather it faded. I think this speaks to the fact that (for my taste) the ballet itself is more guilty pleasure than great art, 'sensational' rather than 'spiritual'. I'm not even sure I would want to see it a second time, unless perhaps it were my only chance to see Vasiliev again. But I also would not want to sell short the tremendous impact it has--at least on a first viewing of a strong and committed performance. The ballet definitely "lives" in this company's performances and lives in a way that proves it does deserve to live. (Something that was not so evident when I saw the excerpt so drably performed years ago.) I will try to write a little later today about Coppelia -- a production of the ballet that HAS grown in my memory -- and Natalia Osipova's brilliant Swanilda and indeed the whole company which, in a ballet that is (to say the least) rather different from Spartacus, indeed appears to be "in full flower."

The lighting in the photo is just beautiful.

It does seem possible this kind of photo would be specially 'posed'--so they just assume a more or less concluding 'fish dive' position to invoke the ballet. However, that's a speculation on my part...

A few comments to supplement Chiapuris's remarks about the Mikhailovsky in London: I saw two performances of their Swan Lake and one of their mixed bill. A highlight for me was the chance to see the Gusev reconstruction of Petipa's "Le Halte de Cavalrie"--a perfect operetta of a ballet, with a charming, character dancing anti-heroine in red boots, a suitably sweet couple the anti-heroine tries and fails to break up--her rival dances on pointe--and of course the visiting cavalry with its three officers making a brief stay in the peasant (ballet-peasant) town: in ascending rank the officers are cloyingly romantic, arrogantly macho, and...uh...clutzily pompous (or pompously clutzy) as each tries to win over the anti-heroine. In the choreographic highlight of her role she parodies all three of them in front of everyone in town. Anyway, I don't know how much is Petipa and how much is Gusev's reimagining, but I thought it was altogether delightful -- and the dancers really looked as if they were enjoying themselves. (Nacho Duato for this group? Ugh.) The Swan Lake is a 1950's Soviet Swan Lake--brought to the West on the Bolshoi's first tour. It predictably includes a hyperactive Jester, a happy ending, and short shrift to the mime. For much of Act I the Siegfired is in healed shoes which contributes to the slightly old-fashioned air. And when I say "short shrift to the mime," I mean for example: during Act I, I looked over to the side of the stage for one nano-second to admire some costume and--as I thought--entirely missed the Queen (or, in this version, "sovereign Princess,") telling Siegfried to get married. So I watched more carefully at the second performance so as not to miss it and...uh...it does not happen. In any case, their mime exchange lasts about a nano-second. On the other hand, watching the tutor be made a fool of by the women of the corps brought back memories of a similar (though not identical) sequence in David Blair's version. Notes I read about this Asaf Messerer production point to the "white acts" as the ballet's highlight and, in particular, its asymmetrical groupings of the swans and the active relation of the corps to the central pas de deux. Both of these comments were confirmed in performance and there was much that was beautiful in this staging and even the happily concluded Act IV. In a way Messerer's asymmetrical 'complications' of Ivanov would be interesting to compare directly with Balanchine's more symmetrical ones. I cannot compare well based solely on memory. (Still, pure Ivanov would be a pleasure, though I could probably live without Benno being part of the Act II partnering. The company also brought to London the revival of Laurencia which I missed: I refrain from speculating on the program's allusion to its interest in "Stalin era" choreography.) Other highlights of this Swan Lake for me include the high quality of the character dancing in Act III. The Spanish dance--always a highlight when I have seen Soviet or Russian companies--was here made part of Rothbart's entourage, an oddity that, at any rate, is less odd than what Kevin Mckenzie has Rothbart do...Soloists were fine--some better than others--but not to my eyes outstanding except perhaps for Oxana Bondareva in the pas de trois. Chiapuris mentioned that Ayupova is now a ballet mistress with the company; Bondareva is a touch in her style. The first Odette/Odile I saw was Semionova, a very elegant and cool Odette; I found her more effective as Odile where her coolness 'hardened' into a glitter that retained its elegance; when this Odile calculated her "Odette" imitation she seemed almost subtle in the pleasure she was taking in the con--I quite liked that; Semionova also danced Odile's variations with great control. Oddly, though, I enjoyed the company's own Ekatrina Borchenko more (certainly as Odette I found her more moving) though she did not have Semionova's fine technical command at all times. London critics received Borchenko very cooly and Ismene Browne commented that she seemed nervous opening night. (They all politely panned the Siegfried--deservedly I suppose, though he was not without a certain likeability.) I saw Borchenko at the company's final London performance: I liked her stretched out look--I did not find her positions extreme which I infer others did--and appreciated the flexibility and movement of her back and neck. I also liked the way she would slow down or even seem to stop within a dance phrase, giving it a rubato that made the whole portrayal seem more expressive. May I also take a moment to praise SINGLE fouettes in Act III (Borchenko managed about 27 but all without any travelling or perhaps only a tiny bit). Ballerinas no longer seem to have any interest in the cutting brilliance that can be achieved with singles--if only because they are faster than doubles and triples--or the mesmerizing quality of the constantly whipping leg. Of course they have to be done well and I thought Borchenko did them well. The Virsaladze costumes were simply stunning and the backdrop for the Lake scenes shimmering and lovely. (The projection of swans flying across the sky however was a little too literal minded for my taste and made me giggle.) Another treat for me at the final Swan Lake performance was seeing Alexei Ratmansky in the audience and, after the performance, seeing him stand with Yuri Burlaka outside the theater. In the repertory program I agree very much with what Chiapuris said about Spring Waters--the dancers long bodies were sort of splendid looking but they were just not free and daring enough to make this pas de deux work. To throw oneself into one's partner's arms carefully rather undermines the whole point of throwing oneself (for those unfamiliar with Spring Waters--as I was except by reputation--see Mcbride, Patricia or, more recently--Osipova, Natalia). The other excerpts offered a variety of pleasant and less pleasant touches with the character dancing in the Polonaise and Cracovienne of Ivan Susanin being another highlight for me. Samodurov's ballet "In a Minor Key" for three couples to Scarlatti was in a contemporary, eclectic style--it reminded me of some McGregor I have seen, but British critics mentioned several choreographers I have not seen, so who knows. Mashinka mentioned that the dancers said they found the choreography difficult. That is sort of how they danced. They did well but clearly were not able to fit their bodies with ease to the long-leg flinging, off-center stylings. I did not dislike the ballet but did dislike the women's costumes--bright red, super tight strapless bodices that looked like stripper outfits for a Dodge City saloon. Nothing in the ballet suggested this thematically so it just seemed tasteless to me. I feel that something more neutral, more "in a minor key" would have been more appropriate. Watching the company and considering their repertory I wondered about the possibility of a New York season. On the whole I do not think it has the principals and soloists to sustain a New York season--even with guest artists such as Semionova (and others such as Rojo) who danced in London. I do think the current repertory would interest many American ballet fans, but not necessarily the general public and 'star' dancers sell tickets. However, if some enterprising impresario can think of a way to package them--I'm all for it. I am myself very glad to have seen them.

Thanks to Chiapuris for these reviews. I am at a not very comfortable hotel computer station and won't be writing much unless perhaps after I return to the States. I did want to say at least that I was at both of these performances and agree that they were fabulous--On a few points perhaps I would have some very mild reservations/questions. (And I still prefer Balanchine's and Danilova's Coppelia at least when it comes to Act III.) But these were terrific performances with the company looking in great form. As Swanilda Osipova is a sheer joy to watch and I particularly appreciated Yannin's Coppelius who indeed, as Chiapuris reported, gave a rather sympathetic and (so to speak) humanely grounded performance. Indeed, all the performances in this meticulously prepared nineteenth-century classic and in the wildly over the top theatrics of Spartacus were, somehow, though in very different styles, characterized by a wonderfully humane quality--that is, one felt powerful and genuine emotion being communicated through all the (almost always excellent and often superlative) dancing whether classical or character....or whatever it is one calls Grigorovich.

My only opportunity to see any of the New York spring season of ballet was this past weekend. Thus no chance to see NYCB, just ABT in a production of Romeo and Juliet that I had long since given up on. (I believe Alexandra once wrote that the only thing that could get her to sit through it again would be the opportunity to see Kirkland and Dowell dance the leads. That was pretty much my feeling.) However, you play the cards you're dealt. If I want to see top-tier ballet, then I have to take the opportunities I can get and after last year's Giselle with Osipova and Hallberg, I had come to feel, in any case, that these are dancers not to be missed. Still, I have been reluctant to join this thread because I hesitate to sound a sour note. In fact, I believe Osipova and Hallberg deserve every accolade--she was wonderful: an impetuous and utterly believable Juliet, dancing with physical and emotional daring. Something about her seems to "charge" Hallberg almost electrically. I would say that for the first time in my (very limited) experience of his dancing he gave a performance worthy of his extraordinarily beautiful form. Indeed, I would say this was the finest male dancing and the finest male performance I have seen in decades. Her edgy energetic impetuousness and his silky impassioned elegance somehow work to a terrific blend. I really feel privileged to have seen these dancers in this performance. Yet none of this could really erase for me the longeurs of the ballet aggravated to interminability by the very weak performances of the entire matinee cast. I realize others have had positive things to say about some of these performances, but I respectfully disagree. Dancing "together" is not the sum total of what makes the male trios in this ballet work. Mercutio should be a "star" role--full of charisma and energy and brilliantly danced. At the Royal, major male principals (Dowell and Wall) would sometimes alternate in the roles of Romeo and Mercutio. And let's not forget that Dowell was the original Benvolio. Romeo should, as a dancer, be first among equals of course, but the whole sense of a ballet company's masculine strength should be on display. That's the real 'aristocracy' at stake. The other secondary roles (with the exception of the nurse) were likewise very below par all afternoon--no weight or sense of threat behind any of the pantomime and no particular edge to the harlot (or any other) dancing. Honestly, I'm not a fan of the ballet even when these secondary roles are done well, but to see them done so lamely simply drags it down close to unbearably. I agree with some of the analyses offered above about the differences between Vishneva and Osipova. Vishneva seemed a little more grown up from the very start, but both ballerinas in different ways suggested the shifts and development in Juliet's emotions. (Osipova seemed to grow emotionally second by second). In the first act solo Vishneva showed a sophisticated use of the upper body that gave the choreography a depth and hint of wit that it did not have in Ospiva's more 'girlish' performance--it just plain looked better, as if Macmillan had actually learned something from Ashton--and Vishneva's dancing with Gomez in the balcony scene pas de deux had a silkier, more elegant quality. (I am tempted to describe it as the difference between a Kirov version of Macmillan and a Bolshoi version.) In Act III, I thought her great experience showed and she took real command of the stage--when she first returned to Juliet's room with the potion she seemed hypnotised by it even as she was running across the stage, her eyes totally fixated on the bottle. I can see prefering the more lyrically elegant and emotionally mature Vishneva--though I too found Osipova's performance just extraordinarily exciting and thus hard to get over. One felt the power of discovery in her dancing and Hallberg's. At one point in the male solo dancing of the balcony scene pas de deux, Hallberg's classical beauty woven together with a pure, dancerly flow and infused with deep feeling achieved an almost dizzying expressiveness; I was briefly taken entirely out of myself--an experience that does not much happen to me in the theater anymore. In the evening, I thought Gomez was very good, and individually all of the solo and pantomime parts were stronger than at the afernoon's performance: harlots, priests, bad guys, good guys, in-between guys all danced more skillfully and mimed more convincingly--though as rightly pointed out above Salstein and Simkin kept getting out of sync which somewhat undermined the male trios. But it was not a "great" performance from the company as a whole--just far more respectable than the afternoon. I cannot help but be delighted that ABT brings its audience very high quality guest stars and, even better, tries to build relations with them, but the whole standard of the company needs to rise consistently with its leads whether they are guest stars or indeed their own regular principals (such as Murphy or Cornejo). From the reports that have been given all season, I infer there has been some terrific dancing. I wish I had seen more of it. What I saw left me thrilled but also a little worried about the state of the company.

I wanted to note the death last week (July 5th ) of the great Italian Basso Cesare Siepi--I never saw him, but heard some of his recordings when I was younger: notably a Don Giovanni which was used for the Salzburg Marionettes version I saw in the 80's. But the real reason I wanted to note Siepi's death is more personal. My mother, who died some years ago, was absolutely mad for him--passionate for his singing (she loved opera), but also with something of a girlish crush on him which my father seems to have fully indulged; she told me how one year when visiting New York they made for the restaurant where Siepi and his friends were known to gather and sing into the night. The restaurant was mostly empty by the time the singing began, but my parents stayed for it all. (It has been suggested to me now that I am ostensibly an adult that some of the stories my mother told me when I was a child may be suspect, but I resolutely believe this one...and unquestionably she was mad for Siepi.)

Hello Bolshoi watchers: I gather there have been some cast changes announced for the Bolshoi's Coppelia in London (unfortunately no Alexandrova and everyone else rearranged). This has somewhat complicated my planning for a trip to London later this month. (Work takes me there but I have been able to add days to my trip to see both the Mikhailovsky and Bolshoi.) I am curious what people can tell me about Stashkevich. Of course if I had world enough and time I would happily see all the leading Bolshoi dancers in all their roles, but as that might not be possible, I thought I would ask if anyone on ballet talk had seen her dance or knew something about her career. I did find a youtube clip of Stashkevich dancing Amour's variation in Don Q--but am not able to form much of an opinion from that. Any thoughts or opinions about her dancing?

With Sibley and Dowell in the Macmillan choreography these qualities were all well in evidence--as indeed, though given a somewhat different inflection, with Makarova and Dowell. (I never saw Seymour-Gable or Fonteyn-Nureyev, or Kirkland-Dowell, but I would be very surprised if their performances lacked in these qualities.) With the exception of Lavrosky's version of Romeo and Juliet, I do not think I have ever seen any production of the Prokoviev score that I did not think was very dancer dependent for its interest and emotional power, thought the stunning sets and scenery of Nureyev's version almost carried my interest entirely on their own. (I have not seen Ashton's or Neumeier's versions though...) Of the Romeos I had the opportunity to see in any version of the Prokoviev score(which do not include Corella but do include Nureyev, Wall, Stiefel, and Bocca), I thought Dowell was by far and away the greatest--the one who most suggested the depths of Romeo's inner life and thus also most set Romeo apart from everyone else on stage, except for Juliet, and who did so through dancing of the greatest nuance, elegance, and ardor. (Edited a bit later to add: I can infer raised eyebrows, since Nureyev always set himself apart on stage, but when I saw him he wasn't setting himself apart as 'Romeo' or connecting the apartness TO his Juliet.) Let me add: very many thanks for all these reports--and semi-apologies for invoking another generation of dancers. (Only semi apologies because, for a certain generation of ballet fan, referring to a description of Corella as the best Romeo or even calling Ferri--whom I have seen as Juliet--the best Juliet is like throwing red meat in front of a bull; of course we can't help ourselves .) If all goes well, then I will make it to New York and have the chance to compare Halberg and Gomez myself this weekend (board moderators: we need a 'superstition' emoticon--perhaps a little yellow head spitting onto the ground or tossing salt over its shoulder).

Onyxmyxtoes--Most of my ballet going (pretty much all) is organized around trips; I have several times had the experience of going somewhere (at considerable expense too!) to see x or y, only to have x or y cancelled. So I felt a huge sense of identification reading your post--my sympathies all the way. (The good news is that you will still see Vishneva...at least 'knock wood' you will.)