Drew

I agree that the Kowroski/Farrell comparison misses the the mark in many ways -- and when I have seen Kowroski in certain Farrell roles, I have also felt that those roles just showcased her limitations...but I did want to add that one of the most beautiful and (for me) most moving performances I ever saw Kowroski give WAS in a Farrell role: the 'muse' figure Farrell created in Robert Schumann's Davidsbundlertanze. By no means did she look like Farrell in the role, but it was a case of her inheriting that repertory and being able to give it 'new' life.

The Sleeping Beauty.

The 'original' Petipa, of course, though Lopokhov (sp.?) Lilac Fairy variants are okay by me!

Oddly, I couldn't cope with the Balanchine question, but this one I didn't even have to think about...Either my love of ballet includes a ruthless streak I didn't know about or the certainty of never actually having to face the problem in reality calmed me down. (Whereas we may one day face a reality in which we only have five or six Balanchine ballets that in any way resemble their originals.)

So, now, having given it some thought and, with the additional disclaimer that I don't really believe great art works can be ranked, and we are just playing...here are my reasons:

Disclaimers aside, I judge The Sleeping Beauty to be the greatest ballet ever made. It includes the greatest classical dancing ever choreographed, danced to the greatest ballet score ever composed. It also contains a tremendous variety of moods, elements, and styles -- making it a particularly exemplary work to serve as the last ballet standing.

Finally: we know historically what this ONE ballet inspired -- from the collaborative 'gesamtkunstwerk' oriented experiments of the Diaghilev company, to the Royal Academy of dancing, to Balanchine himself. So, if, in this imaginary future with only one ballet, some enterprising young artist (or artists) decided to revive the art, Sleeping Beauty allows for many wonderful developments. I don't think one could work 'backwards' in the same way from, say, a work by Ashton or Balanchine and somehow extrapolate a Petipa-esque vision.

I suppose this is just a wordier version of what Alexandra and Hans have written, so finally, finally (and in a more personal vein): I can't bring myself to say I love the Sleeping Beauty the best of all ballets, but I certainly can't think of any ballet I love more. It was the first ballet I ever saw, albeit in a film that chopped up (and out) tons of choreography, and it made me a balletomane immediately and, apparently, for life.

Thanks Alexandra -- I had checked the link when you first posted it above, and checked again after the performance. I'm confident about some dancers (e.g. Hojlund) and I actually think the listings in Atlanta were basically accurate, but based on people's descriptions the Terpsichore has become something of a question mark in my mind. Both Marie-Pierre Greve and Schandorff (not Lindstrom) were listed as being with the group in Atlanta and Schandorff was listed as dancing in Apollo.

Sometimes this sort of thing makes me crazy, but I'm trying to be more philosophical -- I saw a performance of the ballet which, as a whole, was characterized by a kind of simplicity and purity that was very effective and effectively 'centered,' too, by a very charismatic Apollo (Hubbe). Anyway, if someone happens to find out for sure who danced Terpsichore in Atlanta by all means post the information...

Effy and Alexandra -- the program definitely said Schandorff was dancing Terpsichore and (unlike in Brooklyn) seems not to have had obvious errors in it, but based on your descriptions of the dancers, I think I may have been seeing Marie-Pierre Greve. However, I was not sitting terribly close and since I don't know and don't want to short change anyone, I'll just say I thought it was a lovely performance.

I have never been able to figure out how to do accents over letters when posting, so please just imagine them whenever they are needed...

The Principles and Soloists of the Royal Danish Ballet came to Atlanta with a less Bournonville-centric program than was seen in Brooklyn. I was initially disappointed, but in some ways it may have turned out for the best.

Having read these earlier posts, I am now a bit paranoid about who I may or may not have seen and, in any case, seeing a group of dancers give a one time only performance of excerpts is not the best way to learn who they are or what they are trying to do. From this group. the only one of the dancers I had seen before was Hubbe. That said, barring mistakes in the program, the dancer who most impressed and delighted me all evening (other than Hubbe) was Tina Hojlund. In both modern and Bournonville works she seemed wonderfully all-of-a-piece, dynamic, and engaging...I can't really judge as an expert, but she seemed to me to "fit" the Bournonville choreography better than anyone else on stage...

Anyway, the program in Atlanta began with Apollo with Hubbe and (according to the listings) Schandorff, Cavallo, and Still. Schandorff or whoever was dancing Terpsichore (she did not have auburn or blond hair) had a nice freedom of movement and from a pure ballet perspective, I think, Apollo turned out to be by far and away the most satisfying experience of the evening. I thought this was a lovely performance in which Hubbe's precision, beauty, and dynamism combined with the purity and lightness of all three women to cast something of a spell...(The "ballet talk" thread on hokey critical phrases keeps nagging at me as I type, but I'm not doing this professionally, so I guess I can be as hokey as I want.) The taped music did nearly wreck things at one point, when the tape seemed to hit a glitch right before one of Hubbe's solos. His complete concentration and command saved the moment and the ballet right there...

The middle section of the program had two contemporary works by Rushton: Nomade (with -- always, according to the listings -- Hojlund and Blangstrup) and Triplex (with Cuni, Kupinski, and Hansen). In the latter I was struck by the woman's lovely classical lines and lightness, yet couldn't help feelilng that, as lovely as she was, this admitedly slight piece of choreography, which Liebs described as 'fake Twyla Tharp,' would have looked better danced by modern dancers. (I think much real Tharp choreography looks better danced by modern dancers.) I also thought the dancers, though superb, looked a touch careful now and then. Oddly enough, Nomad, where the vocabulary seemed a little more Grahamesque, seemed to suit these dancers better, and the soloists in that work brought a lot of power to it. Still, it was also very slight.

This section of the program concluded with an excerpt from Act II of La Sylphide, with Cavallo, Hubbe and three sylphs: Hojlund, Molbach Slot, and Cuni -- Hojlund (or, at any rate, the first of the sylphs to make an entrance, and offering an almost blurrily fluttering pas de bourree) was just lovely. Hubbe, too, danced beautifully, but he was never a big jumper in my experience, and he now has no bounce whatsoever, and also decidedly fudges his double tours. Allowing for that, however, he really shows you, even in excerpt, what a genuinely fine performance of this role might look like. I quite agree with what Liebs wrote above about a kind of joy in this repertory showing through his dancing. Like Liebs, too, I was less than charmed by Cavallo, though I wasn't sure why -- I thought perhaps her upper body seemed stiffer, perhaps, than was ideal.

However, I should add that I don't find the excerpt approach to Act II of Sylphide at all effective -- for me, it was a pleasure to have the opportunity to see some more Bournonville etc., but I would just as soon have seen some of the company's less frequently performed Bournonville repertory, especially as it at least seems more suited to excerpt form. (That said, a friend of mine who only attends the ballet occasionally thought this was the high point of the evening.)

The program closed with the pas de six and Tarantella from Napoli. I have never seen a full length Napoli, though I have seen a 'complete' Act III, and it is one of my all time favorite scenes in ballet. I was particularly fortunate to see casts led by Arne Villumsen, Linda Hindberg, Lis Jeppesen et. al. This evening's performance was certainly a pleasure -- if an uneven pleasure -- to see. The pas de six looked a little too dry and academic to me at first, though I suppose they want to work up to the tarantella. Still I was a little grumpy when Lund made his first appearance of the evening and was obviously doing some of the finest male dancing of the evening technically and yet seemed completely expressionless...fortunately things picked up when all the other dancers arrived on stage with tambourines and much of what followed was very good, including Lund who picked up in dash and expression. I particularly liked the way the dancers 'fed' off of each other, and flirted with each other, so that here and there the whole thing had just the right spontaneous feeling. One or two of the 'backround' dancers, in particular, seemed to have things just right, though some others and some of the soloists less so. Once again, Hojlund was an absolute delight. She was in yellow (there were actually two girls in yellow -- I thought the other may have been Cuni) and danced the solo that has an arabesque at least somewhat penche on pointe...Anyway, her dancing had wonderful inflections, upper and lower body working together, so the whole thing had a demi-character feel, while still showing a very fine classical technique.

I'm pretty sure Cavallo was doing the Teresina (dusty blue color). She once danced with the Atlanta ballet and, here in Atlanta, was given the only solo bow of the evening when the ballet was over -- the audience was appreciative and I should add I liked her better in this than in Sylphide; actually I quite liked her in this, and liked the way Lund presented her, except that when he threw himself to the ground, he went down so slowly and carefully (actually didn't throw himself at all) that I was a little bemused and not in a good way. Let's just say that it was my moment to miss Arne Villumsen. Anyway, elsewhere he showed a wonderfully supple back and a more forceful presentation all round. Hubbe also made an appearance that had a lot of sparkle. Altogether, the whole of the tarantella was very enjoyable...

I feel the above sounds just a little reserved or, perhaps as if I can't quite make up my mind. I find it hard not to compare the present dancers to those I've seen in the past -- even just the past "Soloists of the Royal Danish Ballet," a group that included Niels Kehlet and Ib Andersen when I saw it. With Apollo, at least, one felt one was seeing a serious performance of a substantive work, led by a great dancer...With Napoli, it was just a very good, if uneven performance of dances abstracted from a substantive work. Perhaps I'm just jealous of those who saw the company in D.C.

I saw her as a guest artist with various European companies in the States, and I know she often appeared as a partner for Nureyev on his marathon tours both in the States and elsewhere. I recall her as rather long limbed with somewhat angular and distinctive facial features, but my memories are very dim...For example I'm certain that I saw her in Giselle, but honestly don't remember the performances very well and am not quite sure if I saw her with a company from Berlin, the Festival Ballet, or both.

I'm posting because I do remember a performance of Miss Julie that was just fabulous (though I'm still not sure which company she was appearing with) -- I even recall that a critic in Ballet Review who had otherwise not much admired Evdokimova gave the performance a rather striking though very backhanded compliment (something to the effect that, in playing this horrible, unattractive mess of a character Evdokimova had, at last, found a role that perfectly suited her talents -- the exact quote, which I have long since forgotten, was even nastier and, to be honest, funnier). Anyway, I thought the snarkiness was very uncalled for, but couldn't help laughing a little since the remarks did catch something about how really spot on the portrayal seemed, at least to me who had never seen the ballet before. She just inhabited the role in a very unabashed way... Anyway, I wish my memories were more 'spot on,' so any help filling in the above would be welcome...

Swiss Chard -- To respond to your post...there is no particular "story" about Inoue and Baldwin. The final pairs free skates were all quite poor. Inoue and Baldwin had some serious errors, but the other pairs, including the 'favorites' Scott and Dulebohn, were even worse. The camera was on them when they learned of their victory (at least if ABCs editing wasn't screwing with its viewers which is not a given) and they looked pretty blank about it, though he did lean over to give her a hug...Later they said, more or less, that it's not really the way you hope to win.

I suppose I'm a bit ornery about music for skating -- I'm actually not crazy about Swan Lake for skating programs either. Just as nineteenth-century critics found it too symphonic for ballet, I find it too symphonic for skating...and the abrupt cutting of the music bothers me as well. I also think the "swan" image created by Tchaikovsky is a woman-turned-swan, and young skaters can't do much with that...

For a while I even decided I prefered to see skaters use shlockier music, since the music cuts and mediocre arena sound systems don't seem to be as much of a crime against the music when the music isn't that great to begin with. And, to consider the problem a little more seriously, I think skating needs music that doesn't, in effect, overwhelm it artistically. But, of course, one tires of listening to schlocky music! So, I'm always hoping for some kind of balance -- something I find interesting and genuinely supportive of dance and movement, but at the same time something that won't 'compete' with the skating and won't suffer too much from the exigencies of cuts etc. (By the by, I like Michelle Kwan's choice of Peter Gabriel a lot.)

I'm afraid there isn't too much to say about the pairs -- though afterwards Baldwin and Inoue seemed fairly candid in discussing their "bittersweet" victory (one of them described it that way) and he also seemed quite the gentleman in taking responsibility for their problems.

ABC telecast men's and dance (final groups) on Saturday afternoon.

I don't think it's fair to speculate as to whether a skater is a "nice"person or not...I will concede that I think it very unlikely that any highly ranked, world-class athlete (Tiger Woods, Michelle Kwan and those competitors seemingly on their heels) turns out to be a sweety-sweety when it comes to their sport! If Sasha Cohen's problems as a competitor are, as many seem to think, at least partly psychological -- nerves etc. -- then growing up a little more may help. I certainly hope so.

I feel compelled to write a little in Cohen's defense since I just saw her skate live for the first time as part of the exhibition following the U.S. championships. Her positions are even more exquisite in real space/time than on television. The sheer flow of skating is, as everyone comments, much more evident for all skaters when one sees them live, and seeing a skater with such precise positions as Cohen live really adds to the impact of the skate. All the picturesque poses really move across the ice. In short, she seems still more graceful and certainly "softer" than on television (and I like her on television). I realize, too, that she was doubtless much less tense skating in exhibition -- but I've compared the live skate with the ABC telecast and live does seem to me to make some difference.

I'll add one word more in Cohen's defense. I simply don't believe that it's possible to skate the way Sasha Cohen skates if one doesn't have "passion." It's simply too hard to achieve that skill level. I understand that the passion may not communicate itself all the time to an audience, but especially in those extraodinarily stretched spins in arabesque (I don't know the skating term, some kind of camel perhaps?) with her back slightly arched, she seems to be taking the position to the very limits of what it can be, and the image is, in my eyes, one that does convey passion. With more experience, more confidence (I mean genuine confidence not bravado) and, yes, maturity, she may well be able to bring still more of that quality to her performances.

Whether Cohen will ever be able to win the big, prestige competitions -- I have no idea, but I hope so...For the rest, I love Johnny Weir, a skater entirely new to me, though from what I'm reading, the way he skated this week was new even to people who have seen him before. I liked the fourth place finisher, Ryan Jahnke (?) a lot as well; at the exhibition he seemed to me to have tremendous presence and power, though I can't say the audience roared and ABC decided not to include the skate at all...I also thought Michelle Kwan was fabulous in her competitive skates (which I only saw on television), though I would be happy never to see another woman skater skate to Tosca ever again. I think it's dreadful music for skating and I would say that I would be happy never to see any skater skate to it, but I sort of thought Yagudin pulled it off. Perhaps the sheer power of a great male skater can somehow match the melodrama of the highlights style music "cuts" that skating programs use from the opera.

I also thought Kwan's exhibition skate, though not one of my favorites, showed her ability to respond to a very different kind of music and was, of course, thrilling to see live. I am far from thinking Kwan overated...even in her short program with its small mistake on the double axel she seemed to me to have a more compelling presence on the ice than Cohen or anyone else at this competition. Her interview persona is, too, the most poised and pleasant of any professional athlete I have ever seen and has been so, in the past, after disappointments as well as smashing successes. But all my admiration for Kwan cannot keep me from appreciating Sasha Cohen's lovely qualities as a Skater...and hoping for her future success as well.

Thanks Mel -- I didn't know any of that. It's a very effective moment. (One can only guess how many other such moments have been lost even in the Russian/Soviet versions, though if someone could do more than guess, then I might vote in favor of a full scale 'revival' of the original -- Benno partnering Odette and all...)

This is sort of a minor point, but I remember really loving the Spanish dance in the Sergeyev version...I recall a moment when the women somewhat suddenly stretch/curve their bodies way over to the side with a fan-wielding arm overhead -- and, as they reach the extreme point of the curve, they open their fans. It looked as if their bodies were doubling the movement of the opening fans. I also thought that this version of the Spanish dance was more or less kept in the Vinogradov version -- though someone may correct me. I do hope no one will tell me that my memory is inventing this altogether, since it's one of the highlights of my Swan Lake recollections!

When I saw the Vinogradov version, I had been warned how dreadful the ending was, but actually liked it a little more than...well...than anyone else did. I semi-joked to a friend that, conceptually, it was perfect for post-Soviet Russian since evil (Rothbart) was defeated, but even so, good (Odette and Siegfried) did not triumph. I won't fill in the dots on the political allegory, since we try to keep politics off the board, but I assume it's obvious enough even to people who disagree with me. I also found it visually effective to see the swans exit as they had entered -- and I felt that it captured a melancholy, dark tone while leaving the future still a little uncertain.

To return to the thread topic -- thanks to everyone for reports on these performances (and more please). I had hoped to come to Washington to see some for myself, but in the end was unable to do so...

I realize this is a bit off topic, but I wanted to register my own sense of Pavolova's tremendous historical influence. Ashton is perhaps the most stunning case, but Robert Helpman in AUSTRALIA was brought to the world of international dance and theater through Pavlova. While hardly as important a choreographer as Ashton he certainly has been a key institional force (performer, director, choreographer) in the history of ballet and theater in Britain and Australia. The Washington School of Ballet (where Amanda Mckerrow, Kevin Mckenzie, and Marianna Tcherkassky, among others, all received part of their training) was founded by a dancer who danced with Pavlova's company. Seeing Pavlova at the age of six also seems to have played a key role in shaping the life choices of Margot Fonteyn. I actually agree that the emphasis should be on choreographers, but there are a tiny handful of transcendent ballet dancers who really impact the art in a way that I suspect can be compared to choreographers. For the nineteenth-century think of Taglioni and Ellsler. Giselle seems to have become a different ballet in Ellsler's hands than it had been before...This needn't lead to a trivialization of dance as an autonomous "art" and one sees similar phenomena in other performing arts as well (David Garrick and Edmund Kean in Shakespeare). I would give Pavlova that kind of credit.

However, none of this is directed at the book under discussion which I haven't yet had the good fortune to see. I do think that the way a historian 'tells' a story is very much shaped by what they think their story means. Lincoln Kirstein's histories of ballet tend to be written from the point of view of ballet history's culmination (as he interprets it) in the plotless work of George Balanchine. Someone more interested in institutional histories or changes in technique might spend more time on teachers, etc. etc. In any case, I am definitely looking forward to reading "No Fixed Points."

I always find myself coming back to the fact that ABT's featured repertory cries out for ballerinas and, indeed, for experienced ballerinas. If you are going to organize the Met. season, in particular, around Raymonda, Swan Lake, La Bayadere et. al. you need an array of really commanding dancers to lead those performances -- male and female certainly, but especially female. No matter how many male solos you add or how many male roles you expand, these ballets are, in dance terms (though not always in narrative terms) ballerina-centric. Swan Lake can rise to greatness on the basis of a great Odette/Odile as long as the Siegfried knows what he is doing...It cannot rise to greatness on the basis of a great Siegfried...

I am genuinely baffled by the casting, or lack thereof, of Part and Meunier. I admit that, as far as Part is concerned, I am writing more on the basis of her reputation than anything else since my memories of her are few and vague (though lovely). But just a few years ago I saw Meunier dance a splendid Odette/Odile at NYCB. I also saw Part and Meunier dancing solo roles in Bayadere at ABT in the spring, and neither dancer looked out of shape or technically 'off'...They are both tall and expansive, and it may be difficult finding them partners, but surely not impossible...It's not as if ballerinas are thick on the ground at ABT -- that's the whole point of this thread; it's not as if there aren't principal parts to which they would be suited (Meunier in Ballet Imperial seems plausible...Part as Medora in Corsaire...either Meunier or Part in Swan Lake and/or possibly Raymonda); and, to approach things more cynically, it's also not as if one couldn't come up with a P.R. campaign about either of them -- I can imagine several stories that one could pitch to newspapers for features etc.

I am not, as it happens, writing as a particular fan of these two dancers -- I haven't seen them enough to be that sort of fan, though I have admired Meunier's Odette/Odile and I have also enjoyed her performances in several Balanchine roles and I vaguely remember Part as someone I wanted to see more of... The reason I have decided to join the chorus on these two dancers is that they are not two inexperienced, youngsters who have yet to prove themselves in the big time. On the contrary, both have quite a bit of experience with major roles in major companies, and, had their careers gone a little differently, both might be arriving at their 'peak' right now, rather than filling out smaller roles --

Obviously ABT's management knows things I don't. In any case, I understand that both dancers need time to adapt to their new artistic home. But it's my belief (and obviously, from what has been said above, not just my belief!) that they are artistically mature enough and talented enough that they should be doing some of that adapting in the context of genuine ballerina roles. Given the paucity of ballerinas at ABT it seems self-defeating of the company not to let them at least try.

Michael -- thanks for the clarification -- though, if that's so, it makes ABT's attitude even more puzzling...

Bingham -- many, if not most, posters to this board love ABT -- no quotation marks necessary! -- but I think a lot of people are kind of floored by this policy. It doesn't help that Alonso herself is one of the icons of ABT's history...

I just wanted to post my very strong agreement with some statements made upthread by Mel Johnson and GWTW. First, I think Mel Johnson's suggestion that a carefully worded statement -- that's what they pay lawyers for -- specifically indicating why, in this particular case, the company would be willing to accept another company's performance and emphasizing Alonso's connection to ABT -- would have been a nice solution. Though I bet Mel is also right that their legal department told them (or would have told them) not to do it.

I do think that the general public often likes to see a range of repertory and is not as concerned with comparing and contrasting performances as your average poster to "ballet talk." ABT has a right to be concerned with these issues in general. I do think, for example, that it was a kick in the teeth for ABT when NYCB started dancing Fancy Free at a time when ABT was performing it regularly and very well; of course, Robbins had the right to make that decision...it was HIS ballet, but it certainly didn't help ABT's cause. I also remember one season when the Metropolitan imported the Kirov's Sleeping Beauty right on the heels of ABT's production. That may have been a ballet fan's dream but (in my opinion) ABT had something of a legitimate gripe with the programmers at the Met. who were responsible for presenting BOTH companies, and I heard rumors at the time that the company felt that their ticket sales were hurt, not helped, by the conjunction. I have to add, though, that the Cubans are dancing at City Center and City Center now draws on a different audience than Lincoln Center -- especially the Met. (I know NYCB and New York City Opera have a history at City Center...the audiences are still, partly, different audiences.)

However, even if I accept that there are legitimate concerns about how to preserve and market the company's repertory and distinctive profile, I do not understand the decision to make Les Sylphides the ballet on which to spend the company's money and make a stand...For one thing, like GWTW, I think the money would be much better spent on getting the best coaching for their dancers in the ballet (oh...say...someone as good as Alonso...). But, in any case, Les Sylphides has long been one of the most frequently performed ballets throughout the world -- I first saw it with students! -- and it has been a long, long time since it could remotely be considered an ABT signature piece. It's also one of the great classics of the ballet repertory, so that treating it like some sort of specialty work does it (and ballet itself) a disservice...

One might counter, considering the situation in the abstract, that some sort of limitation on performances helps with quality control. (In this particular case, of course, that would not be an issue...one thing that probably irritates a lot of fans is, indeed, the suspicion that the Cubans might well give a deeper, richer, more thoughtful account of the ballet than ABT.) Certainly 'quality control' is what the Balanchine trust is, presently, trying to achieve...One interesting question to consider is how fans would feel if Alonso wanted to stage Theme and Variations in 'her' version and the trust said "No"? Of course, something like that is happening at the Paris Opera Ballet with Symphony in C/Palais de Crystal...and fans are not altogether happy about it. However, my mind keeps returning to the fact that we are discussing Les Sylphides -- it's been danced by, let's say, dozens of companies professional and amateur. As far as quality control is concerned, that can hardly be what the Fokine trust or family (or whatever it is) is really concerned with...This seems to be an economic and legal transaction plain and simple. (For myself, by far and away the best performances of the ballet I have ever seen have been with the Kirov NOT ABT.)

In a way, I hate to see ABT take such a hit publicity-wise (at least among fans), but I also feel they deserve it.

I saw her with the Royal Ballet, dancing Kitri in Don Quixote about two years ago -- the Basilio was Carlos Acosta. Nunez had not been cast for this run of performances originally, so I don't know how much preparation she had, but I liked her performance very much. She looked like a real ballerina in the making and had a rather luscious quality besides. At one point in Act II, her use of her upper body -- a really poised epaulement giving her a very three-dimensional, womanly quality -- specifically made me think she would be a lovely Raymonda, so I'm interested to learn that she had performed Raymonda (or, I assume, Raymonda excerpts) when very young. The Don Quixote was still not a fully 'finished' performance, but I would be happy to see more of her...

I read reviews of the Makarova Sleeping Beauty in which Nunez danced the Lilac Fairy and they praised her performance, but they were mostly concerned with the production. I believe she also danced Aurora, but never read anything about that. (If you check older threads on the Royal Ballet, you will see some mention of her dancing as well.) I actually first heard about her on this board when some students from the Royal Ballet school mentioned her dancing. That may have been before she was even officially in the company.

It might be useful to think of Fokine's work as post-Petipa rather than pre-Balanchine...

Having said that, I should warn you that I'm not a historian, only a fan...but an opinionated one, so here are some further thoughts.

As I understand it, Fokine was aiming at a tighter, more coherent dramatic consistency within each ballet than he found in much of the previous generation's work...Theoretically it should be impossible to transfer a Fokine variation from one Fokine work to another (imagine a solo from Les Sylphides in the middle of Scheherezade). With all due respect to the unified architecture of a work like The Sleeping Beauty or the vision scene in Bayadere one can (and, historically, producers have) moved variations from one Petipa work to another, particularly some of his lesser works.

The unity of effect aimed at by Fokine involves the crystallisation of and commentary on a particular look or ideal -- say, the romantic ballet in Les Sylphides -- but it also involves the fusion of music and dance with sets and costumes. The ideal was not just a unity of vision but a totality of vision. New York City Ballet tried Les Sylphides without sets and costumes and the consensus was not that it looked more modern or less prim, but that it just looked wrong.

Fokine also wanted effects that we now might associate with character dancing or, more trivially, with a certain exoticism to be more authentic and more organically joined to the dramatic totality of the ballet. "Oriental" dancing wasn't supposed to just mean a few veils or turbans on top of classical steps and point shoes...Again, I would be wary of caricaturing the Petipa heritage, but the exoticism of a ballet like Scheherezade or even the pretend Russian fairy tale of Firebird -- an exoticism that may seem rather old-fashioned to a twenty-first century eye -- was trying to show a genuine kinetic connection to its sources. In all candor, the one time I saw Scheherezade, I thought it looked surprisingly classical and Petipa-esque, but I don't think it would have seemed that way to me in 1910! (It might help to think of modern painters' interest in, say, African masks...to us it may now seem like surface appropriation of effects that have been completely decontextualized, but it also enabled a certain type of experimentation within the heritage of western painting.)

At the risk of splitting hairs -- well, actually I like to split hairs -- I would make a distinction between someone approaching a role the wrong way, misunderstanding (or having been misdirected in) the choreography, or even giving a less than ideal performance and someone genuinely "miscast" especially being so miscast as to justify the moniker "casting from hell." Reading over parts of this thread, I don't think that distinction is always being made.

For me, genuine miscasting means someone whose gifts, whose "emploi," whose body/temperament/musicality are so out of line with the choreography that however well they dance and however well-prepared they are, their performance cannot look the way it's supposed to look or have the appropriate impact. It's the sort of bad performance where you don't find yourself criticizing the dancer -- but the director who put him or her in that position. For me, Herrera as the Siren in Prodigal Son is an example of that kind of miscasting.

As already mentioned in regard to Balanchine, one makes some allowance, too, for a director who is trying to push or develop a dancer -- or, for that matter, experimenting deliberately on the ballet itself by casting 'against' type. Balanchine often did that, especially the former, and with a dancer as good as Merrill Ashley, the results were never actually poor or embarassing (in my opinion). I thought she was miscast in Emeralds -- but I wasn't cringing, and there were even elements of the performance I enjoyed. Kyra Nichols in Chaconne was the quite rare case of an excellent dancer, dancing extremely skillfully, who seemed to me so out of touch with the 'tone' of the ballerina role that I actually preferred the ballet in the hands of the much lesser dancer Margaret Tracy (though I wasn't crazy about her in the part either).

Sometimes dancers can overcome miscasting, especially with good coaching or repeated performances, but it rarely leads to an ideal performance. Still, in speaking of "casting from hell," one is really thinking of cases where they cannot, i.e. where the casting in itself is a fundamental problem.

I saw Bussell as Aurora in D.C. -- dancing Dowell's production the week of its premier. When she made her entrance, coming down the stairs and then turned to the audience with a radiant smile, I thought the whole theater filled with light. As for her dancing, it was just lovely -- assured with a kind of soft burnish. I especially noticed how she modulated and direrected her 'contemporary' qualities to fit the Petipa/Tchaikovsky vision. One could still enjoy the super flexible back and high extensions, but they weren't pulled out on every occasion or used exageratedly or counter to the music. In terms of characterization, the different acts were just lightly distinguished, but for my taste it was quite enough. Her sweetness, her classicism, and in the final act, her womanliness all shone through. I thought she was wonderful.

However, I am compelled to admit in deference to Hans that all the American dance critics I read -- about three different reviews -- had a lukewarm (at best) response to the very same performance that I just loved. As you can see, their reviews didn't really influence my opinion though. (I was told that British critics at the same performance liked it, but I never read those reviews for myself.) If I ever had the opportunity to see Bussell in the role again, I would absolutely not miss it...

Edited to add: Dale, I think we posted at the same time; anyway, as per above, I entirely agree!

By the by, in Ashton's Cinderella which is clearly a commentary/reflection on Petipa's Sleeping Beauty, she is also just wonderful -- touching and breathtaking all at once.

Here's the post:

I hope my topic title isn't too cutesy -- but I came back a few hours ago from seeing the Ballet Nacional de Cuba at the Ferst Theater on the Georgia Tech campus in Atlanta and the single most notable thing about the program was its expression of faith in ballet or, to be as unambiguous as possible, in classical ballet.

The evening was a series of excerpts from the classics, very similar to a program described on another thread about one of the company's touring performances. While programs of snippets can often be a bore -- even with fabulous dancers -- this one was so thoughtfully put together and engagingly danced that it was entertaining all around and, occasionally, better than that.

The theater seats about 1100 and was 3/4 full; the curtain was early (5 p.m.). I mention this, because there were quite a few children, including very young children, and I didn't hear a peep from any of them except during intermission. I would like to present this as evidence that uncorrupted minds like their classical dancing straight up, but probably some luck was involved as well. The audience was altogether very enthusiastic which I also mention in service to the same polemic -- classical ballet has plenty of popular appeal.

Through some sort of goof, the program didn't include an insert indicating which dancers would be appearing in the different ballets. A helpful and sympathetic usher found someone from the company who got me a copy of the insert that presumably was supposed to be included with the programs. Since I am completely unfamiliar with the dancers, I am assuming that these listings were the right ones for this performance -- but I am open to corrections.

Anyway, the evening began with excerpts from Act II of Giselle -- Hilarion's death and some of the initial pas de deux/dancing of Giselle and Albrecht for the wilis -- , and I thought immediately that the corps still has the unity of style and impecabbly drilled quality I remember from the mid-eighties (also the rather noisy point shoes). I knew at least one person who, in the eighties, found them overly drilled, but I quite admire them. This evening, I especially admired the fact that, although they were giving a one time only performance in a theater where they were dancing for the first time and where the stage was certainly a little small for them, they nonetheless adapted themselves to the stage space pretty effectively.

The male soloists (Hilarion and Albrecht) in the Giselle excerpt seemed undistinguished to me, but the ballerina, Barabara Garcia, was lovely and -- another keynote of the evening, no matter what the quality of the dancers -- appeared to have been very carefully prepared. She knew what the choreography was supposed to look like and that, unsurprisingly, makes a huge difference.

The company then danced excerpts from Sleeping Beauty -- the polonaise from Act III followed by the grand pas de deux. I am absolutely convinced that one reason the 'highlights' mode didn't bore me, as it usually does even when I am seeing, say, the Bolshoi, is that each of the pas de deux was somehow contextualized. More than that, often contextualized by traditional character dancing. It's a little ironic, since (on the whole) I didn't find the dancers very effective in their character dancing, but the decision to include it so prominently still seemed to make for a better "program" and to be another testament to the company's artistic faith in the classical ballet tradition. I say this despite the fact that the Polonaise was, perhaps, the one thing all evening that was really below par -- as if the dancers had never seen a polonaise and were too egalitarian to enter into the fantasy of aristocracy. It didn't help that the costumes and wigs werer fairly dreadful.

The pas de deux was decently danced with fish dives done as I have never seen them, with the ballerina's head directed right AT the floor. The audience loved this, but it was a little over the top (or torwards the bottom) for my taste -- the traditional 'fish' pose they did at the very end was, in my opinion, much better. While these were not the strongest of the evening's soloists I liked the prince, Oscar Torrado, very much. Partly because his looks reminded me of a slightly more macho Hank Azaria, but mostly because his movements really flowed -- he didn't just, say, jump-jump-turn-transition step etc. -- he really seemed to dance through the steps. When he appeared in a contemporary classical piece at the end of the evening, I thought the same thing.

The conclusion of the first half was the waltz of the flowers from The Nutcracker, wonderfully danced by corps and soloists -- despite the corps dancers having to carry extremely tatty looking garlands for the first few minutes -- and the pas de deux, wonderfully danced by Anette Delgado and Romel Frometa. Actually when they first came on, I thought they were the least prepossessing looking of the leads I had seen. Both seemed short and, in her case, with proportionally short legs, but the moment they began to move, they became my favorites. She may not be elongated but she moves 'elongated' -- with tremendous stretch in everything she does. And although all of the dancing this evening was performed to taped music, these two dancers somehow managed to look musical, even as if they were responding spontaneously to what they were hearing. They also had the best timed partnering of the first half of the evening. In her solo, she had a series of crisply articulated pas de chat that later caused me to remember that Balanchine had created the first version of Theme and Variations for Alonso. She was also the one dancer in the first half of the evening with silent point shoes. The leads did lose a bit of steam towards the end, but by that time I was too pleased to care. The audience by the way cheered the walts of the flowers as well as the pas de deux.

The second half began with excerpts from Coppelia. First the mazurka -- certainly the best of the character dancing the company offered and, obviously, as well-drilled as their classical dancing... but I can't think character dancing is their forte. The pas de deux from Act III was danced by Hayna Gutierrez (another short legged ballerina, at least by 'international' standards) and Octavio Martin. They both mugged hugely throughout. Just a bit less might have been charming. As it was they put such energy into their presentation that it didn't irritate me as much as it might have. He's big with striking cheekbones, but was in some ways the least impressive technically of the men I saw all evening; he danced, just the same, as if he was a superstar and I actually found this rather effective. She did not appeal to me and yet likewise somewhat won me over (as they all did) with the sheer solidity of her dancing and energy of her presentation. And she was stuck, throughout, with a particularly unflattering tutu...

This was followed by excerpts from Don Quixote. An Espada/Mercedes sequence that fell flat for reasons I couldn't quite determine. The choreography seemed designed to show off the men in big classical poses and jumps and though their lines were not always purely classical (hardly urgent in this section of Don Quixote), they danced rather well and yet somehow didn't have as much impact as one kept thinking they would. The Espada, Jaime Diaz, did have a wonderful arch in his back and the Mercedes (who had to perform her knife dance with the knives simply laid out flat on the floor -- sort of a metaphor for what was going wrong with the whole thing) didn't make much impact either...That said, I thought the dancer who performed Mercedes, Liuva Horta, actually looked rather promising. I'd like to see her in another role in other circumstances.

The Act III pas de deux was impressively danced by Viengsay Valdes and Joel Carreno, and the audience gave this a standing ovation. She is yet another short legged ballerina and like all of them -- but more than all of them -- dances with a great deal of verve and daring. Her balances were superb, the lifts with Carenno (who was the shortest male principal we saw all evening) seemed perfectly timed. She begain her fouettes with eight doubles, but these travelled a bit to the side; she changed to singles at a very marked change in the music -- a controlled effect I liked -- and managed to keep the remaining turns under control (the audience was roaring, but to my eyes this did not have the easy control of great bravura dancing) -- She did, however, dance her first big solos with elan and dashing footwork...This was short of the really great Don Q. pas de deux I've seen, but it was very, very good. Carenno was by far and away the most classically precise of the male dancers all evening, and also had some real bravura technique. Because of his finess, he was my favorite of the men , but I didn't get as much a sense of his personality. (He looks young, but I'm always bad at judging age.)

This was followed by excerpts from Swan Lake -- and again the audience was almost as receptive to the corps as to the principals. They danced the Waltz from Act II, and as in the Nutcracker excerpt the soloists (the two swans) were noticeably fine and, quite simply, seemed polished and well-prepared. I found the Prince's old fashion puff sleeve costume and, worse, the costume's bright turquoise color, distracting...the ballerina (actually a soloist in the company), Sadaise Arencibia, seems to have been cast for her long legs and high extensions, but, that said, I was again struck by the fact that she appeared, at least to my lay eyes, to have been very well prepared and to have a real sense of what she was doing...

The finale was an excerpt from an ensemble ballet choreographed by Alonso, Gottschalk Symphony. I anticipated a contemporary pop ballet, designed to let the dancers cut loose, not worry about fifth position, and make the audience happy. But of course, the audience was already happy, and lo and behold, although Gottschalk Symphony is hardly a distinguished piece of choreography, it is based on the classical vocabulary...I'll call it a neo-classical ballet, though a very slight one. This did involve eight soloists and a big ensemble and for the first time I felt the dancers couldn't manage the stage space -- at times, what should have been a series of flashy male jumps appeared to stop short while soloists hurried into the wings and when the full ensemble appeared the stage just looked crowded. So the evening ended a little flat -- but still true to its emphasis on classical ballet -- and the company received a very warm final ovation.

Other general impressions...Except for Carreno, even the best of the men appeared a little unpolished. I am not so much thinking of their landings from jumps -- that is, yes their landings were a little unpolished, but not egregiously and the dancers are obviously working with a genuinely classical standard of correctness -- but especially when the men are in the air the lines or positions can seem a little off or at least a little not what I am used to. I would need to see the company more to have a better feel for this. Only a few of the principal men or women seemed to have beautiful feet or use them consistently, and several of the women (especially the smaller stockier soloists) seemed to have less turn out or use their turn out less consistently than I'm used to as well. They all dance with pasted on grins that only avoided becoming irritating because the dancers were genuinely dancing with energy and intensity. That is, they were genuinley dancing.

The women soloists all seemed to have very strong quick legs, and their look -- even the look of their more long legged dancers like Arencibia -- is entirely different from the stretched out, at times hyper-extended look of today's 'international' ballerina...Men and women alike all present themselves with great attention to the upper body.

Backdrops and costumes ranged from mediocre to embarassing; I'm guessing the company lacks for funds and/or doesn't bring some of their better sets on a tour like this one. I'm also guessing that New York, which will see 'real' repertory, will see more depth from the company -- obviously a real repertory season will give the company a better chance to show its artistic range, its profile if you will. I am very much looking forward to reports on those performances. However, as anyone who has read this far can guess, I had a very good time this evening...

I saw this when it was first done and loved it and have long wondered why no ballet company tried to revive it. I wish I could remember details -- I will say that it was choreographed at a later stage of Dowell's career and I remember (based largely on my knowledge of an earlier Ashton/Dowell collaboration -- Oberon in the Dream) -- that Ashton had somehow found a way to make the older Dowell look like the younger Dowell, dancing like quicksilver but dreamy, poetic and, of course, stylistically very pure. But at the same time, the ballet didn't lose his 'mature' presence. (As you know, the Met. is not an easy theater to fill.) It was a vision of Dowell I hadn't seen at ABT, and I was a huge fan of his ABT career. I was especially impressed with the combination of speed and delicacy...I loved Makarova as well though I don't remember my reaction in as much detail. And at the risk of sounding repetitive I also loved the Hockney sets and costumes for the entire Stravinsky evening. My memory is of deep purple tones, and Dowell carrying a lantern of some sort... but then again please keep in mind that all of the above is based on memory from, well, I guess about twenty years ago...Maybe I wouldn't love any of it now!

Dowell and Makarova are in my dance pantheon and Woetzel and Kent aren't, though Woetzel comes closer and if he really gives his imagination over to the role he may be able to do something with it. And to be fair, the ballerina role, which I vaguely recall as lyrical, may suit Kent very well.

I'll add one story that I heard at the time and found funny, though it's not exactly about the ballet. An acquaintance of mine took a friend to the Stravinsky evening at the Met -- the friend was fairly knowledgeable about ballet, but mostly attended NYCB and did not always follow the latest ballet news. In the middle of Le Rossignol, while Makarova and Dowell were dancing, the friend turned to my acquaintance and whispered: "gee, these dancers are REALLY good for the Metropolitan Opera ballet!" My acquaintance hissed back at him: "That's Anthony Dowell and Natalya Makarova the two greatest dancers in the world..."

Well...NBC's slant...

NBC also had this on the news Sunday evening, but they rather emphasized that the "overweight" issue was a cover for other issues...Specifically citing the theory, seemingly confirmed by Volochkova in an interview -- though the editing made it a bit hard to judge -- that a wealthy "oil-man" ex-boyfriend was exerting pressure on the company in revenge for her having left him. (I assume it's not gossip, or at any rate not forbidden gossip, if it's on the news?) They also claimed that her "injured" ex-partner had been on Russian t.v. dancing and evidently in fine health...

However, the main thing I wanted to say was that I was actually surprized at how many different clips of Volochkova they showed. In some she looked just ravishing, in others a bit off (uncentered or, as best I could judge, with a sickled foot). When the voice over was discussing the weight issue they had a clip, evidently chosen quite deliberately, in which she appeared positively skinny. It looked something like Nikiya's solo at Solor's wedding in Bayadere -- midriff baring costume and all. The report also said that she had been criticized for a larger than life personality and self-promotion and compared her to "J Lo" but included an interview with a Russian dance critic praising her as a rare talent. The anchor had a slight smirk on his face when they cut back to him after the report was over, but I thought that overall the reporter was trying to give the piece a post-Soviet Russian corruption angle though it was clearly still intended as a fluff piece.

I have a question, though, that only indirectly relates to this issue...I have a vague notion that I saw Volochkova with the Kirov some years ago at the Met. in Swan Lake -- a Saturday matinee? Is that possible? I remember a ballerina with very long legs and high extensions. (I didn't particularly care for the performance -- except for Ivanova in the Act I pas de trois, plus a fabulous Spanish dance.) It definitely wasn't Lopatkina as she danced the Saturday evening Swan Lake.

Oh and on the lifting business...Many years ago at an ABT lecture demonstration, two dancers made a point of demonstrating how, ironically enough, a woman who doesn't help her partner at all, but is in effect a dead weight, LOOKS like a feather as he hauls her into the air, whereas if she really helps a lot with a big, big jump she actually looks quite heavy. The dancers suggested that the middle way was best for both partners, but the woman really did look just dreamy when she did nothing...For that reason, I have always believed the Markova story. However, professionals on this board may have other experiences, or other techniques for lifts...

My mom and I were at that Lisner auditorium performance -- Park was wonderful! The company was, I think, called the Metropolitan Ballet and and made up of students not professionals. (Much of Mckerrow's early training was at that school. -- again I'm not quite sure of the name, something like the Metropolitan School of ballet. Alan Woodard and Charles Dickson were the teachers.)

The first Royal Ballet performance I ever saw was La Fille Mal Gardee at the Metropolitan Opera House with Park, Michael Coleman, Stanley Holden, and Alexander Grant. The evening was capped off by Fonteyn and Nureyev in Marguerite and Armand. Though quite young, I was very aware that Fonteyn and Nureyev were supposed to be the evening's big event, but I loved Fille the best! And, with the utmost respect for Fonteyn and Nureyev, I bet if I could see that exact performance today, I still would...

I rather doubt this is just about tight fisted managements and how they time the house lights -- though that may play a part in moderating today's already rather moderate audiences. It's about the lack of stars who are both adored by the balletomanes who fueled these displays and recognized by the general public who sustained them and gave them weight. Admitedly, a public that gets into the habit of such displays for the big stars may well be a little more primed to cheer the non-star casts as well. I saw it happen, but it was something of a trickle down effect...

Additionally, during the ballet boom (late sixties through early eighties, say) there was a larger 'excitement' about dance generally that was generated partly by media (for whom ballet meant, among other things, cold war intrigue) but also by real artistic substance in the form of the twentieth-century masters -- Balanchine, Ashton, and Tudor -- along with a slew of lesser but still historically important figures (Macmillan, Cranko) producing new work. In the absence of the really big stars and the wider artistic context, the habit of wild cheering gets lost, so even the occasional isolated 'great' moment may be received with nothing more than a respectable round of applause. (NYCB audiences have always been, as remarked by E. Johnson, more austere in their cheering habits. The company still helped to create the context in which ballet was a big deal.)

I have sometimes posted to ballettalk to defend the genuine greatness, as I see it, of today's best dancers, but that greatness, even when it recalls the best of decades past still operates in something of a vacuum. Bussell is, in my opinion, a great ballerina -- and is one of the few today who fulfills the criteria I mentioned above of appealing to ballet fans AND the general public, but since Macmillan's death she has had no choreographer to develop her uniqueness and has never had an adequate partner to frame her spacious lines and draw her out dramatically. Comparing Cojocaru and Kobburg to Sibley and Dowell or Fonteyn and Nureyev (as the article does by implication) seems faintly silly to me or, at any rate, premature -- as wonderful as she is Cojocaru is not yet a fully fledged ballerina. I suppose I am beginning to wander off topic, but I do think that when the ballet world as a whole becomes artistically energized and dancers genuinely comparable to a Sibley or a Dowell appear in a context that nurtures and develops them, the audiences will grow and resume the old habits of wild enthusiasm -- theater managements notwithstanding. I am not, of course, holding my breath.

As it happens, I would not particularly want to see the wildly rapturous curtain calls return without such developments in the ballet world. I find ersats enthusiasm depressing. The emotion of those curtain calls in the 'old days' seemed to spill over from the cumulative emotion of the performances that preceded them -- the energy on display from the audience and the artists was not (or not only) a cheesy bit of fun for the fans.

(The author of the article might feel that the situation in opera points to wider cultural currents, but I rather suspect that the situation in opera shares at least some points in common with ballet.)

[Edited a day after posting to adjust grammar.]