Alexandra

Sorry. "Prodigal Son" is already taken -- that (as I'm sure you know) is the title of Edward Villella's autobiography. Perhaps that could be the next Eifman/NYCB ballet, though.

I have no idea whether it's true or not, but it is true that what I put up is in print, in the Dancing Times. Now, if ballet companies had as many press conferences as sports teams, we could ask In the meantime, there's no reason why we can't be imaginative and help Mr. E along. All those wives, all those bits of ballets. . .

In the current Dancing Times, there's the following intriguing little item in their report from Russia column: "New York City Ballet invited Boris Eifman to create a ballet dedicated to the 100th anniversary of George Balanchine's birth." I wondered if anyone would care to speculate on the libretto for said ballet? Or, perhaps, have suggestions of other ballets that might be created for this momentous anniversary? Yo, Manhattnik

Ah, yes. Good point, Victoria. Chock full of ideas it was, too.

Interesting -- and frightening -- comments on opera. I'd be wary of theater directors getting their hands on a ballet. Ballets aren't plays with steps in them, and I think that's how they'd be seen and treated. Since "choreography" includes all the spaces between the steps, and the actual way of moving, it's beyond the expertise of a theater director, unless s/he had ballet training. Danish critics have been advocating this for years, and the Royal Danish Ballet finally tried it, putting one of their best directors, we're told, on "Kermesse in Bruges" and it was an unmitigated disaster -- there was only one positive review, and this was by a critic who was very openly supportive of the project before and during. It just didn't work. He couldn't direct the ballet any more than he could conduct a symphony. It's more than just standing up and waving your arms -- and having a "concept" -- any concept, change the century, make the leading boy really in love with the villain not the heroine, make them all be Hari Krishnas, anything so that someone can say "my my -- he had an idea!" -- beloved of New Thinkers in the last half of the 20th century (and unfortunately, they're still hanging on in the 21st).

Thank you for that, Bard's B -- and very glad to see you! Has your email address changed? I've tried to email you (searching for you) a few times and they bounce back as undeliverable. If it's changed, could you email me with a current one? I hope to be reading you often this season -- there's a lot to see this year.

Welcome, CSloan -- great first post Thank you -- and I hope we'll read more from you.

One of the first posts I read on the net was by Estelle, on alt.arts.ballet, about how difficult it was to interject references to ballet, or dance, into conversations about art, literature and music. This struck a chord -- yes, it is. The condescending attitude towards dance, especially ballet, popped up in an article in the Chicago Tribune this weekend. Any comments? Are we entering the comfort zone? In turbulent times, it may seem logical that arts consumers would seek the familiar, the safe. They are, but the answer is more complicated than that. The mood across the arts spectrum http://www.chicagotribune.com/features/art...isurearts%2Dhed Dance, by definition, is always a comfort art form. As we all know from that song in "A Chorus Line," everything is beautiful at the ballet. And even serious, provocative modern dance is other worldly, an escape of sorts into abstraction. (Sid Smith) Fred Soleri (of Dance Chicago) "I think there is a comfort level with Dance Chicago. People know what they're going to see, and we try not to surprise them too much. We want it to be accessible, and while there is some modern dance, the programming is mostly upbeat," citing jazz, children's dance and the highly entertaining style of the River North Dance Company. "Dance is the ultimate comfort food because in the end, it's always bodies moving through space," Solari adds. "It's not threatening and won't make you uncomfortable, like some serious theater pieces."

Welcome to Ballet Alert!, Isabel. Thank you for resurrecting that thread, and for your very interesting post. I hope Terry sees it! I hope you'll post often. It's good to see another DCer here -- we have a good season coming up.

Thanks very much for posting that, Glebb. I'm looking forward to the company's visit to D.C. They're getting a good reception everywhere, it seems. Wonderful idea about the shoes and T-shirts. I'm sure they'll be much appreciated.

More likely 28 to 32!! (There is a down side to keeping aging stars on to do mime roles, or having The House Character Dancer always at the ready. )

BalletNut -- I think you're absolutely right. Coppelius IS ballet's version of a mad scientist. The ballet was at the very end of the Romantic era (or a few decades past the end, depending on how you count.) Croce wrote a very interesting piece about this, seeing the ballet as a battle between -- I'm paraphrasing -- the male world of things and the female world of...hmm .....humanity? I forget.

Thanks for your review, Paquita -- glad to hear from you again. Please keep us posted on what's going on in Toronto this season. So many of the dancers you wrote about are new to me -- it's wonderful to read about them.

"The days of high modernism, when Pierre Boulez called for opera houses to be burned to the ground, have passed." I found this two-month-old link this morning, and thought it an interesting article -- it's about planning the future of opera. I was struck by how different the approach of the people involved was, how different this article is from what one usually reads about how to insure that ballet has a future. No one suggests standing opera on its ear, kicking its butt right into the 21st century (perhaps they realize they're already there), etc. There's a reference to pushing the boundaries (something that most people would agree is necessary for the future of anything) but no implication that this is the only thing necessary to create art. One point I would disagree with -- but it would make for an interesting discussion -- is the idea that opera could be directed by people who hate it. (The "if you don't like it, change it" theory.) My objection to this is that it invites tinkering by people who don't know what they're doing, by dabbling dilletantes. (Something that does happen in ballet. People who hate pointework, or find it artificial, thinking they should do a nice, new Sleeping Beauty.) Why can't ballet do what opera does? Any thoughts? http://www.guardian.co.uk/edinburghfestiva...,543762,00.html [ November 03, 2001: Message edited by: alexandra ]

What about the question in general, not just as it relates to Mr. Forsythe. Should ballets disappear with their choreographer's death? And, after what's happened to the works of Ashton -- some that he asked not be performed have been -- and Graham -- a whole 'nother can of worms -- CAN a choreographer protect his works after his death, or prevent them from being done? A painter can burn the canvases. A choreographer is dependent on the kindness of strangers. Does Forsythe have the right -- perhaps moral right, if not legal right -- to keep his works from being performed after his death? Do future generations have the right to see his work? There are a lot of interesting issues in this topic. Opinions, please.

Very interesting, Lolly. Please never worry about length here. The ideal length is -- as long as you need to tell the story

Good point, Sonora! Perhaps because the witch characters were often (though not always) danced by men: job security for middle-aged dancers One of the greatest of the Danish Madges, though, Sorella Englund, danced her first Madge at 29, and was a young witch. There's a Danish theory (to which I do not subscribe) that Madge and the Sylph are sisters, and Englund's youth was used by some to make that point.

Yes, Mel! And we mustn't forget that Jean de Brienne is off on the Cr*s*d*s (Another, related query: why is the population of ballet peasant villages 98% in the 17-24 year age bracket? Or, where are the children and adults of both genders?)

The old (David Blair) production of "Giselle" for ABT had a truly harrowing passage where the men, lined up on either side of the stage, clasping buckets of grapes to their bosoms, jumped across, then back again. I have a dim memory that they threw the grape baskets at each other and slapped hands in a high-five when they met mid-stage, but I think that probably really didn't happen In the Bolshoi production that I saw about a decade ago, it still had a pre-glasnost aroma. Hilarion was overdressed and looked as though he earned his keep by squealing on poachers. There, the Duke of Courland spent his days going from village to village, enjoying the free wine tastings and ravaging maidens. In the Danes' production of Coppelila, there's an old woman who vigorously sweeps the stage with a broom. Swanilda is too young to work -- but Franz? He should have a job. We all know what Coppelius does (I have a theory that Coppelius is James grown old, who wandered through Europe and ended up in Hungary where nobody knew him, and has tried to realize his passion for fantasy ladies in a more concrete form.) There's real money in this village, though. The Mayor pays off Coppelius with a bushel of gold at the end. In Don Q there is a tavern scene, complete with Tavern Wenches. And a flotilla of Toreadors -- I guess that's a job. James hunts and owns a farm. Gennaro (Napoli) is a fisherman, with a real catch which he's selling. There are other characters with definable occupations -- backstage lore has it that Giovanna, the Flirt who goes after Gennaro, is the cook for a rich man's house. And then there's the priest, always on the lookout for the odd donation. The dancers in the ballabile, though, look as though they have nothing to do except dance ballabiles and tease Peppo. (There are tourists and townspeople along the side of the stage, eating and drinking at outdoor cafes.) Sleeping Beauty -- the peasants are just brought in to dance and entertain. We can imagine that they spend sun up to sun down toiling in the fields, but it's better not to. Ditto for Swan Lake -- are they invited to Siegfried's birthday party, or do they sneak in? It doesn't seem as though they're there to clean up. Nice topic, Leigh. More socioeconomic observations? [ November 02, 2001: Message edited by: alexandra ]

Leigh, the line you refer to is at the very end of this piece -- I choked several paragraphs earlier, at the claim that "Forsythe is Balanchine's most convincing heir." Not that I'd nominate anyone else for that position, but the relationship between Forsythe, Balanchine and Petipa is that of a rock to a tree -- they're both found in nature. That's it. Since I'm definitely in the camp that Forsythe is "intellectual bubble gum" I won't contest his will But seriously, I think he has a point. Having seen most of the ballets I love destroyed, lost, trashed or distorted beyond recognition after the deaths of their creators, I think he might be speaking in self-defense. It's not that Time Moves On, or that ballet masters are not men of good will and set out to destroy ballets, but that each choreographer worthy of the name has a different style, different way of moving dancers, different way of defining ballet. Forsythe's dancers could not dance Ashton (any more than Cunningham dancers would look good in Taylor, or vice versa). At the Ballet Russe reunion a few summers ago, one of the grand old ballerinas said (I'm told) that she prayed no one would try to revive Massine's work. "Let it die." Of course, I'd love to have a company that treasures works of the past and has the ballet masters who can set them -- the Royal Ballet of Ruritania, in my mythology. But the people who can do this are even more rare than choreographers.

I saw the opening night of Washington Ballet's "Carmen+" program at the Kennedy Center last night. It was a sold out house -- I'm told the run is sold out, except for weekend matinees, which are nearly sold out. If you live in the area and don't have a ticket, I'd recommend this. I've never seen a stronger performance from this company. The difference between the "Agon" program of two years ago and last night was about 10 years! In general, the ballets looked extremely well-rehearsed -- nothing scattershot, and it didn't seem as though all the energy had gone into director Septime Webre's new "Carmen." Each of the three ballets was well-cared for. Another general comment was that even in the Good Old Days, this company, especially in Balanchine, often looked rather dutiful and studentish. There was a school recital atmosphere -- which has now been blasted away. There were students in Four Ts, and I couldn't distinguish them from the company members. The program opened with "The Four Temperaments" which used to look squishy (the last time I saw it danced by WB was about a decade ago). Last night, the ballet's architecture was triumphantly clear. Some of the solos were a bit quirky (Jason Hartley's arms in Melancholic would have been soft for Phlegmatic) but overall, it was a fine performance. Albert Evans (of NYCB) danced Phlegmatic. It was obvious that he was dancing in his native language, and he gave a wonderful performance, but the difference between Evans and the other dancers was not stark. Choo San Goh's "In the Glow of the Night" is one of his strongest works -- and the first Goh the company has danced in several years. More, please. (Fives, Double Contrasts, Birds of Paradise, Variations Serieuses for starters. This company once had a decent repertory.) Here, Brianne Bland was the stand out in the second movement (Day, the blue gypsy movement). This movement looked better than it has in the past. Bland's dancing was very strong and clear -- beautiful turns -- but not overly athletic, and the seven men (led by Runqaio Du) were darned good! Amanda McKerrow danced the Midnight role created on her nearly 20 years ago, when she was a teenager. She was extraordinary then -- and still is. I'd like to say there was more maturity now, but she was so mature as a young girl that there was nothing lacking; she's kept what she had then. The only weak spot for me was Erin Mahoney in the opening movement. This role was made for Julie Miles who had an unusual stage presence -- like a large, softly glowing pearl. The first movement is Dawn (if you haven't guessed, the ballet takes one through the day), and there was nothing tentative or young about Miles's Dawn. She was a passive demon queen, triumphant, as though her daily arrival vanguishes the more temporal Day and Night creatures. Again, the company looked terrific. Septime Webre's "Carmen" is a handsome production -- after Picasso sets in black, white and gray by Holly Highfill helped. I don't think this is destined to become a repertory staple, although I thought it was 100 times better than his "Romeo and Juliet." If you don't worry about what's going on on stage, and what's supposed to be going on, and just watch the dancing, it's pleasant enough. (Carmen is a Girl Who Just Wants to Have Fun, especially with the Toreador. Don Jose doesn't like this and kills her. She seems shocked.) Webre doesn't tell the story, just puts out dances with Spanish touches in them. Michaela (Bland) has been turned into that faux-Romantic character, The Good Girl, who wafts on occasionally to remind Don Jose of...something. Michele Jimenez is a lovely dancer but not an actress, and Webre, again, gives her little to do but developes and turns. She's also not one of nature's Carmens; she's more an ingenue. There was a good character solo for Jason Hartley as the Toreador -- a much more vivid character than poor Don Jose (Jared Nelson; I don't mean to imply that it was his fault that he wasn't a vivid character). Webre used the company well -- there was a nice section for four women (the dancers were Ballet Spaniards, with nothing to do all day but swish their skirts, stamp their feet, and flare their nostrils). The music was a rather watery rendition of bits of Bizet's Carmen suite, with some L'Arlesienne (and perhaps other pieces) woven in. [ November 02, 2001: Message edited by: alexandra ]

Oh, Mel, let's do Nutcracker (if at all) in December

I believe Caroline Cavallo is dancing the Sylph with Lund. Lund was the Boy Most Likely in 1992 (as an aspirant) and was one of the few bright lights of the January 2000 Bournonville Week. His career has been a bit rocky under the various directors in the 1990s. He's not easy to slot. Of the male dancers I've seen (which isn't all of them), he's by far the most classical dancer. He was wonderful as the Jester in Martins' "Swan Lake." He's also a good actor. Lund has a web site -- www.dancer.dk There are a lot of photos there. [ October 31, 2001: Message edited by: alexandra ]

Thanks for posting that, Lara. Our U.K. posters have been silent on this, for the most part -- perhaps because it's been discussed thoroughly elsewhere. Your comments would, nonetheless, be welcome here. There are a few long-time American Royal watchers, too who've yet to chime in on this

I've got a "top this one" story. At Paul Taylor in D.C. last Friday, a tiny tot (no more than 3) with her mother (presumably) and grandmother (presumably) caused a ruckus the likes of which I haven't seen in 25 years of dancegoing. She talked. She squirmed. She jumped up and down. She talked louder. I WANT TO SEE THE BALLERINA. NO MOMMY NO STOP IT STOP IT MAKE HIM STOP IT I DON'T LIKE HIM WHAT'S HE DOING STOP IT STOP IT This was during "The Word," one of Taylor's less sunny pieces. During the intermission, I saw several irate patrons who had had the misfortune to sit behind the child -- who said they couldn't see a thing, in addition to being disturbed by her talking -- go to an usher, who apparently had not realized she was expected to intervene. (A friend who'd turned around and glared more than I had said that the mother had seemed completely oblivious to the child's behavior.) Further during the intermission, the mother and daughter sat on a bench -- apparently determined to go in for the finale. The mother was feeding the child something -- pudding, perhaps? ("Oh, good. More sugar," a friend observed.) We were told several patrons had asked for their money back. The house manager was talking to the mother for a l-o-n-g time. The mother/daughter did not return. The other woman did. I was about three rows in front of them, across an aisle. Several people around me decided that if it happened again, we'd intervene. "If the stewardesses won't do anything, then it's up to the passengers," I said, volunteering to throw a blanket over the mother and drag her up the aisle. The very nice man sitting next to me offered to go for the pudding.