Alexandra

"Swan Lake" was originally in four acts. I doubt that, if this was a rule, anyone in this century heeds it.

I didn't actually see it in Larsen's interpretation either, Drew. It's something I came across in a review of an earlier performance (in the 1960s) where the Danish reviewer mentioned that it seemed a subtle undertone to the character. And of course, it could have all been in the reviewer's mind. What I remember most about Larsen (whom I saw at 70) was how individual he made the conversation. The mime really had the pattern of speech, not just stock gestures. When the boys gang up on him and start to torment him he turns to them -- angry, but too frail to fight, and they all know it -- and mimes, three gestures in quick succession, "why, why, why?" It's a small thing -- many great Danish things are small things -- but it made him so much richer a character than one grand "WHY?" as it's usually done. The other aspect to Coppelius is that he's a loner, he lives alone. (I recently read that the Puritans believed that living alone was dangerous -- to the society, not the individual -- and banned it.) This means that no one knows him. He may go to the inn, but he's not one of the boys. And they can imagine all kinds of terrible things going on inside that house. In Guest's account of the first Coppelia, he mentions Coppelius only in passing, btw. I have a feeling Coppelius has grown into a great role because so many great men have taken the part.

Thanks for that lovely analysis, Drew. I think there's a lot more to Coppelia than pink cotton candy, too. The idea of a man creating life, and creating an ideal that is a doll that he can manipulate seems quite contemporary, too (New divertissement to include A Sheep Called Dolly.) One of the most moving scenes in this ballet I've seen was Fredbjorn Bjornsson as Coppelius, because he really believed he'd done it, finally succeeded, after all these years, and the belief, and the love he had for her, was so intense it made his moment of realization that he had been duped absolutely heartbreaking. One felt he had a total of four minutes of happiness in his entire life.

Guest on the divertissement (1870 production): "The last scene is set in the grounds of the manor. The bell stands in the back of the stage, behind an allegorical car [sic] on which the various playes wo are to take part in the festival are grouped. After the blessing of the bell, the priests are presenting the betrothed couples -- among whom are Swahilda and Frantz, now reconciled--to the lord of the manor, when Coppelius arrives, angrily complaining. Swanilda offers to pay for the damage with her dowry, but the lord of the manor stops her and throws Coppelius a purse. The signal is then given for the festival to begin. The bent figure of Time hands his hour-glass to a young bell-ringer and commands him to animate the players. The divertissement begins: 1. Valse des heures. The Hours of Morning. 2. L'Aurore. Dawn appears surrounded by flowers, and the Hours of Morning dance round her. 3. La Prere. Prayer blesses the new day and rises into the heavens. 4. La Travail (La Fileuse). At the command of the bell-ringer, the Hours of Morning and Dawn give place to the Hours of Day. It is the time for work: a spinner and harvest-women begin their tasks. 5. L'Hymen (Noce Villageoise). The procession of Hymen bearing her torch approaches. Accompanied by Cupid, she presides at a village wedding. 6. La Discorde et la Guerre. This happy scene is followed by the appearance of Discord, bringing in her wake War. Arms are unsheathed, and a fiery glow lights the darkened sky. 7. La Paix. Peace appears, carrying an olive branch. All is calmed. Danse de fete, pas seul by Bozzacchi (Swanilda, and more about her later) 8. Galop Final. The Hours of Evening and of Night, and two follies appear, leading the procession of Pleasure (Bozzacchi). The final ballabile is danced by the whole company." "The divertissement in the last scene, which was first to be shortened [the opening night audience thought there was too much dancing, and the evening too long, and trickled out during the divertissement] and later, in 1872, omitted altogether, was planned on a large scale and included, as well as thea ction, groups performed by children: sleeping peasants, praying peasants, harvesters and hay-makers, a nocturnal procession, and peasants being attacked by soldiers." [nice touch, that last one] The whole ballet cost 37,600 francs, btw.

Guest never says all that much about the choreography. About the character dancing, he gives only this story: (Ivor Guest, "The Ballet of the Second Empire, 1858-1870) "Saint-Leon's skill at adapting national dances and weaving them into his ballets was turned to good account in the czardas in Act I, which repeated the success he had obtained with the hongroise in Nemea. He had hoped to infuse some authentic Hungarian fire into this dance, and had written to Nuitter [his librettist] in September 1869: "One of these days you will receive a card of mine which will be brought to you by one named Bekefy, a dancer of Hungarian and Slav pas -- in whort, of pas de genre. He is not a bad mime, and is gay enough in comic things. There is a shortage of men in the ballet personnel; perhaps use could be made of him. If he comes, please speak to M. Perrin abouthim. I do not think he will ask for much, and he has chic, which our own Zephyrs have not, in pas slaves....I was forgetting--as danseur noble, not strong.' Bekefy was not engaged, but the czardas was received none the less warmly. It was danced, wrote Gautier, "with a verve and energy that reminded us of the great evenings in St. Petersburg. . . .An unusual success for a pas d'ensemble."

Thanks for that! You read the most interesting things, Ken.

Thanks very much for getting the ball rolling, Terry. From reading the press releases before the season opened, it looked as though there was an awful lot of emphasis on design and magic -- which would be great, if it all comes together. I'm curious if there were a lot of children there -- ABT has been billing this as a family production -- and, if so, if you could tell any reactions? (Sometimes children are bored to tears at "children's ballets." The last time the Royal came to DC they brought a double bill of "The Dream" and "Beatrix Potter." The kid in back of me finally stopped kicking the back of my seat two minutes into Beatrix; fast asleep )

I think so, Mary. It's online, though. There's a link to it in today's Links. On abstraction vs. representation, though, I was interested in what people think in this of an issue. Is abstraction "better" than representation, generally speaking? Has art "progressed" from representation to abstraction? (I think that's how Acocella meant it.)

Reviews are out. I want to know whether or not you liked this extravaganza

Another issue from Joan Acocella's review of the new Robbins biography. In her summation of his career, she writes: "So every year or so in the forties and fifties he would go back "home," first to Ballet Theatre, then to New York City Ballet (he moved there in 1948), and make something in the classical idiom: "Facsimile" (1946), "Age of Anxiety" (1950; based on the Auden poem), "The Cage" (1951), "Afternoon of a Faun" (1953), "The Concert" (1956). At this time there was serious question as to whether ballet could ever be an American art. People still thought it was Russian or French—in any case, old and snooty, unfit for a young democracy—and the ballets of George Balanchine, the man who finally did make ballet an American art, were on the whole so radical that the public took a while to get the point. Robbins stepped in. His ballets told stories ("The Cage"); they cracked jokes ("The Concert"); they were topical ("Age of Anxiety"); they were about young people and sex ("Facsimile"). Again and again, they seemed to say that ballet could be down-to-earth, ours." This certainly was an issue in the 1940s and 1950s. John Martin, and others, regularly wrote that Balanchine should go back to Europe where they belonged. (We're usually such a generous nation....) I think there's still a remnant of this, which is why so many we read so often about choreographers who "stand classicism on its head" -- on its ear, on its whatever -- with so much glee. There are still people who would like ballet to "go back to Europe where it belongs." Not sure it would be welcome everywhere in Europe either, but that's another story. Can ballet be American?

I was struck by one of the themes in Joan Acocella's (excellent, I thought) review of the new Robbins biography -- the assumption that abstraction is superior to representation in dance. Here are a few quotes: [Robbins] seems also to have grieved over being narrative and psychological, over having the common touch, being a popular artist, a Broadway man. These traits were absolutely natural to him, and he despised them, and favored abstraction, which was not natural to him. So he made something in between. and For several years, no doubt in emulation of Balanchine, he had been toying with abstraction. Now, in "Dances at a Gathering," he wedded abstraction to the upbeat temper of his musical-comedy work and produced a long, expansive ballet in which ten young people just danced for an hour to Chopin piano pieces. Robbins's abstraction never went as far as Balanchine's. In Balanchine, dance is metaphor; in Robbins, it is still representation. (Though "Dances at a Gathering" has no story, there are little skits and character studies tucked into it.) I wondered if you agreed or disagreed -- both with the larger issue and with how Robbins fits into this question. I remember a few years ago, at the Ashton conference, one younger critic asked the older ones, on a panel, something to the effect of: "So, when did you finally realize that abstract ballets were superior to story ballets?" This did not go down well (at least, not afterwards). Given that there can be bad abstract ballets and good storytelling ones, and, as always, what matters is "good" and "bad," I wondered what people here think about this question in general?

Jane, you're right about Swanhilda But Franz does take that beautiful butterfly and stick a pin right through it -- and thinks she'll like it Balarina, turning a ballet hero into a con or a cad is certainly well within the tradition How was Swanhilda played? Sweet girl, naughty girl, smart girl, or what?

atm, good point! I'm not sorry to have a ballet hero who's dumb enough to fall for a doll Whenever I read an article about there not being any role models for little girls in "traditional" art and literature, I always think of "Coppelia." I'd take the whole first grade

Thanks for that story, atm. My point was merely that the statement attributed to her in Lawrence's book, according to the first post on this thread, does not comport with dozens and dozens of other dancers' statements, as well as stories from people I know who spoke with Balanchine, or saw him at the school, etc. Also, if Balanchine had hated the school, he would have changed it. He certainly had the power to do that. One of the problems with the New Biography, is that people are plunking down every quote they have, especially anything remotely provocative, without putting it into context. It's the National Enquirer influence, I suppose. The problem is that people believe what they read -- why shouldn't we? aren't publishers supposed to be responsible and not let anything in to print that isn't true? -- and so a quote like this one will be taken as "truth" by a lot of people. I'm not saying Curley didn't believe it, but when you have a comment that's 360 degrees opposite from what everyone else says, I think you have an obligation to investigate it, surely -- and you may well have discovered something that IS true. But if it can't be supported by any other experiences or evidence, I think it's questionable to use it, and if it is used for the irresistible shock value, then it should be footnoted and put into context. (Which, of course, it may well have been. I haven't seen the book yet, and was responding to the post.)

Yes, I know. I've seen it many times I'm sorry. I wasn't clear. My point was that there weren't men in the original.

Great question. It may be hard to tell if the second acts were really shorter, since so much has been cut (I got my "Opera and Ballet in the Time of Giselle" back and am reading what was done to "Giselle," step by step and blow by blow; great book). However, I did read once -- before I started writing, and hence, was just reading for pleasure, so I can't source it -- that there was an ancient rule dividing comedy and tragedy: tragedies had to be have an even number of acts (2, 4), while comedies had to have an odd number (1, 3, 5). This is why "Sleeping Beauty" has a Prologue and three acts, instead of four acts (cheating is, as always, allowed). Has anyone else read that, or anything like it?

Thanks, Doug! I think the original excuse for Coppelia's Act III divertissement was the blessing of a bell -- a lovely idea. The dances represented the different reasons the bell tolled -- Dawn, Prayer, War and Discord, etc. It was the town clock, set the rhythms for people's lives. I think it was dropped in Paris because (like some other Saint Leon ballets) the tastes of the time were not for dancing. Since it was the End of the Era, at a time when classical dancing was not at its best, it may have been possible that there weren't enough good dancers to carry out a full divertissement? But that's pure speculation Today, most of the divertissements I've seen are only Dawn and Prayer, cheating us of the rest. I believe Balanchine's version does the full suite (and brings in a solo for Franz from "Sylvia") but one thing he does that's also a 20th century attitude is to use any full-bodied, strong music for men. War and Discord was for women (everything in that ballet, except Coppelius and the Mayor, was for women). And taking strong music away from women and leaving them with the lyrical and beautiful dilutes the divertissement -- and our ideas about men and women and what's appropriate for each.

I'd agree with Rick that "Perhaps music choices depend on how accomplished or skilled the artist using it is." I'd also agree with Leigh that it's a good idea for those under Balanchine-Taylor level to avoid easy choices Remember Pachelbel's "Canon in D?" Maybe this is just a D.C. story -- it was used in the "To Fly" exhibit at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum and became hugely popular. One classical music store (there were such things in the 1980s) actually had a big sign that said, "Yes, this is the one you thrilled to at the Air and Space Museum." Everybody choreographed it. Everybody. Greg Reynolds actually choregraphed it TWICE and did both pieces on the same program. (One, which I will never forget, was "The Passion According to Mary" where Greg danced the role of Mary. It was not unforgettable for good reasons ) It was done so much, it became a local joke. Which doesn't mean that someone couldn't make a great ballet to that "Canon." I think choreographers made a beeline for Part, Gorecki and Glass because they're danceable and for such a long time, serious music, concert music, had lost its dance impulse. More composers, please Or, as Leigh suggests, "You have a duty to look beyond the top shelf of the CD rack." There is new music being written, and there are music companies that specialize in it. One of the pleasures of ballet was that one could hear new music -- over and over, because of repertory repetitions, not just once at a "New Now" concert.

Thanks, Marty, although no apologies are necessary and I didn't make my post to chide It's just that there are people with a wide range of backgrounds and knowledge of ballet who read these boards, and sometimes we feel it's worthwhile to clarify things for that broad audience.

Many newspapers in the past few years have cut down their coverage of smaller companies considerably -- their reader surveys show that there is virtually no interest. I don't know if this policy is still in effect, but a few years ago, the L.A. Times stopped covering anything that was there for only one or two nights. This nearly eradicated coverage of local modern dance companies, and probably smaller ballet companies as well. The logic is that by the time the review is printed, the company will be gone, so there's no point in a review (which, IMO, ignores one of the great responsibilities of a newspaper, i.e., to chronicle the artistic life of the community it serves). Yet they'll turn around and say they aren't in the business of being a booster and selling tickets -- which, I think, contradicts that logic. Another problem shared by the L.A.Times and Washington Post (which I know a bit more about as I've written for them for more than 20 years) is that they see themselves as national and not local newspapers, and therefore have more stringent standards for what is reviewed. What was once called a "civic" company, or a paraprofessional (half student, half professional) company will not be reviewed. The question is, "is this worth our attention" -- it's the same question a nightly newscast editor might ask. If it's of interest to the local community only, it won't make the cut. While in a smaller city, a small company may get coverage because it's of civic interest -- everybody's kids dance in it -- and so a tour to anywhere out of town is Big News, that's not the case in larger cities. It's a problem. But the only way things are going to change is if readers WRITE THE NEWSPAPERS AND TELL THEM THEY WANT TO READ ABOUT DANCE!!!!! Be specific. Complain. "So and so was not covered." "Why did you cover only opening night and none of the cast changes?" "Why didn't you write about Our Local Ballet Company's First Trip Abroad?" Call. Call the newspaper and ask for the Style or Calendar or whatever section the arts coverage is in. You'll get a copy aid whose job includes handling phone calls. (Or call the critic him or herself; they'll transfer you to that line.) I think talking to the phone answerer may be better, because often the critic wants to cover the event, but isn't given the space. Write letters, not to The Editor, but the editor of Style, Calendar, etc. Then it's in writing. Try to get your friends to do it too -- everyone in your studio, or your child's school. With all respect to Frederick Douglas, who gave this advice in a far different cause, "Agitate, agitate, agitate!"

You might also try www.balletcompanies.com They list ballet (and other kinds of dance) companies by country.

A couple of comments on Fonteyn. First, she was a prima ballerina long before the partnership with Nureyev, and secondly, I think dancers recognize when there's a Queen or a King around. There will be grumbling, of course -- dancers live in a perpetual state of scarcity (roles) -- but I've also heard too many dancers say that it was an honor to be in the theater when this or that dancer was around, and that they all were better for the inspiration, that a great dancer made them better. I think there are more problems when there are a lot of good dancers and a lack of great ones; then it's too easy to think "what's he got that I haven't got?" (There are some people who will think that no matter who is the competition, but when there's a great star around, they'll get whacked for saying it out loud ) We have mentioned dancers on this thread, but I think Rick's intention was to shine a spotlight on important women who WERE NOT dancers, but important to ballet in other ways (choreographerss, company directors).

Either people are being unusually shy, or no one who posts here went, I'm afraid. (Please feel free to prove me wrong ) Clive Barnes and Anna Kisselgoff both reviewed "Don Juan" (see the Links thread). I have hopes the Wall Street Journal will have something on this, but if it does, unfortunately it will be available on line only to subscribers.

Thanks very much for being brave, and getting your feet wet, as it were, in the muddy waters of writing about dance performances And thanks for writing in such detail -- I'm sure many will enjoy reading it. It is dispiriting to hear continual reports of empty seats, especially when, in general, it seems that the company is dancing on a high this season.

Well, unless "George" had a double, it isn't true that he "wouldn't go there." There are an awful lot of stories by other dancers that are in conflict with that view. Perhaps Ms. Curley wasn't wild about the school, or maybe she caught Mr. B on a bad day I'm also curious about marty's report that Robbins is portrayed as a man who "appears to have been the only person on earth to awe Balanchine."