Alexandra

It is good news, Jane. Thanks for posting it. I loved her Juliet in the Ashton version. She's one of the most musical ballerinas I've ever seen.

Hmmm. I wonder what "stock" they're selling off over there Hope those "scrapbooks" are still around when you get there. Thanks for the report, JaneLondon.

Yes, we are *very* interested, Andrei. Please sleep quickly (but soundly, soundly )

Interesting that the Russian criticisms of "Manon" are exactly what the American and British criticisms were.

Thank you for the explanation of "Balanchine linoleum." I had no idea it should be taken so literally (I don't think Balanchine can really be blamed for the marly floor, though.)

I think all of us will look forward to reading what you saw and what you thought of it. Thank you!

A quick response to Manhattnik. I'm not at all sanguine about the *current* state of the Danish ballet. I've never said they should do only Bournonville; they can't exist on eight ballets, no one could. I've always admired their performances in certain well-chosen non-Bournonville works that were the company's staple repertory until recently. Ballets that didn't look top drawer elsewhere (Carmen, Miss Julie, Onegin, to take just three) were transformed there through incisive casting and coaching.

My guess is that to a European, "balanchinean lineoleum" would mean technique at the expense of everything, "just dance it dear," "it's the steps, stupid," "I hate soul," [only two of these comments were supposedly made by Balanchine]; a lack of polish: lack of port de bras, head/arms/eyes -- no attention paid to anything higher than the waist. It also connotes a smoothing out of styles, turning everything into "ballet blanc," "pure dance," etc., a difference in attack, line and dynamics that is not beautiful to all eyes. Some of this is really post-Balanchine, not truly attributible to Balanchine, more to his descendants and imitators. When a genius has left, his genius is turned into "rules," often simplifications of what he really meant.

This is a guess on my part, and if I'm missing something particular to Russian ballet, of course, please correct or amend this.

I also wanted to pick up on something Ilya wrote (I was too tired last night to write this), his comments on the benefits of "secondhand" ballet. I agree that both dancers and audiences can benefit. We have two models now: Paris and Copenhagen, when there was no longer a supply of first-rate "firsthand" works, both began to dance secondhand works and, when well chosen, this formed a very workable repertory. They kept their identity -- style and approach, dramatic ability in the Danish case (one colleague of mine joked that "we make bad ballets look good" should be the company's model) and a crystallization of a crystalline style in the case of Paris. The other model, still evolving, is NYCB, still unwilling to give up its "branding" as the company that's a creative institution, and so is committed to "firsthand" works that -- well, has there been a first-rate work created on that company since 1982? (18 years and counting.)

So there are pleasures and possibilities, but it's also a large can of worms, this taking in of other ballets. The current direction seems to be very international, collecting ballets as McKenzie is doing at ABT, like someone on a deranged shopping spree at Wal-Mart, taking anything off the shelf that will fit in the cart. If it's done carefully, if ballets are taken in that really suit the company's style or even particular dancers, it can be positive. If the dancers are made to fit into foreign clothes without the proper alterations, it will not.

Alexandra

[This message has been edited by alexandra (edited April 09, 2000).]

Ilya, long may you keep your optimism, but I don't think I'm afraid within the foreseeble future we will see artistic directors (not necessarily just at the Maryinsky) so incomptent they would not even understand that sentence.

Alexandra, who was once optimistic too (and is probably still naive)

Perhaps the "second hand" means not that they're not Russians, but that the Maryinsky had a proud tradition of dancing only works created on them. Even "Giselle" (as I'm sure Ilya knows) was changed a great deal by Petipa, so much so that it might be considered a "firsthand" work.

There are quite a few Balanchine ballets that are his revisions of Petipa ballets, yet NYCB considers them indigenous repertory.

Again, thanks for these reviews, Andrei and Ilya. Most Americans never get to know what is being written in Russia. (Don't be afraid to start a trend )

Thank you very much, Ilya. It reads very smoothly.

It's interesting that the reviewer's opinion is very close to many English and American critics when the ballet was first done -- that it's choreographically and dramatically thin, and yet, "One cannot deny this ballet visual appeal a la "mass demand for something balletic, accessible, dramatic, with love story and costumes"."

I was also very interested in the phrase "second hand ballet." I think that's a good sign. Other companies have been very eager to become "international." I hope the Russians fight for their heritage.

Thanks again for taking so much time and trouble to translate this.

Alexandra

Thank you VERY much for posting this Andrei, and I look forward to your report from Russia -- on this and any other things you see and learn about what's going on there.

(And if you could swing by Eifman on your way back....)

Thank you, Estelle. A lot of fine dancers have graduated from these programs, so it's good to know about them. (The reviews on this forum stay up, here, and don't go in the archives.)

Manhattnik, a belated thank you for such an entertaining and thorough review. I do wish you'd come down for "Dracula." It could have used your humor.

antoP, thank you for posting this, and I hope to read many more of your reports from Italy. We NEVER hear about Italian ballet here, and, as Estelle said, there are people from around the world, and it's lovely to read what's going on. It's frustrating, too, if you're the only one who's seen a performance, because it's difficultt to have a discussion, but rest assured, it will be read. (We have about 1200 people a day reading this board now )

Malakhov is probably a bit less known here in Europe because his appearances are limited to a few each spring with ABT; he doesn't tour much (last year, he did go to Orange County, but we haven't seen him in Washington since his first season). We did a portrait of him in DanceView, and often carry reviews, because we have a critic writing from Vienna, and another (who posts here frequently, Marc Haegeman) who's based in Belgium, but gets around.

It does sound like a depressing performance, and very like performances here, as well. The same problems are facing people everywhere. Here we might have a corps de ballet that's technically good, but so many different bodies and training styles that it's not a cohesive corps, and I've seen very few performances of any ballet created before World War II that were convincingly acted. (Yes, I know that's a sweeping statement.)

Estelle, I'm not sure I remember who I saw do Jeune Homme, unfortunately. Luigi Bononi? Something like that? This was at least ten years ago. And I THINK both Jean Charles Gil and Patrick Dupond.

Thanks for posting this, Estelle. Your reviews are interesting (as always!) I have to say I'm glad the audience liked a Petit program. I've always found Jeune Homme effective (I only saw Nureyev on film, and saw it onstage with the Marseilles company several times), I'm quite fond of Carmen, and have always wanted to see Les Forains. I understand what you mean about the small stage, though. I've often wished there were a really fine chamber ballet company that wanted to do Tudor, and early Ashton, and Petit, and other ballets that are full of detail and need great, small performances. In Heaven, perhaps....

I don't remember her, unfortunately, but that's one of my favorite dance books. I remember thinking at the time how wonderful it was that it got published, because she wasn't a big star (she was a young soloist at ABT when she stopped dancing) but it was absolutely fascinating to read about someone working with Tudor at her level (Rosaline in Romeo and Juliet and one of the Lovers in Experience in Pillar, I think, though this is from memory). You usually only read about principals, and, of course, the other characters are important as well. She's a good writer, too. Glad you found it!

I hope some of our more experienced balletgoers can tell us something about her.

Thanks for that note, Estelle (and for the excellent review, of course.) Those threads may well be interesting, but you're right, I would not want them to serve as a model!

I remembered another curtain call story, from Bruce Marks. I think it's in Barbara Newman's "Striking a Balance" (a terrific book of interviews; I highly recommend it). Marks went back and forth between ballet and modern dance, and he was appearing with a modern dance company (I'm pretty sure it was the Limon company) and took a curtain call ballet style -- proud -- all right, arrogant -- with a raised arm. And one of the dancers was backstage yelling at him, "Where do you think you f***ing are? At the f***ing Met?"

Manhattnik, there are 11 rows (and four tiers) in that Theatre. Please.

Michael, I agree. I don't think, though, that much deep thinking goes into staging any "classic" these days. Notions and puffery are all that's needed.

Mme. Hermine, I think the Balanchine quote is, "You have a boy and a girl. How much story do you want?"

Jeannie, I certainly agree with you on the article. I think, too, that a "critics versus audience" dichotomy often doesn't work. I know fans who detest "Merry Widow," et al., and critics who think they're great (and, of course, vice versa). I've often had total strangers come up to me at the Kennedy Center and (gently, nicely) chide me for "wimping out" in a review. the point I was trying to make about critics and story ballets is that for many, the common criteria is good choreography, good productions. The "Balanchine critics" are quite happy with his ballets, because they meet those criteria. And, back to your comments on the article, I agree, too, that puffery is everywhere. Unfortunately, it usually works.

Douglas, thank you for that thoughtful response. I think we always see the superficial first -- there's no other way to do it. We work at a ballet from the costumes and the dancers (whether they're appealing or not) on through. Some people -- probably most of the audience -- doesn't go much past that, and I don't think anyone expects them to. (But I don't think "elites" mock this) There are probably lots of people who could go to a ballet 50 times and be perfectly happy just watching the outer layer, and there are others who "get" the outer layer after a time or two, never break through to the inside layers, and therefore dismiss the ballet, or the entire art form.

I thought your summary of Shakespeare was terrific, and I think the greatest theatrical art still uses those "rules," and it's always been one of the criterion by which works are judged. Great art has depth. Something for the casual viewer, something for the fan, something for the groundlings, but also something for those -- often in the gallery -- who come back night after night to drink from that well.

Estelle: I didn't mean that the danseur noble disappeared the day the Bastille fell , but that category was replaced by the "classique" (semicharacter classical) in Paris after the Revolution. The heroic ballets stopped after the Revolution (which took longer than a day, I think ) There were lots of mythological ballets, but not the heroic mythological ones. Anacreontic is used to mean "pastoral" I think. The very early 1800s were a romantic-neoclassical period, a bridge period, analogous to naturalism (don't know if that's a period in French literature; it is in English literature) It's a time when the peasants and ordinaiy people were ennobled, given the leading roles, but not portrayed realistically. In painting, I think it's the difference between David and Fragonard.

Which reminded me of going through the National Gallery here on a guided tour a few years ago that included the French neoclassical room, and the art historian who was taking us around said, notice the bodies. They're a bit odd by our standards: small head, long neck, long arms and legs. Click! They're not odd! They're the bodies ballet was created on! (I couldn't help but point this out )

Flore et Zephyr and those ballets were the first that used the classique type in the leads, I think. I think it was also around this time that the commedia lost its noble characters (I never can remember their names) and Harlequin and Colombine became the leading characters.

As for later danseur nobles. Hmm. Does Pavel Gerdt help? There must have been something extraordinary about him that transcends the pudgebucket photos we have, else Petipa wouldn't have used him so frequently. Smakov calls him "Petipa's Blue Knight;" blue was the nobles' color, the color of the Prince's jacket (clear, beautiful "French blue," the color of Nureyev's jacket for Florimund in Sleeping Beauty). The danseur noble did survive in Russia, because Petipa brought him there. It may have been out of fashion in Paris, but the Russian absolute monarchy, and that culture, didn't mind a bit.

I think the danseur noble genre really died then, in any meaningful way. I agree with Alymer that the "most useful" dancer is the one that can do anything, and there are slightly shorter, and slighter, dancers who are quite convincing Princes -- at least to our eyes. Don't know what the Gardels would think. (Nureyev, Bruhn, Dowell would all be "classiques" BUT they had the weight, not only the deep rich plie, but the gravamen, to be wonderful Princes.]

Maybe the true danseurs nobles of more recent times would be Nikolaj Fadeyechev (he's on videos), Peter Martins--not to say that he danced those roles very often, but as a body type. Michael Somes, and his role in "Ondine" is a real danseur noble role. The only American dancer I'd put in that category was Patrick Bissell. I don't know enough about the current Russian crop of dancers to even make a stab at mentioning anybody. Of the dancers I've seen a lot of, Konstantin Zaklinsky. In Denmark, Kenneth Greve, today, and it really made a difference in the Martins' Swan Lake. When he walked on (in a blue costume) he created the court by his presence, not like a lost pizza delivery boy. Kronstam (6 foot 1) was a danseur noble, and there were actually two or three danseur noble roles created on him early in his career in the restoration of a few 18th century French opera-ballets (at a Festival in Aix-en-Provence). There are pictures of him in a tonnelot (sp) and gorgeous plumed helmet. I started exploring the genre question in depth when I started working on my book, because Kronstam's contemporaries (dancers) kept saying, "Now, he was a real danseur noble," and because they kept stressing that he could be very light and quick in certain roles, but had a weight that other dancers didn't have; it's what made him able to do modern dance when he was in his 40s.

Alymer (good to read you again) I remember DeValois talking about this, too -- interesting that there are usually only three genres, the noble, demicaractere and character; I think this is because by the 1930s the noble had been completely replaced, at least in the West, by the classique. In her "Invitation to the Dance" she also has the prescription for forming a ballet company. Take two classical ballerinas and two demicaractere ballerinas, etc. (But in Joan Lawson's writing, she describes the four genres quite thoroughly).

Michael, I loved your summary of history -- I agree totally. I would add that the Monarchist Russian ballet produced its greatest art in the late 19th century, when the ballet of the people in Paris had become decadent and produced nothing of lasting value

[This message has been edited by alexandra (edited March 02, 2000).]

The Trocks were in fine form in DC last week, btw. I'd urge anyone who likes ballet humor to catch them. I'm sure they'll be gadding about.

They've got a new curtain call, the curtainless curtain call. (New from the last time they were here, anyway). It was part of "Giselle." The dancers step back, as they always do, except there's no curtain; only a play pretend one. So you see Albrecht lunge for Giselle's flowers. A squabble ensues. Albrecht realizes the audience can see him, calls this to the attention of the others, and they're back in curtain call mode.

I have a Danish curtain call story, from a young dancer. He said he couldn't remember who taught him, but it had to be Brenaa. It's better when mimed, but I'll try.

First, you raise your eyes to the gallery, and raise one hand to salute them, as if to say, "Thank you for appreciating my art" and then you cross your hands over your chest, smile modestly, and box to the people in the first four rows, as if to say, "and thank you for paying." Hans Brenaa supposedly once instructed a dancer to "dance for the people in the first four rows, because they have paid the most for the ticket.)

Michael, I think your instincts on the analogy between emploi and harmony in music are probably right on, especially since all this started during a neoclassical age. I learned a lot about emploi from reading Ivor Guest's "The Ballet of the Enlightenment." I've always been interested in how things started and where they come from. I also didn't mean to mock your use of the term aesthetic theory at all, but to point out that all this was really something that existed before theory.

I love the "perky allegro" category, Jeannie. That's a good way to put it. I think Dale's emploi for Symphony in C makes sense.

I've read several times that Peter Martins will say that Balanchine divided his repertory into tall boy and short boy, and I think you can see that in Martins' casting, but I don't think that always works. I remember Croce once criticizing ABT's Swan Lake for making anyone who was tall be a nobleman and anyone short be a peasant but, as she said, it's their short men (at that time) who were the more elegant. One of the problems may be that it is very hard to have a company that has dancers right for "Billy the Kid" who have to do "Swan Lake" the next night. Another reason why employ has remained stricter in the great, old companies who stick more to their "native" repertory.

Just a brief word -- this isn't about which dancers we may prefer, or, at the other extreme, merely an "aesthetic theory," though. This is how ballet started. These are the roots of ballet. It was very strictly applied for two centuries. Dancers were assigned to categories while in training, assigned specific rhythms, specific steps, and classified by type. You were the premier danseur noble, the premiere danseuse de demicaractere, etc. These types weren't made up to suit some politician or idiot critic, but by the balletmasters, and they weren't made up out of whole cloth. They're ancient in European culture -- very similar, actually, to the roles in the commedia. Manhattnik, they do put dancers in boxes. That's the point. If it looks rigid to us now, it's as much because we've seen such messes made of ballets through contemporary casting that we've lost our eye. That doesn't negate the system.

A few years ago at the Ashton conference, two small solos that Ashton had created for the school were danced. He called one of them a classical solo and the other a demicaractere one. Ashton, and Balanchine, used these categories as strictly as Petipa and Bournonville did. It's one of the things that made them classical/neoclassical choreographers. (I remember when Baryshnikov joined NYCB some people were shocked that, as one critic wrote, "Balanchine seems to see Baryshnikov as a demicaractere dancer.")

Dancers not wanting to be put in boxes is a very American attitude; it's an afront to our sense of individualislm. And it's one of the reasons modern dance was created--made by people who would NOT be put in a box. (I don't mean this in a pejorative way at all; it's one of the glories of modern dance, especially early modern dance.)

Leigh, I don't think soubrettes are the tambourine bashing demis. They're the women in the ball gown -- not the Grace Kellys, and not the seducers, but the seducible women.

Leigh, haven't you just described a soubrette? (Not a pejorative term)

BTW, Andrei, when we talk about ingenues and heroes, I think that's as much "types" as "employ." (Don't despair, Paul! I just learned about these, as they relate to ballet, two years ago!)

There were once more than 200 types in the theater. Only ingenue, villain, old man, old woman, etc. are left now, but once they were quite differentiated. The Judge's Wife, the Woman in the Apron, the Woman in the Ballgown. Actors, dancers and singers were assigned to a certain number of appropriate types (and you changed as you grew older) and then, when a play was put on, it was like paint-by-numbers. I'm sure, when there was an inspired, intelligent director, things could change, but these systems were great for the hacks.

Thanks for raising this, Dale. My eye stopped at that very passage.

First off, I think it's a crashinginly inaccurate statement. I don't know a critic who doesn't like story ballets. That doesn't mean they swallow every production of a story ballet. I think the division is between people who value choreography and people who aren't that concerned about it -- either because, as Paul points out, they are more casual viewers, or because they just don't care, like readers who don't mind a book with good characters and a well-developed plot, even if it's badly written versus those who will tolerate, or even prefer, a boring story with an unlikable hero if the writing is top drawer.

I found Jaffe's comments interesting, because when she was a young dancer, she was very blank, dramatically, and seemed to be very "it's the steps, look at my technique" to me. I never got the impression that she was aiming to be a dramatic dancer (like Ferri, for instance, who would seem to have been a "soul" person from childhood.

Paul, I think your points are very good ones. I always sympathize with your comments about how much there is to learn. I've always puzzled, though, over why this is such a shock to ballet people. I think when people discover opera, they understand that they can enjoy an occasional performance, or they're going to have to dive into musical terminology and performance history if they're going to hold their own in those intermission brawls over who the greatest is in this or that role, and for many people, this seems to be part of the fun. But for many people who come to ballet, there seems to be an assumption that there's nothing to it except what's before us on stage at that moment -- aside from the fact that there are technical aspects of dancing the average audiencegoer doesn't know.

Re Balanchine "versus" story ballets -- again, a false dichtomy. It's good versus bad choreography. (And Balanchine ballets DO have a story. The wonderful thing about them is that it's a different story for each person, or each season of life, or from one performance to another.)

Now, the dichotomy between Balanchine and Tudor is a real one, I think. I'd love a re-examination of Tudor and I wish his ballets were more frequently performed. Why not a Tudor festival, to try to get back some of the really rare ones, like "Shadow of the Wind" (is that possible?) or the ballets he did while at NYCB. It is true that the kind of ballet that Tudor (and Massine) made became out of fashion in the 1950s when Balanchine became The Man (in the same way that Graham ballets became old-fashioned in the wake of Cunningham) and this mirrors a similar dichotomy in painting. I don't think the story ballets that are being done today, though, have anything much to do with Tudor. His work *was* fine choreography, as fine as Balanchine's, IMO. He's a first-rate choreographer. It's the stories themselves that don't quite hold up now (Pillar, in a post-feminist age, doesn't pack the same punch as it did in the '40s, nor does "Undertow.") Perhaps if ABT had stuck to their Tudor guns, they would have found a way to make those ballets work, in the same way that the Danes did for so long with their Mr. B. (whose ballets survived both realism and modernism. So it can be done.)

Intuviel, I loved the wineglass story. I'd never heard that one. You've set a new challenge for dancers

Leigh, is it possible that the roles have changed so much, through time and a hundred bodies, that we can't really answer your question? I'm sure there are individual differences, but I also think that the fourth genre was a blending of the old noble style, which was decapitated around 1789, and the demicaractere.

I suggest that whoever responds start a second thread, Emploi 2, because even with the new multi-pages, this is getting a bit long for older computers, I think.

Alexandra