cargill

My number one I think would be the original Sleeping Beauty.

And my number two is the 1949 Fonteyn Sleeping Beauty.

And my number three is the Diaghilev Sleeping Beauty.

My number 4 is the 1979 Bournonville Festival--I was there and I want to see it all over again with the same casts and productions.

If I have to limit it to 5, I guess my final one would be the original Bayadere. I would love to see what it looked like.

Like so many others, I would have to say Alexander Grant is my favorite, possibly because I was lucky enough to see him so often. His Bottom, when he woke up from the dream, and looked around the forest, was unforgettable, funny and eerie and so touching. And of course Alain, so pathetic when he tried to give away the ring, and so triumphant when it started to rain, and only he had an umbrella! As an aside, I wrote in a review that I thought it was too bad that ABT didn't keep that moment--the widow tells Alain to open it up, making him more of a simpleton. I said that I supposed that it must have been done that way originally since Grant set the ballet on ABT, but that I regretted losing that moment. Mr. Grant wrote me to say that that was his favorite moment, that he was glad I mentioned it, and that he had set it, but that the dancers tended to improvise that bit. I remember Jonathan Howells' Alain, and he was particularly funny in that bit, so I only hope that the Royal Ballet doesn't lose it! Howells, by the way, was a very, very good Alain, I thought, but I haven't seen his name recently.

I also think Guillaume Graffin, of ABT, is a very good character dancer. His Radjah (as ABT spells it for some reason) is the best one I have ever seen, so powerful. During the bethrothal scene, I can hardly keep my eyes on Nikiya, he was so dominating, taking a few steps and telling the Aya to kill her. And his Widow Simone was so detailed, flirty and French, and quite fond of a tipple.

I lasted about 6 hours, and unfortunately had to miss the evening, which sounded like the best. I loved the coaching sessions, but of course they were far too short. I thought Ashley was so interesting in Stars and Stripes, stressing that it should not be cute, that is was a classical pas de deux. It was so interesting to see it in practice costume (before they changed into the costumes), and to hear it on a piano rather than the brassy (in a good way!) orchestrations. It is a beautiful pas de deux, and would be facinating to see, I think, danced to classical music--I'm sure some Drigo could be made to fit! The more I see Stars and Stripes, the more it looks like Petipa to me--thoses trumpets and batons seem so close to Medora's trumpet or Kitri's fan.

This is off topic, I know, but I did want to respond to the idea that Petipa's Rose Adagio was there to show off how long a dancer could balance--it is my impression that the over-the-head balances were a 20th century invention. The Russians I know don't do them, just balance while moving the hand to the next suitor, so the piece is constantly moving.

About the music to the finale of Firebird, I am pretty sure it is based on a Russian folk tune. I heard it played by a Russian folk ensemble a few years ago, on an accordion (a very tiny one). I don't have the program, but I know it was described as an old folk song.

In light of Martins comments in the Sarah Kaufman interview, I thought it was interesting to see that as part of the Guggenheim Works & Process presentations, he will be coaching Stravinsky Violin Concerto on April 18 and 19. I saw him coach Apollo at an earlier Guggenheim presentation, and he was wonderful. So clear, so detailed, so focused on the meanings behind the steps and the metaphors that Balanchine had used to teach him the part. It was one of the most interesting sessions I have seen.

When the Madison Building (at the Library of Congress) opened, someone said it looked like the box that the KennedyCenter came in, which I thought described both buildings very well.

If I were Martins, I would be cheering Innoue (sp!) on! She makes all the, to my mind often valid, criticisms of Martins sound petty, ignorant, and spiteful. She certainly hasn't written regularly, and swooping in pontificating about something she clearly hasn't seen much of makes her seem arrogant and her opinions insignificant. On the other hand, I don't always agree with Gottlieb, but he certainly knows what he is writing about. Maybe lack of space prevents his explaining his criticisms of Ringer (I like her very much), but at least I know it is an honest opinion, and not some trendy nay-saying. But I do think Martins has fiddled a bit too much with Sleeping Beauty, or cut too much in some places. I don't like his Diamond Fairy at all--it is just jerky muscling, compared with the dance Ashton made to that music. And I want a complete Prologue!

I don't think emploi is a straighjacket either--certainly it wasn't in the 19th century. Aurora, for example, could certainly be danced by three different types of dancers, but is danced by one, who must be versatile. The same with Odette/Odile--lyrical and technical depending on the act. (Of course, later on there was a tradition of having Swan Lake danced by 2 different dancers, but that isn't the way it was intended.) And I certainly wouldn't have objected to seeing Verdy dance Diamonds!

I certainly agree about Hankes. I hadn't noticed her at all before--so much for me!, and was amazed at her presence. I loved her mime so much. She reminded me slightly of Deanne Bergsma, who always looked like she was born with a wand in her hand.

I agree--I can't think of any situation where I would audibly boo a dancer. Not applaud and mumble to myself or hiss inaudibly, maybe, but never boo out loud! But then I have trouble yelling BRAVO, too. However, when it comes to stage designers, etc., who presumably have had some time to plan, I don't see any problem with letting them know if the audience is dissatisfied. The best demonstration, and most polite, that I can remember, was the gala audience (the Queen was there) at the opening of Macmillan's 1973 Sleeping Beauty, which was truly awful, unbelievably garish. The designer and Macmillan came to take a bow with the dancers, and the silence was defeaning, just a few minor claps. Then one of the dancers was given a bouquet of flowers, stepped forwarded to acknowledge them, and everybody applauded like mad. When she stepped back in line, the applause stopped. The look on her face was priceless.

But booing does at least mean the audience cares.

I didn't see this performance (I am going on Sunday), but if she ignored the 4th suitor to stay on balance, the way some of the Royal Ballet dancers do, I think that is a gross breach of ettiquette, and way too show offy--though a dancer friend told me that actually it is easier to stay on balance once you have it, than to bring the hand back down and do the promenade. As I said, though, I didn't see it.

I really didn't see any problems with Rutherford's Emeralds--I thought she was really lovely. Of course the music is far too fast, but I thought the jewel pas de quatre was one of the strongest ensembles I have seen in a long time. Really graceful upper bodies, and classical shapes. I kept thinking that van Kipnis or Rutherford should really have had a shot of Lilac!

I actually thought I heard boos, as well, but I couldn't tell whether it was a sort of a loud "OOO!" I preferred to think the latter! But I heard them after the Bluebirds, and I'm afraid they might has been a slight expression of exasperation. With Carmena and Ulbricht in the company, not to mention De Luz, it was an odd decision to cast Gold. But nobody booed the orchestra, except me, but that was silently.

I think that moment depends on the way it is done. If the Prince does the lightbulb going off in my head exaggerated moment, it can look silly, but I think done right, it is beautiful. It stresses the importance of the moment, of love conquering darkness, and the feeling should well up from his heart into his eyes (think Peter Boal!), and then burst out with the music. We would miss that if he just ran up to her immediately.

I saw all the Carabosses, and it isn't surprizing to me that principals do it--it is one of the keys to making Beauty work. Ashley was great--as she was from the beginning, very believably insulted. I wasn't very impressed with Kowroski or Nichols, though it can take years to establish a character role properly. Kowroski's gestures were too wild and light; she was too much like a cartoon. Carabosse should never be exaggerated to the point of caricature. Carabosse isn't about long black fingernails. There were some good natured hisses when she took her curtain calls, which meant that she was completely ineffective. Nichols didn't seem really to believe in the part, and posed a bit much, but again it was her first performance and a real stretch for her. Now if only City Ballet would realize that the fairies, too, should be danced by principals!

I have only seen her in a couple of roles, Symphonic with the Royal Ballet in Washington, and Nikiya when she guested with ABT. In both, I was somewhat disappointed. I thought she was a bit too light weight for both, though she is a lovely dancer. This was not a uniformly shared opinion by any means! She seemed to me, though, to stretch everything out, and distort some of the classical lines. I remember especially a bit in the Shades scene, when Nikiya jumps sideways; the ABT dancers' legs made a beautiful arc, but she looked like a gymnast, with her legs flat on each side and off the music. It may just be a question of what I was used to seeing, but to me it was jarring. And in the final pose, Nikiya is pulling Solor up to the heavens. Cojocaru bent her back almost horizontal, again, a striking pose, but it destroyed the upward movement. I don't know if this could contribute to the lack of footwork you see, but her shoes were really not pretty, with huge, seemingly heavy blocks. I did think seeing her, that she would be a much better Giselle than Nikiya.

It's funny you mentioned Jean Harlow, I think of her in those lines too, but more like Carole Lombard, with a daffy kind of cool elegance--Harlow had a lot of things, but coolness wasn't one of them! I think she is best, so far, when she can hide behind a character, and for me Titania is where I like her best. In pieces like Mozartiana, she does look too much like Farrel, a sort of one dimentional version, and I don't think she has found her own way into those roles. For me, in Symphony in C, her flexibility works against her, because it is so easy it seems like a trick and doesn't express anything, like pulling against fate. The 185 or so degrees also just looks distorted and destroys the line. Just because something can be done does not mean it should be!

I certainly used to feel the corps work in Diamonds was pretty pedestrian, (sort of like my spelling!) until I saw the Kirov do it, and that was an absolute revelation. I really did feel chills up my spine when those legs swooped up, and their upper bodies in the polonaise and the Russian dance were staggeringly beautiful. I wanted it to go on forever. However, that feeling only lasts as long as the Kirov is dancing. It was, I agree, dull dull dull in the recent performances. The pas de deux just seems to come out of nowhere, with no relation to anything else on stage. Though the iceberg sets don't help. I really like Kowroski's take on the pas de duex, it did seem very related to her Swan Lake, very mysterious and haunted, but that is what the choreogrpaphy is. Kistler I liked very much too (she was dancing very well--no not the Kistler of years ago, but she was beautiful), but it didn't look like the same choreography, not because she did different steps, but because she made it suit her--it was just so profoundly happy. I think either approach works, as long as it comes from the dancer.

Talk about a Valentine's Day present! I can't wait.

I have noticed that Kowroski tends to get applause from her arabesque in Serenade, and to me it is wrong--she is just exaggerating the shape of the movement rather than commanding the man or the mood, and flowing on to the next movement. Sylve's much more traditionally shaped arabesque has much more power I think, because she seems to be aiming at something. If done well, that moment is quite mysterious, rather than applause getting. I did notice that the last Serenade I saw Kowroski do, she had toned down the exaggeration and seemed much more powerful. I also, to get back on topic!, thought her Swan was much better than it was a few years ago. A lot less flapping (Odette is not a swan!), and much more eye contact. Though how her partner could look at that Tweety-Bird headress and not laugh, I don't know.

I would be very happy not to read about how some female dancer is so-an-so's muse, just because he has made a couple of pieces for her. In fact, I would be happy to drop the word muse altogether, unless someone is writing about Apollo!

I just wanted to give a brief report of the Guggenheim talk last night, and to encourage anyone who can to go tonight. It featured Todd Bolender coaching Phlegmatic and Peter Martins coaching Apollo. Bolender worked with Arch Higgins, who I think is doing it again tonight, and Martin with Ethan Stiefel, but tonight he will be working with Askegard.

Bolender is almost 90, but can still move, though he was assisted by someone from the Kansas City Ballet. He said Balanchine said absolutely nothing about the role, but to his knowledge, never changed anything. He also said that he had had a strong background in modern dance, worked with Wigman, I think he said, and that Balanchine used that. One thing I noticed about him was his very long arms, and he said that he was always very flexible, and that Balanchine used that. He did demonstrate some of the arm movements, which was so wonderful to see.

Martins in the interview after the session said that Balanchine had told him that Apollo was a demi-character role, and I wish that had been followed up on a bit. It would have been helpful, I think, to know how or if that distinction is used today, and if it figures in the casting. I know other places Martins has said that Balanchine didn't really like Martins' Apollo. But the coaching session was so wonderful--I felt I learned so much about the role in that brief amoung of time. Martins was very precise about the musical counts, correcting them often. And about the metaphors and images Balanchine used to explain the role. There was one place, where Stiefel danced quite beautifully, and then Martins explained that Balanchine wanted the image of a soccer player kicking a ball somewhere and that just completely energized the moment. There were lots of little things like that--the dancing on coals bit, as well. What struck me here (as well as in Phlegmatic) was the emphasis on not turning out. Bolender would correct the dancer and say "sixth position", and Martins showed clearly the difference it made in some of the movements. Martins stressed the difficulty of many of the moves, and it would have been interesting to hear his thoughts on how the choreography developed, and if Balanchine ever said anything--was it always that difficult, and if so, how did Lifar dance it?

It was a wonderful evening, and I was struck yet again by how generous Nancy Reynolds has been in getting sessions like this filmed. (She was responsible for this evening as well.) I am sure others there could fill in some of the things I left out, but it really was a great evening.

Well, I am just sitting down to write a review of Double Feature, and "defies description" pretty much sums it up! As for cliches, I am sure I have used them all--I actually like amplitude. Three-dimensional is one I have used, which really doesn't mean much, since no one is really two dimensional (though choreography can be!).

I saw Maffre when she was in NY a few years ago doing the pas de deux in Agon, and I was absolutely amazed. She was so wonderful, in a very cool way. The pas de deux has become sort of slashing in some hands, slamming into a position as hard as can be and holding it. She never seemed to stop moving, and it never looked vulgar or sleazy (the way it can). I especially remember a moment which I had never seen before, when her arms seemed to barely ripple with the music. It is a moment when most dancers I have seen just stand there, but her body just seemed part of the music. As I said, she always seemed to be shifting positions, so the piece seemed so alive. I just wish she would come back!