cargill

I don't think it is just that there is so much to dislike about Manon that is what makes some people so agitated about it. I certainly can see why it is popular, it packs an emotional whallop, the music is accessible, and it is at its heart super-sentimental. I also think there are a couple of interesting bits in it that are hard edged and striking--unlike Ed, I find the pas de trois between Manon, de Grieux, and Monsieur GM very good. Macmillan finally does seem to me to get the mood through steps and not just gratuitous hugging and rolling around. And the scene in the gambling hall where Manon is carried around by men she has enraptured seems to convey her position in choreographic terms. She is both a slave unable to escape (or touch the ground) and the enslaver. But other than than the ballet seems insufferable padding, but no worse than say, the Merry Widow. But what is most worrying, to me anyway, is that it is becoming to a large extent the Royal Ballet's signature, bread and butter ballet, and there is so little opportunity in it for other dancers to develop, as opposed to the classics, were there are so many different pas de trois, das de deux, and solos, especially The Sleeping Beauty. If a comapny exists on Manon and Co. the only really needs a few big emotional dancers and not much in the way of classisicm.

Oh yes, I recognized Spartacus and the Green Table, and Job (the Death figure was made up a lot like pictures I have seen of Dolin), and Petrushka and Checkmate, and several Macmillan ballets (Juliet and her nurse and the nasty gaoler from Manon), and quite a few others. During the intermission, someone did say "Well it's very popular in Birmingham", which reminded me of the bit of dialogue from Sullivan's Travels about a movie the hero had made. "What do they know in Pittsburg?" "They know what they like in Pittsburg." "If they knew what they liked, they wouldn't live in Pittsburg." And what makes the whole thing even more galling is that BRB has done such interesting things. Why not bring The Prospect Before Us , or some of their Ashton, instead of some black leather rehash of stuff we have all seen so much of before.

What can I add, except I had a debate during the intermission with someone about whether this was worse than The Snow Maiden, and we both reluctantly agreed that if forced, we would choose EdwardII. That was before the second act, however, which was truly, monumentally, staggeringly boring. It has all the vulgarity but none of the conviction of Eifman, and was truly inept. I think my very favorite part was, in order to show a voyage to France, he had little Edward III (dressed like a Victorian boy--the Nutcracker Prince after the transformation) swoop around the stage behind mylar curtains with a toy clipper ship (not very medieval), while the stage behind him dropped flats studded with the flur de lys. Well duh. (Presumably to let us know that the fleur de lys was not a symbol for Medieval France, the French courtiers were dressed in lolipop colored business suits, in order to make the message more universal.) But what was the message? There is a very funny book of potted English history called 1066 And All That, a brief summary of what the average student might remember after leaving school, which divided things into Good Things and Bad Things, and I have to say that Edward II is a Very Bad Thing.

It was Arlene Croce, always good for an apt quote, who wrote once that Divertimento #15 was famous for never being performed well--I suppose somewhat of an overstatement, considering the original cast! But she did say (I am quoting from memory) that if not done well it could look a bit chocolate boxy. But that was the dancing, not the ballet itself, which is really perfection. It is like visiting the prologue fairies at home--it may be a concidence that there are five main women, and then again it may not. I really think the more Petipa you have seen, the more extraordinary Divertimento looks. It is just so concentrated, it is like mainlining Beauty. I am fond of well-made fluff, and wouldn't use the term as a putdown necessarily, but Divertimento is rock solid with deep foundations going back through ballet history.

Estelle, Thank you for your review. But did you mean that Jenifer Ringer was the girl in pink in Dances at a Gathering, or the girl in apricot? I think she has only done apricot here in New York, but if she did pink, you were very lucky--I'm sure she would be wonderful in that.

I don't want to try to read McCauley's mind, but I read the piece to mean that Balanchine ballets were in most companies' futures--that they hadn't danced them yet and would get the opportunity, whereas at NYCB he was now very familiar and perhaps a bit old hat with some of the dancers. I didn't think that he meant that only Balanchine would be in other companies futures. I don't remember the Tobias article where she complained about using Meunier so much, but it may be that she saw a pattern of using one particular dancer until she was injured and out for a long time--as has happened with Koworski, Ansanelli, and others.

One of the most moving Giselles I ever saw was Merle Park, who certianly wouldn't come to mind as a natural Giselle. But she was so light in the 2nd act, and so maliable, she really seemed like she wasn't there. As I have said before, I think Amanda McKerrow's interpretation is extraordinaryily believable. She is so convincing as a young girl in the first act. I remember once sitting behind someone partially blocking my view and during the harvest scene, I could tell instantly from her face when Albrecht returned to the stage, even though I couldn't see him. It was like a lightbulb lit up in her.

To my mind a recent example of the difference between virtuosity and grace was comparing Wendy Whelan and Lopatkina in the 2nd movement in Symphony in C. To me Whelan makes to deep arabesque penchee look hard, she seems determined to force her head down no matter what, and it always gets a round of applause. When I saw Lopatkina do it last year in New York with the Kirov, she just flowed through the steps, shading them, but not overemphasizing anything, and the audience just sat there, seemingly holding its breath until the end. To me that is the real art, to conceal the effort and communicate the spirit.

One of the nicest curtain calls I have seen was at the 1979 Bournonville Festival, on the final night. The audience (which seemed to be about 50% foreign) had bought lots of flowers to throw at the dancers, and apparently Danish dancers at that time didn't get flowers and didn't really know what to do. So instead of the men gracefully picking them up and humbly giving them to the women, the women were running up and picking them up themselves, with the most surprized looks. It is one of my favorite memories.

The best bows, I think, are the ones the Trockaderos take, especially the ballerina eye-batting, "Is all this enthusiasm just for little old me", ones. They are hysterical.

Yes, I know that there was no sharp break, but I was trying to explain Alexandra's reference to 1789 and decapitation.

Estelle, I think what Alexandra meant was that after the French Revolution, the audience didn't want to see the more classical (as in Greek myths) ballets where the hero was superhumanly noble, with the static grace those roles required. (assuming we can really tell from descriptions.) No more Louis XIV.

To me ballets like Concerto Barocco (would that there were more of them!), don't necessarily have a story, but they do have a mood, like most Balanchine works; man seeks and does or does not find. Even 4 Temperaments, which is so extraordinarily about the music, has Melancholic, which is about as personal as it comes. But the mood/story is just one of the subtexts of the choreography and the dancing, and of course it differs with each viewer.

One habit the Russians have which really bothers me (I don't know if they still do it) is stopping after the fouettes for the ballerina to take her bows, and then continuing with the pas de deux. It seem to me to interrupt the mood so, and dampen the excitement of whatever steps come afterwards--besides being irritating, it is not theatrical, since the whole dance should build. But I bet ballet dancers would like to imitate opera singers, and get curtain calls after every act.

About Ilya's question as to the NY reaction to Ruzimatov in Apollo; I don't think emploi as such was involved, it was more an issue of his flamboyance being inappropriate, I would guess. (He didn't appear in NY very much, and the picture of him with glitter dust in his hair in Theme and Variations is still quite strong.) I also think the casting of Apollo is something people argue about; as I understand, Jacque d'Amboise was considered a wonderful Apollo, and he was more of a character than a classical dancer, from what I gather. In a recent interview Peter Martins said that Balanchine had always told him that Apollo was demi-charactere. Unfortunately the interviewer didn't seem to know enough to follow up on that, and ask for more clarification. And about Blue Bird, it was done for Cechetti originally, and the pictures of him in that costume with those huge thighs make it look like it was a long way from the style it is danced now. I think it would be interesting to see it danced less classically, to make it more of a contrast with the Prince's variation, but I guess there isn't much chance of that.

I am very fond of Davidsbundlertanze, since it is the first Balanchine ballet I really got. I had usually enjoyed the patterns and dancing (especially the after-Petipa ones), but at a performance of Davidsbundlertanze I finally realized that the steps were really saying things, not in words of course, but conveying specific emotions. Each couple dances differently, and in both parts (the character shoes and the toes shoes) the dialogue continued. It seems to me that the couples in Davidsbunderlertanze are aspects of the same person at different stages, and that the couples in Liebeslieder was different people. I do think th e general critical opinion is that Liebeslieder is the stronger work, and (when it is well cast), I could watch it forever. But to me Davidsbundertanze is special. Mary

I always think of Liebeslieder, which would be on my all time favorite Balanchine programs, as sort of a Chekov play, with so many undercurrents and half-said things. I have only seen it at State Theatre, but can imagine it would have been even more powerful at City Center. I know the Royal Ballet did a version a few years ago, which was not considered very successful. Did anyone see it, and have an idea why? Mary

I know you didn't ask me, but I will add my 2 cents anyway! Fonteyn was so beautifully controlled, and has such a pure line, nothing was overstretched. She was so definitely a woman, with no extra flutterings, but she was also so swan-like. I don't know if I have written about it here, but there was one magical moment when she folded her arms, and I really did see wings. She also had such a sence of tragedy and nobility. Markarova seemed to be so wan and mannered, fluttering and batting her eyes, and so self-indulgently slow with the music. Though that is not emploi, that is Russian!

I may be in the minority (to put it mildly!) but I would have been just as happy if Makarova hadn't made such a speciality of Swan Lake; I thought she was just too woozy, and besides she didn't do the mime, which for me anyway is the most important part. One of the problems in emploi jumping may simply be the lack of roles. I remember reading an interview with Carol Vaness, who said even though she had the voice to do Butterfly, she was not going to do it because it just didn't suit her personality. But there are dozens of other wonderful roles she can do; if a dancer honestly decides she isn't suited to Odette, then she has cut herself off from about a quarter of the classical repertory. We have been talking about people doing things they really shouldn't--how about the losses of roles people didn't do--can you imagine Van Hamel as Lilac?

I don't think Herrera's only problem is emploi--flailing wrists are a sign of poor training or coaching, and would be out of place in Kitri, which she is certainly temperamentally suited for. I think it is more a problem of stars, and audiences thinking that they have to see them in everything. Barishnikov, from what I understand, wanted to leave Russia because he didn't want to dance the peasant pas de deux for the rest of his life (since in Russia he wasn't considered princely material); his technique got him everything in the west, and I think we are living with the consequences. Of course ABT was casting against type long before Barishnykov--van Hamel and Gregory would have been astounding Myrtas, but because they were "stars", they were usually (mis)cast as Giselle and never really owned Myrtha.

To continue with Liebeslieder, I thought when I first saw the Weese/Woetzel part (with Saland and Andersen) that they were mismatched--he was hopelessly in love with her, and she was only fond of him. Even now I can remember Andersen's pleading looks, and her apologetically touching his bowed head. With Saland, I got the feeling that she felt she was trapped, and desperately (but genteely) eager to escape--I remember she kept looking away, and outward with those dark beautiful eyes. I don't think Weese captured that quality, though she danced beautifully, of course. It was almost like she was playing peek-a-boo with her glances, and at one time the audience started to giggle. (I only saw her a couple of years ago, and don't know what she is like now.) But when she first did it, for me she wasn't really able to express much more than the steps when she was dancing. But when I first saw it, I thought that couple had the most complex relationship.

Seymour danced what is basically the girl in green in Dances at a Gathering (though the British verison divided up the roles a bit differently), and after all these years, I can still see her whenever I watch the ballet. No one has ever done the little ethnic touches (tossing the head, or the arm movements) as gracefully or as roundly. And she was so funny in the walking scene, and in her solo.

I remember years ago at Covent Garden, Monica Mason, as Myrtha, broke her foot in a jump, finished the scene (mainly by adlibing with her arms--she was brilliant), and a few seconds later Myrtha was Lesley Collier, who had danced the peasant pas de deux, and was obviously on her way home, because she had only had time to put on a white dress, and everytime she turned, the audience could see pink underwear. Sadly Monica Mason was out for about a year after that.

And of course in St. Petersburg there is Theatre Street.

Here in New York (where everyone is in such a hurry!), if Dances at a Gathering is the last ballet, abut half the audience starts to get up as soon as the last piece (the gorgeous walking piece) starts, utterly ruining the mood. I think Robbins noticed this, because for the last few years Dances was not programmed last, which does help a bit. I can understand people leaving quickly to catch trains, but even matinee audiences stream out--someone called it a walking ovation. It seems incredibly rude to the performers.