cargill

Bart, there is an interesting, (to me anyway, since I did the interview!) with Amanda McKerrow in Ballet Review (summer 2004) where she talks in some detail about what Tudor meant by the various pas de deux in Leaves are Fading, and how the "walking woman" was created.

I think the Russian, or rather Soviet tradition, encourages Albrecht to be an aristo cad, and Hilarion a wronged man of the people. But as I recall Nurevey darkened his Albrecht as he got older. I saw him do it late in his career as an out and out bounder, smirking everytime Giselle looked away, ignoring her when Hilarion is shaking her, just looking humiliated during the mad scene, and almost turning away during her final run to him. And then, once she was dead, it all came home to him. He just stood there and slowly reached out his hand to her skirt. It was, I think, the most moving and effective thing I have ever ever seen on stage anywhere, not just ballet. After 30 years, I can still see every detail. But I think when a dancer is young, a heedless Albrecht really in love with Giselle works very well. It is a great role, and can have numerous interpretations.

Derek Deane did a Giselle set in the 1920's, which seemed pretty bizarre from what I read. There have also been some productions where Bathilde and Myrtha were the same dancer (the doppelganger effect), but in general I think the story and the structure is so solid that it resists change. Though of course Petipa redid much of the choreography in act 2, so we don't really know what it looked like originally! Unfortunately by the time Paris saw the Russian version, the original had been long forgotten--it would be facinating to read about the differences.

I guess I count as a whiny type! Yes, it is a very traditional production, very lovely. My only whine is the peasant pas de deux, which uses a glitzed up Soviet version with lots of lifts and less style than usual but it is only a minor complaint. I would also rethink Bathilde a bit, since she seems a bit too over-the-top-angry, and not humilited enough. She glares at him like "there you go again!" (political non-sequitur--I couldn't help but think Hilary Clinton), while most of ABT's Albrechts play him as truly in love, rather than a practiceds philanderer. But it is a very solid and beautiful production.

I remember that Giselle with Malakhov--it is one of my most memorable performances. They were both so attuned to each other's interpretation, it was like watching a play. I remember especially in the first act, during the harvest scene, when my vision was partially blocked, that I could tell from watching her face the instance Albrecht reappeared, it was like a light coming on. Every second was alive and vivid, so much detail and nuance. Her second act was just emotion, you almost didn't see the steps. Malakhov, too, was so vivid in that second act, he was just aching to see Giselle one last time. I remember almost bawling through the whole 2nd act. I got to do an interview with McKerrow for Ballet Review, and she is a really interesting person to talk to, very intelligent. She talked a lot about working with Tudor, especially Leave are Fading, and what he said about that ballet. She also talked a lot about doing Giselle, and her approach and how she worked through it. Her Giselle is very very special, and I am so glad I get to see it one more time.

I too was quite struck by Rockwell's idea that this is a traditional version! I think that is one more reason why it is important for major ballet companies to try to keep to the story--if this is a traditional one, what on earth is a new one! I remember Christopher Wheeldon being interviewed about his (perfectly awful) version of Swan Lake for Pennsylvania saying that his basis was the (also quite bad) version that the Royal Ballet now does (how can you really take seriously a 19th century prince who hunts with a crossbow?), and his saying that Rothbart as an owl never made sense to him. To me that is just an amazing lack of imagination--how hard is it to figure out how ominous and frightening and powerful an owl's cry must have sounded to someone in a forest at night. Rothbart isn't sexy, he is the embodiment of an irrational evil, tricking Siegfried with Odile and by implication, a study of basic human powerlessness and the ultimate triumph of love (though not on this earth). ABT's version has none of this. It isn't medieval, it is early Renaissance, which is a very different period, one in which human thought and reason could triumph--a very different feeling than the lush romanticism of the music. ABT's court is a joke--peasants sit while nobles stand, they dance together, the Queen has no court, the nobles dance around the Maypole (a peasant custom if there ever was one.) Siegfried isn't looking for his soul mate, he seems to be looking for a hookup. All the jumping in the world won't give him the character that the traditional, more static and noble Siegfried has. ABT doesn't even give him the wonderful final scene in the first act, where he rushes off an empty stage to his destiny. The prologue is absurd, and destroys the wonderful entrance Petipa and Tchaikovsky developed for Odette, when Siegfried prepares us for the most beautiful and mysterious creature on earth. We have already seen her wondering around in her nightgown, something no princess would ever do. And the third act--I have gone on and on about that before! Rothbart isn't seducing the court, and if he is, then presumably we are being told that sex=evil, while at the same time having it rubbed in our face like so much soft porn. There is no mystery, no beauty, and no poetry in this glitzy version (even the white act is danced in front of a moon the size of New Jersey). It is hard to believe that anyone with the smallest knowedge of ballet history could call this traditional.

I was there last night and the audience LOVED it. Standing and cheering. There was a lot to cheer about, but for me, at least, it was Petipa's choreography, not the (to my mind) really tedious and flashy new choreography for Conrad. The odalesques were a real treat--Part in the turning role (she did fine, not Murphy of course, but her phrases were so gorgeous!), Ricetto in the first one, which suits her, and then Bystrova substituted for Abrerea as the middle one. She is a really lovely dancer, soft, with a beautiful upper body. Gulnare was Reyes, and she is my favorite in that role now that McKerrow and Tuttle don't do it--she made it demi-caracter, so that there was a real feeling that she was a captive, not just a dancer doing steps, but she didn't overplay it either. Her coda, with some wonderful turns, started the cheering. Kent had a few technical problems, but more than that she really flattened an already one-dimensional character by seeming so very very happy about everything. You got the feeling that if Conrad hadn't come by, she would have been just as happy with the Pasha or anyone else she happened to see. Corella was just wonderful as Ali. Of course he has some of the most interesting of the men's choreography, because it has a real flavor. Carreno was the slave merchant, and danced so well, but I missed the sleaziness that Malakhov gave--Carreno seems just too nice and too noble.

I was thinking about her recently, watching Les Sylphides. I saw her do it, and there was a simply magical moment, when she entered from stage left (in the pas de deux, I think), with her arm stretched forward and her head back, and with her eyes and wonderful carriage, it really seemed like someone from another world. The person sitting next to me and I just gasped at the same time. She was also incredible as the beautiful Tsarena in Firebird (though she didn't always catch the golden apples!), but I have never seen a more story book queen. Veronkia Part has some of that timeless quality.

Carolm, Leigh was referring to ABT's Swan Lake, which has been turned into a sort of a leatherboy fantasy (all the more dissapointing, because they had a reasonably traditional one set by David Blair), and NYCB, as the company least likely to do a good Swan Lake. They do a version set by Peter Martins, based on one he did for the Royal Danes, and has stark and quite ugly sets and by and large new choreography (the black swan pas de deux is traditional), which is very sub par. I don't think any American company does what might be called the real Swan Lake now, if by a real Swan Lake you mean Petipa and Ivanov's medieval meditation on fate and the power of love. NYCB has by and large focused on triple bills, but Balanchine did do a few full lenghts, Nutcracker, Midsummer, and of course Don Quixote, which is being revived soon by Farrell.

I also wonder how many times she has watched The Red Shoes.

She was certainly a great beauty. As I recall, she once said about herself that she was "pure as the driven slush."

That is so great that they are going to do it in NY! I was so jealous of Kansas City. I first saw Sarah Lane in the Studio Company and was tremendously impressed with her. An absolutely beautiful classical dancer.

About overacting, I think it may be part of the video problem--the dancers were not performing for the camera and its closeups, but for an audience several hundred feet away, so they often do look stagey and artificial--but believe me Fonteyn and Nureyev in person could make you cry, which is much more memorable in the long run that any amount of gasps.

Did anyone get to see Sarah Lane? The few times I have seen her featured in the ABT Studio company, I was remendously impressed with her poise as well as her technique, and I would love to know how she did.

I did get to see her, in her last years of performing, and to me she was ballet. Several people have said to me, in almost the same words, "You know, Fonteyn was wonderful, but the one I really loved was Beriosiva." (The is by no means a put down of Fonteyn, but Beriosova had a mystical, personal effect on people.) She had an amazing combination of weight and otherworldiness. She was simply magical as the beautiful Tsarena in Fokine's Firebird, and she had a timeless, impassive suffering quality in Les Noces. The only full length I saw her in was Cinderella, but I understand she was wonderful in Sleeping Beauty and Swan Lake. She did Coppelia when she was young, like Fonteyn, and was supposed to be adorable. I got a glimpse of her quality sometimes in Van Hamel, and Part has a remoteness that reminds me of her a bit.

I have been watching NYCB for a number of years, and I do think there has been a recent, and puzzling, loss of what I can only say is a classical rigor, including demeanor. I see it most in the Petipa and after-Petipa ballets. Peter Martin's Sleeping Beauty was really quite wonderful the first year (despite some of the flaws in the production); NYCB had some very good Auroras and some wonderful supporting dancers (though the music was TOO FAST). The last time--a couple of years ago--NYCB did it, they could barely struggle through it, falling off point, or just falling in general, not to mention not being able to keep in some degree of unison. They just looked weak overall, as well as stylistically completely at sea. Since Petipa was the basis for Balanchine, I don't think it is surprizing that some of their more classical Balanchine looks raw some of the time.

Again, I didn't read the whole article, just the bit quoted, so I may be off base here, but personally seeing and reading about some of the recent European opera productions, I am very glad I live in the benighted US. I don't think Mozart is improved by some of the very peculiar and deliberately provocative European productions. (Mozart or Shakespeare anyone else, for that matter.) Government subsidies insulate arts organizations for a lot of things, including the needs of the audience, yes even the need to be entertained. Booing and sucess de scandale aren't as much of a problem when it doesn't affect your box office. This of course, can be a good thing in terms of genuine experimenting, but deliberately insulting an audience by trying to be provocative is, to me, just the mirror image of deliberately courting an audience via market surveys, focus groups, etc. The artist (I use the term loosely!) in both cases, is looking over his shoulder at the audience, gauging their reaction, instead of following his own inspiration.

I voted for Sleeping Beauty, which is tough because the dancer must be three different types--Swan Lake only has two!

Probably companies are looking for full lengths, since they are so popular, and the music is simply glorious! The Royal Ballet's version was probably due to Ashton's 100th anniversary.

I remember years ago, I dreamed I substituted for Antoinette Sibley in Swan Lake with Anthony Dowell. I was not a great success.

My first thought when I read Rockwell's article was that maybe if dancers were paid more, they could buy some makeup. And my second thought was, what is his point! He does seem to confuse beauty with glamour, and it is not a glamorous age. Personally, I think most dancers would look better if their hair weren't so scraped back--the looser hair and the lower buns of the 50's I think is much more flattering, but of all the issues to raise, that is a pretty trivial one.

He is pushed into the lake and drowns. Or if the Trockaderos are doing it, he falls into the orchestra pit!

Yes, Sylve did Kammermusik a couple of years ago, and I thought she was absolutely wonderful! Power combined with feminity. I can still see her cutting through the air.

I think there are so many Ashtonisms in Cinderella; the wonderful characterizations of the sisters, so Dickensian in a way, so human yet still exaggerated. And the way the jester (at least originally!) was just not a step machine, but an emotional bundle as well. And the choreography for the stars is staggeringly, sharp and clear yet still recognizably Petipa based. It was so amazing to see it this summer next to Scenes de Ballet, and see the resemblance. The ball room pas de deux is so lovely, and I don't think we really need to see a final one--the slow walk up the stairs (or the glorious lift, depending on the version) is such a gentle unexpected ending that we don't need the crackerjacks. When you come to think of it, Swan Lake doesn't end with a great pas de deux either.

I'm sorry, but his messages specifically asked me to post them here, as you can see from the final sentence of his last message. I meant by my opening to say that I believed him. Mary Sorry, I should have added that he suggested I post his first reply as well.