Helene

Tallchief herself said this in so many interviews, including several on tape, in the context of looking back to see why Balanchine married her. She said he saw her "as material", and that he had already had the new company in mind and wanted to ensure her loyalty to the enterprise and to be sure that her energy and focus was on their work together. Tallchief was the center of Balanchine's artistic focus at the time, and it wasn't even as if he found her perfect. She relates several anecdotes on film, such as how her muscles became elongated after studying with Balanchine, how Balanchine watched her warm up before a performance doing her "lousy barre" and told her that if she "could just do battement tendu well, that was all [she'd] need to know" -- which she took to mean that she needed to get back to the drawing board -- and how when he cast her with Tanaquil Leclerq, whom he had trained since she was a child, in "Symphony Concertante" that Balanchine wanted her to move like Leclerq, and that the ballet was a teaching ballet, and even as the de facto star of the company, she did not feel exempt from being taught. Just the excerpts shown in the PBS Balanchine bio are superb. I only met the father of my Somerville, MA roommate once or twice; he and her mom were early NYCB goers and may have been members of Ballet Society. (On a ballet weekend in NYC, my roommate even brought me to the second floor Japanese restaurant in the 50's that was her parents pre-NYCB-at-City-Center dinner haunt at a time when Japanese food in street-level restaurants meant grill.) His face lit up as he recounted Tallchief. He said he had never seen anything like her energy and speed in "Firebird" before or since.

According to the link on their official website -- thank you, leonid -- the Matvienkos have confirmed that they have joined the Mariinsky: According to the bio section, Denis Matvienko turned 30 a little over a week ago (23 Feb). This is quite a birthday present!

Many thanks for your review! I hope to see the Company on a future trip to Europe.

Denial. I regard those as representative of ballet as the Barbie doll is of an actual woman. Edited to add: I love the dancing in "What's Opera, Doc?", even if the turnout is inconsistent.

[Admin Beanie] Just a reminder that when dancers leave and join companies, when posting the news, official sources must be cited, like leonid's reference to the Mikhailovsky Ballet's official website in the post above, or links to newspaper or magazine articles or official dancer websites (not fan sites), or official company announcements (press releases, stage announcements, etc.) [/Admin Beanie]

I'm reading of number of accusations of personal vendetta, but I'm not reading any substantiated examples or quotes. Macaulay has given his reasons in his reviews, and it would be helpful to argue against specific points. I disagree with his criticism of Whelan, for example, but he's listed specifics with which I disagree.

What makes the entire video worth it for me is Bart Cook's "Melancholic", and there are parts of the solo that are very different than the versions being performed today.

And the Bathildes

I was so happy to see footage of him in the recent American Masters documentary on Jerome Robbins -- I remember how sad we all were about his death. It was in mid-February 1986, just barely over 23 years ago. There was a photo memorial to him in an issue of Ballet Review, and an article which noted that he was treated for depression by more than one professional. He had made a dramatic breakthrough in the season or two before his death. Once primarily a self-effacing and elegant partner, he became a true leading man, charismatic and vivid in roles like the last movement of "Brahms/Schoenberg Quartet" and "Who Cares?", and he was superb in the matinee performance of the First Movement of "Symphony in C" the day before his suicide.

Way to go, Marga!!!!

I think that on TV that is pronounced, "Faaaaaaaaaaa bulous".

Thank you so much, PeggyR! When this is revived, Kochetkova is first on my list to see. I thought she stole "The Nutcracker" film, and I'm looking forward to seeing her live. Edited to add: I went to Baguette Express and was chatting with the very nice owner, when he asked how I found his shop. I told him that a friend from an online community had just been there and had recommended it, and he was surprised and delighted! I had the vegetarian (spicy), and they were delicious. I was heading to Sai Jai Thai, but was distracted by the menu at the (fancier) Bang Sai Thai. Not only is it Halal, but they have vegan vegetarian options which don't use fish sauce, and a combination eggplant and tofu dish. (Usually, I've found that eggplant alone is the other veggie option instead of tofu or mixed vegetables.) The tofu was firm and baked, and the dish was fantastic, as was their sticky rice and mango dessert, which came with half a mango. I'll save Sai Jai Thai for my next visit. I don't know how you chose, Leigh. It would take me two years to eat my way across 10 blocks of Larkin.

I think that "fabulous" has changed its usage from its teen fanzine days and has been co-opted by adults. I'm afraid that today's teen-speak is text-speak, and no word has a more than the maximum of four letters, u c. I had an easier time understanding the French surtitles to "Lady Macbeth in Msensk" at Paris Opera Ballet than a text message I received from a 15-year-old friend of the family. (And I still don't know how the "Kos" in "Daily Kos" is supposed to be pronounced.)

Some notes about the mortals in this performance. First among mortals was Joan Boada. In Russia, he would never be cast as the Prince: he's probably too short, and if there is any dancer to whom I would compare him, it would be Jock Soto: dark, muscular, with juicy plies, full-bodied movement, a balanced symmetry, and a refined virility. Ivan Popov was the perfect Prince type, and I thought his performance was superb, but Boada affected me in a quite different way: while there are plenty of Siegfrieds with whom I've empathized over the years, I don't think I've fallen for one since Ivan Nagy, when I was 14. Boada was a beautiful partner, and ardent man, and all of his solos were fully formed and beautifully phrased. The Black Swan Pas de Deux felt complete and like the narrative and dramatic center of Act III as a result. While I'm still a bit dubious about the version of the Pas de Trois in this production, this afternoon it was danced with lightness, clarity, and proportion by Clara Blanco, Isaac Hernandez, and Elizabeth Miner. I couldn't recognize either dancer with the Jane Austen wigs (or hairpieces), and neither was blond, but it almost didn't matter, they were both so well-balanced. Hernandez was superb, with a slight delay in his double tours, landed in full plie and then onto the next movement, all on one continuous phrase, just a beautiful performance. (One of the great joys of LeBlanc's performance was a similar quality on the horizontal plane: in the White Swan Pas de Deux, she never hit a position and stopped. Even in supported attitude penche promenades, the outward energy from her limbs was palpable.) Hernandez was also terrific as a replacement in Spanish for Anthony Spaulding, who gave another fantastic performance as von Rothbart, and who was properly booed as the villain during the curtain calls. Miner was charming and light in the Neopolitan, and Elana Altman was once again dynamic and formidable in Spanish. Ludmila Campos was more evenly matched with Nutnaree Pipit-Suksan as the "big" swans in Act II, which created balance and symmetry; Pipit-Suksan later danced a fine Russian, paired with the wonderful Frances Chung. The four cygnettes were wonderfully precise without being robot-like, but the audience giggled on queue. Pascale Leroy's Queen was more unimaginative and unquestioning than Odile-like in this performance; the other night, it was clear what the Prince saw in van Patten's Odile: Mom. This afternoon, the transformation from woman to swan in the Prologue elicited gasps for as far as I could hear in the Dress Circle and received a spontaneous round of applause. The projections of the two swans flying away at the end got oohs and aahs. Someone got the pulse of the audience correctly. I think that the image of Odette when she is hit by the spell is so arresting, that the transformation isn't needed, nor is anything needed to distract from the breathtaking image of the swans, in lines facing upstage, separating the prone von Rothbart from the dead lovers, and then transforming into the wedge on the floor. I can't say enough about how wonderful the corps was. I don't know about the rest of the house, but aside from some coughing, this was about as perfect an audience as I've been in. There were at least a dozen kids in my section, and they didn't move or make a sound during the entire ballet. One dad laughed a guy's knowing laugh when the Queen pressed Siegfried to choose among the princesses. (Yup, those women are always pressing the marriage angle ) But that was about the only peep I heard all afternoon. No jangling bracelets, no talking, no cell phones, no watches chirping on the hour, no sniffling or coughing or choking from noxious perfume baths, no cellophane unwrapping, no sandwich chomping. It was a miracle that was replicated at the Jordi Savall and Le Concert des Nations "The Stage Music in the Plays of William Shakespeare" concert I heard tonight at the First Congregational Church in Berkeley, part of the Cal Performances concert series. Composers were Robert Johnson, Mattiew Locke, and Henry Purcell, almost all music for dance, and the audience was completely still for this first rate, superb ensemble, until the encore, when Mr. Savall asked us to be the percussion through rhythmic clapping. Not only was the audience quiet throughout the concert, but they followed directions, and there wasn't a misclap or miscue in the house I think I've used up all of my good audience karma in one day!

All of the supported pirouettes this afternoon were amazing and fluid. Boada was a wonderful partner. Please tell us all about the Kochetkova performance! (I won't be able to be there.)

The Metropolitan Opera has replaced cash collateral for a loan with the two Chagalls that hang in the window, according to New York Magazine. http://nymag.com/news/intelligencer/55026/ I wonder to whom the Elie Nadelman statues in the New York State Theater belong.

My superstitions got the better of me, and when I found out that Tina LeBlanc was scheduled for today's matinee, one of my two tickets, I couldn't rejoice prematurely. (Or even tell anyone I would be there.) When there was no substitution slip in the program, I still didn't quite believe it. When the substitution announcement before the performance was made, it was Anthony Spaulding replacing Damian Smith, but I still had my worries. Even after her delicate and ravishing Odette in Act II, I was still at edge: the one time I saw Evelyn Cisneros, years ago, her partner was injured during Act II, LeBlanc completed the ballet, and the irony was too hard to miss. (I could, though, at least be thankful that I had seen her in both roles, albeit a decade or so apart.) It wasn't until she appeared in Act III, a confident Odile who needed no "ta-das" or mannerisms, but who clearly revelled in the Con, playing the good girl and convincing everyone, that I could relax. By the end of her Act IV Pas de Deux (with Joan Boada), I could barely breathe. This was a performance by a master ballerina, her last Odette/Odile with San Francisco Ballet. What is amazing is that in the year of her retirement, in her 40's, having recovered from what would have been a career-ending injury for most, the work was still transparent, and the dancing astonishing. I've loved LeBlanc for many years, and today's performance was a great gift

Postlewaite as Tony is just Central Casting (I would have loved to have seen him as Nardo.) I'll be away from Seattle the first weekend , and things have been so crazy, I never even posted about Jewels last month... I hope that my free days for weekend 2 match with different casts. I was really sad not to have seen Rachel Foster's "Rubies" and Kaori Nakamura's "Diamonds"

Many thanks Amitava! I'm looking forward to reading more reviews. A new young friend is in the production, and our mutual friend told me he was going to travel to Houston to see it. I'll ask him for his impressions, and try to find out more than how [kid's name] was

I think it was Louise Nadeau who, in a "Jewels" post-performance Q&A, said that the dancers had to audition for the roles in "West Side Story". It wouldn't be the first time that PNB dancers were asked to sing: I remember how surprised I was when they burst into song in "Silver Lining". Now, if they'd only release the casts, I could plan my second weekend...

From the music world, I remember going to see a world premiere by composer George Walker, who has written some tough 20th century scores. I loved the piece, but when I read the program notes, there were three or four paragraphs of dense, technical musical explanation that went right over my head, but I remember his closing line: "I would like to thank my mother."

Thank you so much for your review, Krystin! I saw this production when it premiered a few years ago and loved it, but wasn't able to travel this year for it. Then, the Juliets were Natalia Magnicaballi and Paola Hartley, and it's exciting to see young dancers like Smith and Huang given the chance to assume the role, with Magnicaballi portraying Lady Capulet and Hartley the Nurse. I would have loved to have seen Ross Clarke's Romeo, too, and Astrit Zejnati's Tybalt was so vivid, so different from his Romeo. (I see from the cast list that he was given one performance in this run.) I, too, hope this run was a great success financially, and that more companies produce Andersen's version, like Kansas City Ballet did this year. It should be a keeper.

Most Bollywood movies have an intermission. When I saw "Slumdog Millionaire" for the second time it was in Hyderabad, and they put a short intermission in before the last game segment. Many thanks for your review, Mashinka -- I would have loved to have been there to hear it.

I'd travel for that. Many thanks for the ID on Altman. It was small compared to the one in Ming Cho Lee's setting for Pacific Northwest Ballet that plays later this season.

Helgi Tomasson's new production of "Swan Lake" begins with a projection of moonlight on lake, a projection on a scrim and two inner curtains, and it looks like shimmering silver crushed velvet. As the overture plays, the scrim rises, and a young woman in an empire-waist diaphonous dress -- the type seen often on Masha/Clara in "The Nutcracker" -- enters and sits by the lake. On the other side of the stage, von Rothbart slivers off a rock, startles her, and, eventually traps her. She seems to escape as she runs behind the curtains to the center of the stage, but his spell makes her freeze, collapse, and, through projections, she is morphed into a swan. Unfortunately, dancers are much more lovely and graceful than swans, so it seems a bit hokey, but perhaps that, too, shows how Odette was diminished. Jonathan Femson's set for Act I is a rather forboding palace exterior. Siegfried, in this performance Ivan Popov, makes his entrance, and he is in a happy mood. He accepts toasts with Benno and Wolfgang at his side, socializes, and joins the quintet of aristocratic ladies, with whom he is at ease, as if they were cousins growing up together. All is well, until Mom -- a cross between the Countess and Carabosse in a giant Marie Antoinette wig -- enters, gives him the crossbow (things are still looking good, although Mom is scary), and then tells him he must marry. Talk about taking the buzz off. I never knew that the Pas de Trois was performed to try to get his mind off of his impending marriage decision. Then six aristocratic children ask if they can dance, and eventually lure Wolfgang in with them, then the peasants, who perform the Polonaise. Siegfried and Wolfgang are heads down in a book during most of these two dances. Is it the "Complete Book of Royal Etiquette" and are they looking for loopholes, like "Prince cannot marry after King dies before a year's mourning is over" or "Prince born in a leap year must marry in a leap year"? Finally, the Prince dances a brooding, introspective solo, not that it was necessary, because he's made his mood quite clear for the last 10 minutes, but it was musically responsive and showed off Popov's beautiful line, carriage, and turnout. Then, Siegfried runs off to hunt. Act II takes place by the lake. At the back of the stage is a rising rock formation, and the moon shines over it. It is a more powerful and oppresive image than the standard forest. The standard dances are in this production -- Valse Bluette, repeated, Pas de Deux, Dance of the Cygnettes, Dance for two swans, coda -- but even more, the Odette's mime is performed. I almost cried with happiness. I loved the swan wigs, a variation on the "duck" do from the 1950's that made the swans look sleek. And I really loved how, at the end of the act, on an empty stage, Siegfried swears to her. I think that in the way Tomasson creates a multi-layered society and establishes the hierarchy within it, this is the most dramatically coherent Act I of "Swan Lake" that I have ever seen. Each dance not only characterizes the group, but is tight in structure and full of invention that never veers into cleverness. The long Polonaise was particularly fine, with interweaving and changing patterns and groupings. Apart from the Prince's solo, which is in many productions, the one miss in Act I was the Pas de Trois. If there was a subtitle to this "Swan Lake", it's "If You Can't Follow This You Don't Have A Pulse". Tomasson doesn't dumb it down, but he foreshadows, and not just narrative, but also steps and gestures. In the Pas de Trois, for example, one of the soloists does fouettes, and the man's solo, particularly the circle of jumps, it seemed like the jester was making an appearance, but perhaps the performance quality led me to this conclusion. Of the three dancers -- Dores Andre, Hansuke Yamamoto, and Nutnaree Pipit-Suksun -- I think Andre was the strongest, but even in her last solo, I lost the dance logic. Sarah van Patten made her debut as Odette/Odile. Wow. She was not a delicate creature, and I found her strength mixed with elegance as Odette extremely moving. What made her interpretation unique in my experience was how she differentiated Odette from Odile from the waist up, mostly with her arms and hands. From the waist down, she was very similar in both roles. Her arms and hands weren't fussy, but they were clearly deliberate and differentiated. Her legs move best in creamy, expansive movement, and I was very impressed by how in the Act II solo, when the music speeds up, she did not change the quality of her turns; many dancers I've seen switch into allegro/Odile-like mode here. The few times she had to go turbo-allegro -- the Act II coda, in the passe beat sequence and in the Black Swan solo -- it didn't quite fit like the entire rest of the performance. She was a convincing Odile -- and she did not downplay any of Odile's badness -- because half of her was a convincing Odette at almost all times. The corps was sharp and disciplined, if their opening entrance was on the aerobic side. The patterns and images were breathtaking. Kudos to the corps, in this and the final act. I think Balanchine was right to drop the Dance of the Four Cygnettes: the audience giggles on queue when the four dancers tilt their heads to the side repeatedly, and it's right after the ravishing pas de deux. (I also think he was right to give Odette the flying entrance in the coda, instead of stopping the standard build-up with the Makarova-slow repeat for the diagonal fouettes downstage, which then shifts into overdrive for the passe/beat sequence.) Tomasson stuck to the standard outline, but in the two solo swans' coda part, he added touches like giving them Rothbartian jumps, just so we wouldn't forget that these are women in his service. The two swans were Elena Altman and Ludmilla Campos. I've never seen Campos before, and I'm not sure which dancer was which, but one was taller and more in every way: energy, expansiveness, and musicality. I wondered what her Odette would be like, she was that vivid. Act III opens in a sterile ballroom at the bottom of a staircase that curves up to both sides and continues in a circle towards the flies, like a ring of Saturn, through which the moon shines; it is almost as if the moon were harnessed and trapped. The costumes for Siegfried are one of the few misses; Siegfried looks less formally dressed at his formal party: in Act I, his tights are white, but here he wears grey jacket, tights, and boots. The party looks oddly sparsely populated. The act begins with the Master of Ceremonies -- an impressive corps member, Aubert Vanderlinden, who has the stature of a long-time character dancer -- introducing each of the foreign princesses: Spanish, Czardas, Neopolitan, and Russian. There were two reasons they were princesses: 1. It says so in the program and 2. The Queen wants him to choose one of them later in the act. Each of these dances is a treat, and the most wonderful and impressive thing about them is the way they balance the focus between the men and the women in each dance. That makes very much sense for dance, but not much sense dramatically, since if they are here to compete for the Prince, I'd think they'd have to be presented like jewels, however ethnically inflected. Elana Altman led a spirited Spanish, flanked by two terrific men, Gaetano Amico and Brett Bauer. She had such deep arch in her back, and her nape-length mantilla practically grazed her skirt. Pauli Magierek, with flaming red hair, was perfect as the lead in Czardas, using the inflections of her neck, shoulders, and hands to infuse character in the role. Dores Andre and Martyn Garside were delightful in the playful Neopolitan, which had a stroke of genius: Andre went into passe on point, held it, and then clapped overhead! The women's roles in the Russian were happy and light, full of spark and cheer, countered by the Cossack-inspired men, here Matthew Stewart and James Sofranko. The two styles meshed together beautifully, and the women, Frances Chung and Charlene Cohen, really turned it on in the fast turns in place at the end. Femson's costumes for the international dances were particularly beautiful. After the Russian Dance, the Queen gathers the women from these dances, and asks Siegfried to pick. This was the first dramatically dissonant moment for me, because the only one who showed any aristocratic character was Magierek, who would have had Popov's Siegfried for an appetizer, and if these are princesses, why are the men their equals instead of presenting them? My secret desire was for the five aristocrats from Act I to do the Princesses dance -- symmetry and foreshadowing and all -- and for Siegfried to show the same ease with them, only to be shocked when Mom asks him to choose one of them. But, as he registers shock and dismay, von Rothbart and Odile arrive, the Black Swan Pas de Deux happens, the fouettes are finished, the audience stops the show to applaud them, and then the fatal moment comes, and it's such a great moment, because the mime is so clear: von Rothbart: Wait a minute! Siegfried: What? vR: Do you love her? S: Of course I love her. vR: Do you want to marry her? S: Is the Pope Catholic? vR: Swear then. [if this were an audience in India, they'd be standing and yelling, "DON'T DO IT!!!!!] S: I swear. I'm glad I didn't have an aisle seat, because I would have done a tap dance. Yes, clear mime! Yes, no dumbing it down for the audience, which got it! During the ensuing mayhem, Siegfried even shows some moxie, and dives for von Rothbart, but vR has a bit more experience in street fighting, and throws him to the ground. Act III morphs into Act IV, and there are more beautiful patterns and entrances by the swan corps, and von Rothbart lifts and partners Odette for a few phrases, establishing his ownership. Tomasson has choreographed an Act IV pas de deux for Odette and Siegfried that begins with the corps in the background, and slowly the corps gives them privacy. I've been watching dry, intellectual, mathematical ballets by Tomasson for over a decade. I'm convinced that he saved 15 years of emotional content for this one pas de deux, because while its vocabulary is classical, it is emotional verismo, the Mimi-Is-Dying-Box-of-Kleenex kind. Move over Anne Hathaway, Marian Cotillard, Halle Berry, et. al., because Sarah van Patten was heartbreaking. While not exactly a happy ending, there is redemption and justice: as Siegfried and von Rothbart vie for Odette, the corps breaks von Rothbart's grip, Odette's and Siegfried's love weakens von Rothbart, and finally does him in, as first Odette, and then Siegfried, run up to the peak of the rock and fling themselves to their deaths. Two swans are seen flying across the moon, as von Rothbart lies prone downstage right, and the swans form a wedge facing the downstage left corner, on the ground, one leg facing front, arms back in flight, a knockout image for an ending. Just a note: if even Marcelo Gomes can't quite transcend ABT's Swamp Thing, I never expected a von Rothbart to be so, um, appealing, but Anthony Spaulding -- it's a good thing I was equipped with smelling salts.