Helene

Last Saturday I saw the magical Robert Lepage (& team) production of "Le Damnation de Faust" in an HD broadcast, a production that took a non-opera of scenes and mold them into a coherent whole in many non-conventional and creative ways. For that I was somewhat prepared, having read the advanced articles and publicity, as well as the vitriol of many opera goers who posted their own reviews outside the mainstream medium. I was not prepared, however, to knocked aground by a conventional production of "Eugene Onegin" by Vancouver Opera Tuesday night. In the program notes, musician Nicolas Krusek wrote, Based on the productions I'd seen before this, and most recordings I've heard, I did not recognize this description of the opera. If anything, I'd found the singing and the approach almost over-the-top in passion, and experienced passion (the exception being the mostly youthful cast I heard in 2005 at the Bolshoi), to the point of nearly bursting in the final scene, the epitome being the Galina Vishnevskaya/Georg Ots recording. To my shock Vancouver Opera's production fit Krusek's description of it, and if I had one word to describe it, I'd call it Canadian in temperament. I don't know of any Russian opera lovers who would have found it recognizable, apart from, maybe St. Petersburg native and clear audience favorite Oleg Balashov's Lensky, and then only in the second act. Like in Wagner, the dialogue and the arias blended; it was difficult to tell where to applaud, and the entire production was, with the exception of the party/crowd scenes, conversational and intimate. The young characters were young. In a directorial miss in the Party Scene, Onegin and Lensky go after each other after the duel challenge, only to be separated by other party guests, like hockey players by refs. (I don't believe that Onegin, a city sophisticate, would have participated in a fist fight.) Rhoslyn Jones' Tatyana didn't at the snap of a finger break into full-bodied passion in the letter scene. Yes, Onegin lit her flame, but her expression was of a girl who, deep in her books and thoughts, had never articulated these feelings before, and was trying them out and listening to herself voice them for the first time. Her voice has a sweetness that was poignant, and she showed the intelligence and native grace that would allow Tatyana to made a successful marriage in the city and to learn to become a princess, while all the while maintaining a freshness that made Prince Gremin recount his lucky stars in his beautiful third act aria. Lensky is equally naive, although as a male, he is convinced that his adolescent feelings and rigid classifications are gospel. Lovely as his great aria "Kuda, kuda" is, I sympathize with Olga's attempt to teach him a lesson, and want to slap him and tell him to grow up. Jeesh. Norine Burgess' Madame Larina was not the usual country dumpling; instead she had a lot of stature in the Act II ball scene. At first, I thought she was, in her own way, a role model for Tatyana as princess, but Jones showed little of her bearing in Act III. Brett Polegato has a beautiful, articulate voice with little vibrato. Although if he competed at Cardiff in 1995, he must be at least in his mid-30's, he was a convincing 26-year-old. My dilemma two days later is that I'm not sure if this was a good thing. If in no other place but the final act, I always expect pull-out-the-stops vocal fireworks, and neither he, until his final line, nor Jones did this. Polegato's Onegin in the final scene was a bit of a broken puppy, and it reminded me of Gelsey Kirkland's description of how Baryshnikov went into sad-boy-away-from-home-whose-mother-killed-himself mode as a seduction tactic. I know he can do passion: he wrenched more of it out of Gluck's "Iphigenie en Tauride" -- as Orest, and he was heart-breaking -- than he did out of Tchaikovsky. Jonathan Darling's conducting was fantastic through the first two acts, taking the music at a relatively fast pace, with a lot of brightness in the orchestra, and with a driving pulse. In the Act III Palace Scene, a number of things went south. While he may have been attempting to depict the boredom and superficiality of St. Petersburg society by taking the color out of the orchestra and having it drag, the scene, with the exception of Gremin's aria, sung with warmth and resonant low notes by Peter Volpe -- a highlight -- was enervated. Dramatically, the act suffered from the transition from the duel scene to the ball scene -- the intermission was after the Act II Scene I party/confrontation scene and the Act II Scene 2 duel scene -- in which the trees lifted from the bare stage, replaced by the columns of Gremin's palace as Onegin walked upstage, where two servants helped him change his tail coat and dress for the ball. This is the one place in the opera where there were supposed to be years between the scenes, and the direction made it look like Onegin walked off from the duel, had himself dusted off, and went straight to a party, bypassing years of self-recrimination and wandering. The scene also included two of my least favorite things in opera productions: freezing the chorus into tableaus while the leads sing and murky lighting, in direct contrast to the fantastic lighting for the rest of the opera. The sets by Neil Patel were superb, with autumnal trees in the opening and closing scenes in Act I and an intimate room for Tatyana in the Letter Scene, and a larger, but still intimate room for the final scene, inset into the stage. The lighting, which indicated time of day beautifully, was wonderful in all but the Palace Scene. The costumes by Patel were generally lovely, with a complementary color palate that was soothing to the eye, but the exception of the one that really mattered: while the fabric actually may have cost a fortune, Tatyana's dress in the Palace Scene, which should show her to glorious advantage, looked cheap and nouveau with it's sparkly, glittery, dance catalog texture, a dark blue miss with black satin opera gloves and a bright red hat (noted in the sung text). The dance segments, danced by four couples, blended into the action, and all of the lead characters joined them in more dancing than is usually seen or expected of lead singers. The acting was fantastic throughout, with special kudos to Allyson McHardy, who can dance, as well as act and sing. I'm still not sure what I think of the overall interpretation, but this production has me thinking still. --- Two more performances, tonight and Saturday night at 7:30 According to the intro notes in the program, for next year's 50th anniversary season, Vancouver Opera will perform John Adams' "Nixon in China" ("in an exciting new production that will be part of the Cultural Olympiad"), and in October 2010, the world premiere of "Lillian Alling", with John Corigliano's "Ghosts of Versailles" scheduled for 2011-12; the Metropolitan Opera has canceled its revival of the opera for next season.

I just saw "Tell No One", and there are two actresses who should be in the movie: Kristin Scott Thomas -- another option for LeClerq Nathalie Baye -- maybe Tallchief? She certainly can play gutsy. I don't have a sense of Geva to know if she'd be right for it. Christine Ricci is an alternative for Allegra Kent. I figured Baye was maybe mid-40's tops in the movie, but according to her bio, she was 58 when it was released. Unbelievable. http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000882/ We need actresses with charm for Danilova and Verdy, and my mind is drawing blanks.

I took a 3-day seminar at Jacob's Pillow the summer of 1986 for people interested in arts management for dance, and one of the first things that Sam Miller, then General Manager for Pilobolous, later head of Jacob's Pillow, said to us was that the big money for the arts comes from oil and tobacco, and if we had a problem with wjere money comes from, we shouldn't consider a career in arts management. Presumably Mr. Koch will come through with the money; Mr. Vilar didn't.

Not that long ago, these would be names from reviews, but between YouTube and the now-frequent tours by both the Bolshoi and Mariinsky -- however this has impacted them artistically -- many of us can see the names and kvell, having seen them perform.

I enjoyed reading your review, bart, and I, too, am glad that the dancers are growing and that the company is getting more solid and consistent artistically. It's an exciting and important time in a company's growth when younger dancers grow into roles that were once danced only by established stars.

If only I've never seen an usher interfere with anyone during a performance in four decades, and I used to go to student performances at the Met (although I've been told it happens). It was in Bregenz, so chances are there would have been shushing; in other parts of the world, an audience is polite if they don't make outgoing phone calls during the performance. I think the dialogue was spread out, intermittent, and short enough to raise the hackles of neaby audience members, but stop before the "shush" phase. What wasn't credible is that no one around them glared at all. But that was the least of the improbable in this movie.

I think that many great oral histories are those that are done and published in other mediums: Foremost is Barbara Newman's "Striking a Balance: Dancers Talking about Dancing", in which Ms. Newman's extensive interview materials are edited and fused into a streamless narrative format. She also captures "voices" although it is a printed work. This is one of my all-time favorite books of any kind. All of the Balanchine Foundation tapes of coaching sessions are oral histories "Ballets Russes"

I just came across a prime example in a photo capture on the International Figure Skating website. In the gala after Skate Canada, the Men's and Ladies' gold medallists, Patrick Chan and Joannie Rochette, both from Canada, were brought on the ice before they skated to subject themselves and the audience to silly banter. Rochette most certainly was not bemused by Chan's comment, and this is obvious from the photo (bottom left). http://www.ifsmagazine.com/forum/index.php...ost&id=1950

No, he was clothed most of the time, but it's Craig's face that the camera loves.

I saw "Quantum of Solace" this afternoon, and I was disappointed that none of the promise of "Casino Royale" was realized. The chase scenes and havoc became sillier and sillier, with a plane chase almost as absurd as the one in the Rambo movie that took place in Afganistan. At least in the Bruce Willis movie from several decades ago, when the glass shatters, he cuts his feet, minces in pain, and is immobilized. There was more broken glass in this than in just about any movie I've ever seen, and no one gets the equivalent of a paper cut. "Casino Royale" showed the crucible that made the man, or at least transformed him, and there was a sense of personal danger to him, not only to the people to whom he was personally and professionally attached. Not for a second in "Quantum of Solace" was it believable that Bond was in danger, or that anything that he had suffered along the way impeded him. Daniel Craig looks quite fine with his shirt off, but they cast a builky body builder as the guy from whom Bond steals a tux that fits perfectly. (About as believable as Melanie Griffith borrowing Sigourney Weaver's clothes in "Working Girl". ) Doesn't anyone edit these things for some semblance of continuity? Why do I think that is a rhetorical question? PLOT SPOILER ALERT: The ingredients for more than a special effects movie were there; why they even bothered with them instead of just blowing things up was the most frustrating thing about the movie because the director just left them lying in little piles: The former colleague whom through Bond's actions was imprisoned and tortured, the physical danger in which M was placed -- if it could happen to her, it could happen to anyone -- the organization that transcended nations but was completely under the radar of British Intelligence, Bond on his own after having been set up by the Bogota police, the state of mistrust, the fragile state of worldwide resources, etc. The movie could have been a nail-biter from beginning to end, but instead, it became a Hollywood blockbuster crossed with a (bad) TV movie: Giancarlo Giannini plays the former colleague who agrees to help Bond after a few minutes of less-than-profound dialogue, and is, as expected, killed in the attempt and speaks a bunch of platitudes about forgiveness before dying in Bond's arms; the scene invokes zero emotion. The assassination attempt on M was brushed under the rug after a minor crisis of confidence. (Ugh, and they make Judi Dench speak the most obvious comments.) Bond puts back six martinis and pays lip service to Vesper, but he could have been drinking because his car was scratched or because he occasionally became morose and got wasted. More and more platitudes about vengeance, and to complete the picture, a buffoon CIA character. The gorgeous Olga Korylenko has the only emotionally satisfying scene in the movie, where she is in incredible danger and with a great, prolonged effort kicks the butt of a murderous former dictator/general. Bond has a flicker of emotion at the very end: although she isn't his love interest in this movie, before she leaves, he kisses her, and it isn't sexual, but a short and swift cry for an emotional connection. This movie could have been as tense and as gut-wrenching as "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy" with a few doses of cars and car chases and things blowing up as a bow to the franchise. Instead, it was a crucible of for turning an interesting character into a cartoon. It had no place to breathe, and was as relentless as a Jorma Elo ballet. That said, it has Daniel Craig in it, and I'd pay to see him in a lot worse. I really loved the "Tosca" scenes, even if there were a bit of a rip-off of "The Godfather". And the main villain, Dominick Greene, was played by Mathieu Amalric, who resembled a shorter version of former PNB dancer Christophe Maraval.

I haven't seen a lot of Soviet dance films, but my favorite slo-mo takes (and repeats) are Vassiliev's leaps as Spartacus. From what I've seen, there were some thoughtful attempts to make ballet movies during Soviet times, not just taping of performances, but trying to use the medium to clarify the action in story ballets, particularly politically based ones, and tighten it for a TV audience. Similar things happened with some British ballet films.

If the flames had been interesting, and not like the Channel 11 Yule Log multiplied several dozen times, I wouldn't have found it so heavy handed. Oh yes, and I loved how they opened up across the stage!!!Many thanks for the ID on James Levine.

There was dancing in it, and it actually was ballet. The women used the balcony railings like a barre at times, and I thought the movement suited their roles and the music. My favorite physical gesture wasn't on stage: it was the tiniest pause Levine made during his walk through the entrance hall to orchestra pit after he confirmed verbally that everyone was ready for him; he then made his commitment to go forward. that they cut this into a DVD! Edited to Add: If one shuts one's eyes, there's nothing to interfere with the singing

Any chance to see LeBlanc in anything is worth it, and she's partnered with my favorite male dancer in the company, Gennadi Nedvigin. (I've got incense burning in the hope that she'll dance Odette/Odile and he'll partner her in one of the two "Swan Lakes" I'll see in February.) If there's absolutely no way to make that performance, Maria Kochetkova is a beautiful dancer, but I don't have enough of a sense about her to guess what her Giselle would be like.

I loved this production, with two exceptions: I thought the video of flames during Marguerite's great final aria was heavy-handed, and the other was a minor quirk, probably specific to the movie: as Marguerite ascended to heaven, there was some small white thing happening in video behind her, and I couldn't make it out. I loved the water scenes so much more than Bill Viola's in his "Tristan und Isolde" -- they had much more flow and complemented the music perfectly. Despite the title, the two main characters are the orchestra and choruses, and both were superb. I like Giordani in this music; there haven't been heroic French tenors like Georges Thill for decades, although Jonas Kaufmann gave it a go in his latest CD, but I liked the more subtle approach he took to the role, actually vocalizing an older man in his opening aria, with a hint of the virility Faust had as a younger man. (In this age, he'd just order Viagra over the Internet and pretend he was 25 again.) I love how dramatically in this "Faust", Faust doesn't sell his soul to the devil to get Marguerite: with the help of Mephistopheles, he gets her, uses her up, and dumps her. It is only to save her that he sells his soul. John Relyea: Mephistopheles is the best role I've ever seen him in, dramatically and vocally. Where do I sign?

Yes!!!! Perfect for Mortensen as Martins.

Apollinaire Scherr wrote a brief tribute to Barnes in her blog "foot in mouth": http://www.artsjournal.com/foot/2008/11/cl...7-2008_rip.html

Not a contemporary actress, but maybe Agnes Moorehead in her Bewitched days. Meryl Streep can be ascerbic enough, but she doesn't look tough in the same way. Maybe Juliet Stephenson could play Karin von Aroldingen, who, at least when interviewed on film, has a combination of warmth and wryness. A young Helen Mirren could have played Tanaquil Leclerq, at least the sensual Leclerq from the "Afternoon of a Faun" film with d'Amboise.

I don't think there's an actress in her teens, 20's, or 30's that could compete with the young Maria Tallchief's beauty (ETA), but Faye Dunaway is a stroke of genius. My cast, ignoring that they'd never all be the right age (or alive) at the right time, and the accents would be all over the place: Allegra Kent: Ludivine Sagnier, the young actress from "Swimming Pool" Conrad Ludlow: Leslie Howard Vera Zorina: Lena Olin Suzanne Farrell: Juliette Binoche Edward Villella: Al Pacino Jacques d'Amboise: Bill Nye (The Science Guy) Lincoln Kirstein: Orson Welles For Balanchine, maybe Charlie Chaplin.

In his statement, I thought that the underlying question was what made Shakespear turn into the "great" one, as opposed to his contemporaries, with analogy of what made Balanchine become the "great" one compared to his great contemporaries, like Ashton and Tudor. While he then goes on for several pages to explain this in artistic terms, towards the end, he writes: Part of the answer to the underlying question is institutional and luck-based. We've discussed on Ballet Talk, and it was a major theme of Martin Duberman's "The Worlds of Lincoln Kirstein" that what we consider a given, the success of Balanchine and New York City Ballet, was so tentative for so long. But then we consider the irony of the man who always said it would fall apart after his death, and "who cares?", to have had an institution that ensures that what happened to Ashton and Tudor does not happen to his works, at least in the near term, and a "family" that has extended his work across the US and the world.

"Feh" is dismissive, with a mixture of non-vague contempt and disapproval. "Meh" is something you can't even get worked up about.

I don't know of any other playwright who has been translated into as many languages and is part of standard curriculum, advanced scholarship, and performance as Shakespeare, nor has been adopted informally as a national playwright by other countries, such as Russia and Germany. If not the world's greatest playwright, Shakespeare has proven to be the most important playwright of the last half millenium by those standards. Love of Shakespeare is not universal. Once of my favorite fictional responses was by Gunilla Dahl-Soot in Robertson Davies' "The Lyre of Orpheus", who called him a "grocer".

After watching the reconstruction of parts of "La Bayadere" in Doug Fullington's "Balanchine's Petipa" (Part II) presentation, I am guardedly hopeful that, someday, we might see this, or at least the Shades act. It would be such an opportunity for the Company and Seattle to host a symposium on the work or on reconstruction in general, culminating in a performance that PNB had more than a few days to prepare.

I thought she did some lovely adagio work in "Ballet Imperial" last April at City Center. I hope her new coach can work with that and get rid of the extensions. I think the biggest challenge is the blank look she seemed to have midway through everything I saw her in last spring. I know that ballerinas don't have to be PhD's, but generally they have a clue, or are receptive enough to be given one by the best.

I always thought "meh" meant "It isn't worth having an opinion about."