Helene

That's great -- I thought this recording had only a few excerpts, but it's got everything, including the now rarely-performed "Liza."

In Kent Stowell's production of The Nutcracker, he interpolated the Mozartean pastorale from Tchaikovsky's Queen of Spades into the Act I party scene. Three dancers perform a "masque" and re-enact the story of the Nutcracker, Mouse King, and Princess Pirlipat from the original story. (The first is at the beginning of the ballet, when three children in character emerge from "under the stage" of Maurice Sendak's set to enact the story.)

To my ear, these two comments are equal in generalization. The difference between them, however, is that while ostrich's can be countered by science and a quick glance at the feet of DTH dancers, eland's comment reflects a personal opinion/aesthetic, which may be closer the answer. If you look at the people who are Artistic Directors of the major companies in America, many fall into two categories: former Balanchine dancers, mostly from the US, and European born (mostly) baby-boomers. Some fall into both categories. European-born baby boomers, like Boston Ballet AD Mikko Nissenen, were, on the whole, born and raised in primarily homogeneous societies where racism was largely (and sometimes smugly) seen as America's and South Africa's problem. Former Balancine dancers running companies today were likely colleagues of Arthur Mitchell, a NYCB Principal Dancer. Dance is one of the few arts where the artist must be seen in order to be chosen. In his recent book Blink, Malcolm Gladwell writes about the change of the face of symphony orchestras in America, due to completely blind auditions. In many cases classical singers are first heard on tape, where an instant impression (for better or worse) is made on the Artistic Director, and s/he must undo his/her own positive impression upon actually seeing the singer's race, age, or weight. (Which isn't to say it doesn't happen, but the first impression is made blind.) Physical presence isn't necessary for any of the plastic arts. A painting hangs on a wall or a sculpture sits on a pedestal without the artist being in sight. What dancers are chosen is at the behest of the taste and aesthetics of the Artistic Director, except where a specific type is needed to fill a role (ex: tall man to partner ballerina X). If it is true that black students are in the top schools, they are auditioning, and they are not chosen in direct proportion to either numbers or talent, then it is the AD's who are choosing based on a different aesthetic or, to an extent, the "personality" that they assume would be successful (at least according to their own definition). Were a Marketing Director to say to an AD, "A black dancer would reach out to a new and underserved market," or anyone else to opine that by hiring a black (or Latino in some areas) would do wonders for community relations, what is the chance that the AD wouldn't respond with an argument about artistic integrity? Is it likely that an AD going to exclaim to the world, "I am a racist, and I think black women can't dance?" or even "My audience isn't ready to accept a black ballerina?" Until either black dancers publish their own experiences to the contrary, Arthur Mitchell or other prominent black dancers say s/he was used as a token, white colleagues "expose" specific examples of racism, or a tape is leaked of an AD making deliberately racist comments, we won't know if and how much of the artisitic decisions are made because of racism, and we can only speculate. The upshot is that AD's don't have to justify their hires.

We haven't found any online reviews yet. Your best bet for reviews in the New York press is to check out the Links section over the next few days. For viewer reviews on this board, you should keep an eye on the American Ballet Theater forum or come back to this forum (Recent Performances). It sometimes takes a few days for a review to show up in The New York Times, and people often sit down to formulate their thoughts and post their reviews over the weekend.

I don't think I've ever heard that term before -- I love it!

Or perhaps the Anne Bancroft character in The Turning Point? Suzanne Farrell has the backing of Michael Kaiser, perhaps the greatest ballet manager of the late 20th and early 21st century, and, through him, the institutional support of The Kennedy Center. She has had a remarkable career as a stager, including as one of the first two people to stage Balanchine ballets for the Kirov/Mariinsky. She has a small, part-time company that bears her name and a thriving career as a teacher. She is hardly sitting around with nothing but "a dog and her ballet memories."

The 1993 clip was from the last day of the 1993 Spring Season, a special afternoon-to-evening program at the end of the Balanchine Celebration. I attended many performances of that entire season including this gala -- so many Balanchine ballets! -- and there was a different feeling in the air during it, a combination of the end-of-Spring-Season exhaustion/exhilaration, and a feeling of tribute to the Master. It was not exactly indicative of the Company's dancing that season. Byars, Killian, and Reyes joined NYCB during the last years of Balanchine's life. They may not have had lots of individual attention -- Killian's graduation classmate, Darci Kistler, got much of it during Balanchine's last years -- however, they were still educated during the last productive, albeit limited, period of Balanchine's life in the late 70's and early 80's. Byars was the son of a NYCB orchestra musician (I believe a clarinetist), had known Balanchine for a long time, and was raised in the "family" since he was a young boy. The difference between performances by those who had been reared by Balanchine personally and those that weren't was noticeable during the decade after his death. That isn't to say that everyone who came after was automatically worse, but there was a change in emphasis and detail among many of the dancers who came after his time, and not entirely among the corps.

If you are giving an overview lecture, then it might be helpful to break it down into the main periods/influences of Balanchine's life: a. Youth through Mariinsky training, the War and revolutionary period, and the escape to Europe. b. Diaghelev and freelance Europe c. Coming to America -- starting the school, Metropolitan Opera, Broadway and Hollywood years, intermittent ballet jobs (Ballet Caravan, etc.) d. Ballet Society and New York City Ballet City Center years. e. NYCB Lincoln Center years (Ford Foundation influence on SAB students, large theater, company expansion) If you are able to do a "show and tell" using VHS and DVD clips, then I'm sure your audience would appreciate seeing what you're describing. You could also illustrate threads of influence throughout Balanchine's life. For example, when discussing his Mariinsky training, using Ballet Imperial and Diamonds as the direct descendants of that tradition, as well as showing the use of children in Nutcracker (he danced Candy Cane in St. Petersburg) and A Midsummer Night's Dream (one of his earliest happy memories of performing, again as a student). When discussing the years in Europe, you could show Symphony in C, whose first incarnation as Palais de Cristal was created in the 40's for the Paris Opera Ballet, Oberon's "Intermezzo" in A Midsummer Night's Dream as influenced by his stint at Royal Danish Ballet, etc.

The music for "Who Cares?" is a compilation of songs by George and Ira Gershwin, orchestrated by Hershey Kay for NYCB, and in one case -- the pas de deux for the demis -- is a medley created by Kay. I've never seen a commercial recording of Kay's arrangement. The individual songs are available individually in many commercial recordings by a wide range of artists. A full-length version was broadcast live in the 80's on either Great Performances or Dance in America. (I think the dancers were McBride, Watts, Lopez, and Lavery.). I don't know if it would be useful to you to "lift" the soundtrack, as it is full of audience noise and applause, if you could get a copy of it. The Balanchine Celebration version is a truncated version of the piece and also was recorded live. There was a studio version with Karin von Aroldingen, but I don't know if this was complete.

When I saw it, the prince crowned himself. Perhaps it was toned down after the initial criticism that suggested this was a metaphor for the passing of the Company from Balanchine to Martins.

balletcaliente, Welcome to Ballet Talk! Would you tell us what company and choreographer you saw?

A even more modern view is Peter Martins', where the Prince grabs the crown from the King at the end and crowns himself, a bit like Napoleon. Sorry, that was more in line with: Props: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

[ADMIN BEANIE ON] Please note that if we receive official word or other print source on a dancer's health, we will be sure to post it. [ADMIN BEANIE OFF]

Re: amplification and live music, Boston Lyric Opera is planning to mike the stage (but not the performers) of the Schubert Theater, according to this article in the Boston Globe. Organizations have traditionally sworn that amplification is a response to acoustical failures in concert/opera venues and substandard acoustics in converted venues, like converted movie houses and all-purpose community theaters. The exceptions I've seen have been when young singers are deliberately miked to save their voices -- noted in this article -- and where there is speech -- i.e. a production of The Magic Flute by Vancouver Opera where the dialogue was miked. Since the age of modern recording, opera singers have chosen to record works in the studio before their voice was ready to carry over the orchestra in a live venue or works that they never performed onstage, fearing the roles would wreck their voices. There are devoted modern opera fans who can't bear to hear the great opera singers and orchestras in the pre high-fidelity stage because of the limited tone and dynamic range and crackles, pops, and hisses, or who dislike anything that isn't recorded with the clarity of sound that is specific to CD recording. My concern is that modern audiences are so used to amplified sound that they won't be able to listen to a voice or any kind of orchestra without that "sound." So much is determined by what we're used to. When I was growing up, the idea of lipsynching was considered cheap, and the presence of a head microphone was an embarrassment. MTV has made lipsynching/air guitar the norm to the extent that Edvin Marton had to insist that he play the violin live to recorded accompaniment at the World Figure Skating Championship Exhibition Gala. There's no visual discrepancy between Sarah Brightman appearing on a platform dressed in an elaborate fantasy dress, bejeweled with a head microphone. I, personally, blame the entire phenomenon on Heather Locklear, who made it fashionable to show dark roots with a blond dye job. ( )

While this might not be the best program for a ballet newcomer who likes contemporary art, according to its website, New York Theater Ballet is performing its Ashton/Tudor/Alston program on April 22-24 at Florence Gould Hall, 55 East 59th Street (bet. Madison and Park Aves). On the other hand, NYTB performs in an intimate venue, not in a barn, and it might be fun to sit close. Here's the link to the New York Times review from today's "Links": http://www.nytimes.com/2005/04/18/arts/dance/18goul.html? Some Ballet Talkers have reviewed the program on this thread: http://ballettalk.invisionzone.com/index.p...l=Capriol+Suite Here's the info from the Brooklyn Academy of Music site re: Mark Morris run: horeographed by Mark Morris Somebody’s Coming to See Me Tonight (1995) Stephen Foster Rock of Ages (2004) NY Premiere Franz Schubert Silhouettes (1999) Richard Cumming Rhymes with Silver (1997) Lou Harrison Set design by Howard Hodgkin From Old Seville (2001) Manuel Requiebros BAM Howard Gilman Opera House Apr 19, 21—23 at 7:30pm If he's interested in music, here's the link to Carnegie Hall for the upcoming weekend: http://www.carnegiehall.org/jsps/threeDayC...eddate=04212005

I would choose Apollo's last solo and the male solo in Square Dance. The only female role that I would have coveted is the "jumping" women in the last movement of Paul Taylor's Espalande, but my knees hurt just thinking about the falls and slides. Square Dance with NYCB and Merrill Ashley, with guest appearances by some of the demis in last year's San Francisco Ballet production, whose names, unfortunately, I don't know. Coaching would be by Bart Cook. Apollo, with coaching from Henning Kronstam, Lew Christensen, and Ib Andersen. The muses would be Gloria Govrin, Stephanie Saland, and Suzanne Farrell. It would be the complete version. I would also want to dance the male lead in Agon, just to be able to partner Diana Adams in the pas de deux.

Oh dear, you are so right. I must have been thinking subconciously of Marin Alsop, because I am seeing her conduct the Seattle Symphony in a couple of weeks.

Ari added a link in Sunday, 17 April's Links thread to a San Francisco Chronicle article by Rachel Howard advising people how to approach dance in general, and the "Bay Area Celebrates National Dance Week" programming in particular. The quote that Ari posted part of, made me think of carbro's comment on the "Advice to Giselle, Ask Amy thread that, When people go to the movies, they often stick with their genre and don't go to "chick flicks," "blow 'em ups," "movies I have to read," "Films," [fill in the blank]. I think it would be helpful if people felt comfortable articulating what they might want to see -- "a contemporary story," "no sappy music," etc. -- and agree with Rachel Howard that most feel too intimidated to do so. Like with film, people have been known to expand their taste when they find the "hook" into what they like.

From Links today comes the news that Andrew Mogrelia has resigned as Music Director of the San Francisco Ballet Orchestra, effective at the end of this season. The orchestra has played so beautifully under his direction during the last two years. I don't have a more articulate reaction to this news than: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..."

That's an interesting point. Although the union contract limits the number of performances per week, they are still playing week in and week out for 13-14 weeks in the Winter Season, and 8 weeks in the Spring Season, not including rehearsals. While the seasons of larger symphonies are longer -- Seattle Symphony, for example, performs from mid-September through the beginning of July and is also the orchestra for the Seattle Opera for five 2.5 week runs during the same period -- they tend to perform three or four times per week (Thurs-Sun is the standard schedule), with occasional pops concert and school or touring performance thrown in. Full-time symphonies do have the advantage of first-rate music directors and many guest conductors over the course of the season, which along with focus on a limited number of pieces every every week, can keep them on their toes and provide interpretive challenges. They may be at the service of the conductor-of-the-week or music director, but they are not subservient to another art form. And, except for opera performances, they are on stage, not in the pit.

Figueroa's Barber Violin Concerto made me forget Elmar Oliveira's Barber Violin Concerto, which was no mean feat. I thought Figueroa's promotion to concertmaster was one of the best developments to happen to the orchestra. I used to cringe especially listening to Martin Alsop's lead in Bach Concerto for Two Violins whenever Concerto Barocco was programmed. [Note: As Farrell Fan pointed out below, the correct name of the former NYCB concertmaster is Lamar Alsop, not Martin Alsop.] On a related note, having listed to Jerry Zimmerman play all of the Robbins Chopin ballets repeatedly, I thought that he was one of the foremost contemporary interpreters of Chopin and one of NYCB's best kept secrets. I really looked forward to hearing his Goldberg Variations as well.

I'm going to chime in on that question, Clara76. Maintaining a ballet orchestra requires a critical mass of performances -- otherwise the musicians can't support themselves -- and takes up a significant chunk of the annual budget. It's not possible for a ballet company to say, well, we had a deficit this year, so recorded music next year, but maybe we'll re-assemble an orchestra again in two years. There are lots of contracts to be broken, not to mention orchestra re-building and general discontent from the audience. What local orchestras allow a ballet company is a combination of flexibility -- i.e, the ability to "book" the orchestra according to budget and schedule -- and quality. For organizations like Ballet Arizona and Oregon Ballet Theatre, it allows them access to second-rank, but excellent orchestras (Arizona Symphony Orchestra and Portland Symphony Orchestra), who tend to honor the fidelity of the score and who are led by first-rate conductors. For regional orchestras, ballet performances give the players additional opportunities to earn money, often playing scores that are familiar (Nutcracker, Romeo and Juliet, Bach's Concerto for Two Violins) and require less rehearsal and independent study, and the smaller number of performances (one or two weekends, apart from Nutcracker) actually can be an advantage in fitting into a fall-spring schedule. Two downsides of using a local orchestra are that the orchestra schedule can dictate the ballet schedule, and that a symphony orchestra is not born trained to be sensitive to the musical needs of the dancers.

My impression of the orchestra over several decades of listening until I moved to the West Coast in 1994 was that the orchestra played more consistently well under Robert Irving, but the absolute highs were when Hugo Fiorato conducted the lush orchestra scores, like Mendelssohn's Scottish Symphony and the big Tchaikovsky scores (ex: Diamonds, Piano Concerto No. 2), where his experience as a violinist brought out the best in the strings.

Many thanks, BalletNut for your review! I saw Lamberena in Seattle this afternoon, and I really wanted to steal those dresses. They are gorgeous. And I agree with you about the Bach; I wished it had been dropped. One thing I did find distracting during the ballet was thinking intermittently that Ice Dancers' Denkova and Staviyski's "Bach to Africa" program would have been a lot more successful had they used other cuts of the music. I wonder if the ponytails on the men were hair extensions; Wevers and Herd had them, too. I tried to find reasonable flights to get to San Francisco for one of the two weekends of Programs 6&7, and although I would have loved to see the Ashton, I have to admit I'm glad that the flights were over-priced, because from everything I've read about Dybbuk, it sounded like seeing it would be more of duty or obligation and pretty much devoid of pleasure.

I saw the "American Choreographers" program this afternoon. It opened with Christopher Stowell's Quick Time, set to a piano sonata by Camille Saint-Saens, based on a theme by Beethoven. For me, therein lies the rub: I found the music to be quite static rhythmically, until the very end; it was like stakes in a garden -- da, da, da, da -- with frenzied steps like vines run amok. The ballet was beautifully costumed by Mark Zappone, with the women in sleeveless bright blue and green jumpsuits with flowing bellbottomed pants and "inlays" on the bodice that offset the 60's decorations on the pianos. It was beautifully danced, and there were some lovely passages: a very short pas de deux for Kylee Kitchens and Lucien Postlewaite, a lovely series of low lifts in a late pas de deux between Noelani Pantastico and Jonathan Porretta, and Porretta's second solo. It was the softness and fluidity with which Porretta embued the long opening solo to such thankless music that made it possible to watch. His ample gifts and technical acumen were better served by his fellow dancers in the Choreographer's Showcase a few weeks ago. Of the supporting corps couples, Rachel Foster was particularly vivid. After a pause, The Moor's Pavane followed on the program. In another form of thanklessness, the Moor's confidence is poisoned by His Friend very soon into the piece, and he must maintain a jealous rage for the duration of the dance, while his Friend has the luxury of personality shape-changing. To his great credit Jeffrey Stanton maintained and built that intensity believably in what is, in many ways, a mime role, as his limbs are covered by a floor-length robe. By contrast His Friend, in his short tunic and tights, performs signature moves that emphasize turnout: grand plie in second, demi plie in what looked like passe with the working foot in demi point, and b-plus. Christophe Maraval danced and acted brilliantly in the role, playing each incarnation of Iago -- the spoiler, the fool, the punching bag, Machiavelli -- convincingly. Jodie Thomas danced The Moor's Wife, and gave an even more deeply moving rendition than she did in 2002: womanly, gracious, loving, and with wifely pride. In a signature move, where she stands facing the wing and bends back from the waist with her arms outstretched, she embodied trust, and the irony in the tragedy lay in how ill-founded that trust was. Paul Gibson's Piano Dance followed, to short piano works by Cage (Opening Dance), Ligeti (Musica Ricercata), Chopin (Raindrop Prelude?), Bartok (Chromatic Invention & Ostinato), and Ginastera (Criollas) -- every single piece music to dance to. Gibson has a strand of Balanchine DNA: while there are overtones in this ballet to specific Balanchine pieces, there are more palpable resemblances in the logic and placement, the unending inventiveness, the movement and energy that burns from the sternum, and choreography that makes the dancers look newly born. But even more, the ballet was infused with humor and a joie de vivre that Robbins tried to hard to achieve in pieces like Interplay, but that appeared to flow naturally and in abundance. I saw the second cast, comprised of Soloists and Corps; in the first cast, half the roles were performed by Principals, and I will be curious to see if the dynamic shifts when I see that cast next week. The central couple was danced by Lesley Rausch and Casey Herd. I'm not sure if the role was made primarily on Louise Nadeau or if it was a fusion of the strengths of Nadeau and Rausch, but if the former, it is even more remarkable that the role could look like a perfect fit and be such a triumph for Rausch. It would be so easy for her, with her long legs and preternatural extension and feet, to exaggerate her flexibility, but her dancing came from the center, which made the extension part of the whole phrase and shape. One of the pas de deux for Couple 1 (Rausch/Herd) had the feel of a cross between the first two themes of Four Temperaments and "Five Pieces, Op. 10" from Episodes. (And, like often in that piece, the audience had a fit of the giggles.) Another resemblance in tone was a short part danced by Jordan Pacitti, which made me immediately wanted to see him in "Gigue" in Mozartiana, a role I would not have imagined him in before. (A decided lack of imagination on my part, having typecast him mentally in other genres in which he excels.) It was a strength of this piece -- and the casting -- that it revealed so many "hidden" strengths and treasures in its cast. Rausch and Herd, Thomas and Moore, Foster and Pacitti, Eames and Spell -- it was like being in a huge garden, where around every corner there was another gorgeous type of flower in full splendor. And kudos to Dianne Chilgren; it's so easy to take it for granted that a concert pianist performs for the ballet. The women were dressed in red, with the body in the shape of a lycra leotard, with velour "boning" fanning out off the vertical axis, and short velour "skirts" in the back. (Mark Zappone also did the designs for this ballet.) Lisa J. Pinkham's lighting enhanced the overall feel of each piece. The only disconcerting element was the men's pants, which had wide horizontal stripes at the bottom of one pant leg, and the other pant leg cropped at the knee. It is ultimately the inevitability of Gibson's response to danceable music that made this the best contempory ballet I've seen since NYCB revived Danses Concertantes in 1989. I think that ballet companies should beg, borrow, and steal this ballet for their repertoire. The last ballet on the program was Lambarena. Carrie Imler danced the lead among a trio of women, including Noelani Pantastico and Mara Vinson. Imler was fascinating to watch, because she dances with a fluency and self-confidence that doesn't scream "I AM GREAT" (even though she is, in my opinion), but states, "This Is What I Am." She hasn't boxed herself into any other persona but "dancer," and her dancing has both a richness and directness that I find so appealing. Mara Vinson danced with a sense of fullness, and amidst Vinson and Imler, Pantastico looked a bit formal, until her pas de deux with Batkhurel Bold, when her crispness and precision fit the choreography beautifully. Another standout in a demi role was Pacitti, who caught the undulating quality of the movement so well, that when he shimmied with his shoulders, the reverberations could be seen in his ribs, waist, and hips. His dancing has a grounded, virile quality of movement. During the intermission after The Piano Dance, I ran to the box office to buy tickets for two more performances next weekend, but, alas it was closed. (I later ordered off the website.) I'm really looking forward to seeing the alternate casts.