dirac

Weslow's great. As noted, his chapter has a boffo ending, too. I also enjoyed Edward Warburg's reminiscences about Balanchine's early years in America, and Lucia Davidova had interesting things to say. Not everyone represented in the volume is so enlightening, unfortunately. I would also put in a good word for Distant Dances in addition to those already given above. Very interesting and intelligent book.

Great minds think alike. I saw the show and had thought of starting a similar thread. I don't know enough about the current state of play in the English theatre to say how accurate O'Toole's characterization might be. His comments may be in part defensive, because once upon a time Burton, O'Toole, Finney, et al., were viewed as the logical successors to the three Sirs (Gielgud, Olivier, Richardson) along with Paul Scofield, who stayed in the theatre -- it was supposed to be Burton v. Scofield à la Olivier v. Gielgud, and it didn't happen -- they were accused of selling out to the movies, etc., and it's true that although they did do the occasional play -- Gielgud directed Burton's Hamlet, Olivier did the same for O'Toole -- they didn't come back very frequently. ( And classical acting on that level is similar to ballet in that it requires intensive work and training; you can't just take years off and then plunge into a thumping enormous part like Lear or Macbeth. ) Christopher Plummer has remarked, in a similar vein, that the kind of training and experience that aided his own development is no longer available, although I don't think he said why. This is not good news; however, I don't know that the decline of the actor-manager model, which did have its own problems, is necessarily responsible. An institution can carry on a tradition if you have the right people at the top. A very big if, of course. I must say it was a pleasure to hear and see O'Toole again, in any case. I miss him. Must rent My Favorite Year again. I noted also that Rose, who usually interrupts more often than Larry King, listened respectfully for the most part. And who do we have now that could play T.E. Lawrence or Henry II with the same charisma and authority? Sigh.

Thanks! The company was on television recently on the Bravo station, and a thread about the broadcast was started on the Anything Goes board, if you're interested (it was a few weeks ago, so you may have to expand the search to 45 days back or thereabouts).

I never saw McBride live, alas, but no photograph I have seen indicates any plumpness whatsoever. However, I think Arlene Croce once described her as appearing "deliciously round and rosy" in the Voices of Spring segment of Vienna Waltzes, if memory serves. Perhaps special effects were used. I remember a passage in Sasha Anawalt's biography of Joffrey where he was once asked why he had so few tall people in his company, and he said Balanchine nabbed all the good ones.

I never saw McBride live, alas, but no photograph I have seen indicates any plumpness whatsoever. However, I think Arlene Croce once described her as appearing "deliciously round and rosy" in the Voices of Spring segment of Vienna Waltzes, if memory serves. Perhaps special effects were used. I remember a passage in Sasha Anawalt's biography of Joffrey where he was once asked why he had so few tall people in his company, and he said Balanchine nabbed all the good ones.

Perhaps I'm being pedantic, or confused, but did you mean the classical myth of Pygmalion and Galatea, the opera/ballet of Jean-Philippe Rameau, or Shaw's play? (If any is in production, I haven't heard. )

I could give you names and titles and then make you work, but there's a quick and dirty solution for you, thanks to NYCB. A volume called "Tributes" came out a few years ago, and it contains, among other things, poems in part or entirety by Balanchine fans among the poet ranks. Kenneth Koch, Frank O'Hara, Ron Padgett, and Robert Lowell are the ones I can think of offhand who are represented. James Merrill, too. Elise Paschen, Maria Tallchief's daughter, is a poet and I think one of hers is also there. Hope this helps.

Ed, Tom Wolfe once suggested that PBS must stand for "Petroleum's British Subsidiary" since all the accents were English and everything seemed to be sponsored by Mobil or Exxon. (At least back then the British shows were good British shows. I can also recall a time when my local channel had access to the Janus film collection, and there were these wonderful movie marathons of foreign movies; I saw all of Alec Guinness' Ealing comedies and most of Ingmar Bergman that way.) I really don't think we should be blaming the programmers too much. I think it's embarrassing that they have to troll for dollars as they do, but it's not their fault. Include a complaint with your next check (they have ways of tracking the complainers who contribute and those who don't). Mel, what did Balanchine do to make such a pest of himself?

When Arlene Croce reviewed Julie Kavanagh's Ashton bio, she pointed out that, although Balanchine and Ashton had different approaches and different sexual orientations, both of them focused their chief creative energies on women, not on men. She adduced this as evidence of the centrality of women's dancing to the classical tradition. This sounds right to me, and while I'm all in favor of the guys getting more to do, it should not be at the expense of the women or by distorting the classics. That said, a little reinterpretation, or the insertion of a solo or two, isn't out of bounds, as long as it doesn't go too far. Things like the meditative solo Nureyev inserted into Act One of Swan Lake don't bother me; overassertive jesters and dancing von Rothbarts do. I'm sorry if this means dancers are sitting around the week the company does Swan Lake with nothing to do, but that's showbiz. I'd also suggest that it's not entirely true that other works aren't subject to this kind of tinkering. In Shakespearean productions, while actual new verse doesn't get inserted into the text, cuts, sometimes vast ones, are frequently made. And an actor can impose an interpretation of a role that alters the balance of the play. For example, the women's parts get beefed up, not by adding more lines, but by pushing that character forward in various scenes, or making the character more assertive. ( In two recent film versions of Hamlet, both the Queen and Ophelia got this kind of treatment -- Glenn Close's Gertrude, for example, seemed to pop up everywhere, and she was all over her son like a tent, while Kate Winslet's Ophelia was so strong she overpowered Shakespeare's frail flower completely, and what happened to the character no longer made any sense.) Obviously that 's not the same thing as taking Raymonda's entrance away from her, but it does happen. And it's not always bad -- just an adjustment to changing times, which probably has to happen.

Not dance related. A pop math quiz for orchestra members: http://users.actrix.co.nz/dgold/fun/mathtest.html and a "Carmen" updated to reflect contemporary health concerns and sexual mores: http://users.actrix.co.nz/dgold/fun/carmen.html

"La Feline Mal Gardée"?

For those who care, suspended French skating judge Marie Reine Le Gougne's lawyers fire back. An Associated Press report: http://www.nytimes.com/2002/04/23/sports/o...rts/23SKAT.html

Fayard Nicholas, 87, performs in Boston. Sarah Kaufman was there, for the Washington Post: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/artic...7-2002Apr21.htm

I wasn't around then, but another thing that seems to have occurred was that Balanchine became an institution as well as his company; there were still pockets of critical resistance, but the days when he received reviews along the lines of Martin's Here's-Balanchine-with-that ballet-of-his-again were over. His name started losing any tinge of modernistic radicalism that might have been associated with it and he was becoming the Establishment. Perhaps Balanchine did what he did in his will because he had more confidence in the individuals to whom he left his ballets than any institution, even his own. This was someone who had had the rug pulled out from under him several times in his life; he would have understood better than most that nothing lasts, at least not in its original form. In some degree NYCB would have eventually ceased to be NYCB as he knew it no matter what his will said. If it's true that Balanchine's company is not tending to his ballets, then at least this way others who know them can try. As for the public radio stations -- I fully believe that they're doing what they have to do to survive, and that talk radio gets the ratings. I don't think ratings should determine public programming . but we don't live in a country where public television and radio have generous government funding. Thus the pledge drives, ceaseless begging, and Suze Orman specials and so forth. The importance of the Ford grant can hardly be overstated, IMO. ( I once read somewhere that Lincoln Kirstein got a late night phone call from a totally bombed Martha Graham when the Ford Foundation grant was announced, to tell him that he was "nothing but a common thief.")

Yes, and if it distorts the style horribly, as well. Of course, distortion can be in the eye of the beholder, and that's where the issue gets sticky.

Yes, and if it distorts the style horribly, as well. Of course, distortion can be in the eye of the beholder, and that's where the issue gets sticky.

I disagree, Leigh. It's about time someone blew the lid off those shameless Balanchine strumpets to show them for what they really are.

I don't think Dale or I meant to imply that it's a hard-and-fast rule that women are always referred to by their first names an d men never; but I do think, although there's never been a statistical analysis as far as I know, that the practice is slightly more common with women athletes and the practice can on occasion carry a whiff of condescension. (I also noticed references to "Vijay" and "Retief" yesterday while viewing the Masters this weekend, and I recall it from other broadcasts as well , and Tiger is of course Tiger, although not always. It is, as you note, usually an indicator of affection and respect as applied to men. I'm not always certain that's the case where women are concerned.)

I don't think Dale or I meant to imply that it's a hard-and-fast rule that women are always referred to by their first names an d men never; but I do think, although there's never been a statistical analysis as far as I know, that the practice is slightly more common with women athletes and the practice can on occasion carry a whiff of condescension. (I also noticed references to "Vijay" and "Retief" yesterday while viewing the Masters this weekend, and I recall it from other broadcasts as well , and Tiger is of course Tiger, although not always. It is, as you note, usually an indicator of affection and respect as applied to men. I'm not always certain that's the case where women are concerned.)

A lengthy piece on the Ailey company, by Jennifer Homans for The New Republic: http://www.thenewrepublic.com/doc.mhtml?i=...&s=homans042202

The program does indeed mention Woolf and also Barbara Kingsolver, two rather disparate influences, and the general theme of of desperation-and-death does fall in line with the essay, although my recollection of it is probably even vaguer than yours. (I think Woolf used the definite article in her own title.) I can't think of a less adaptable author to ballet, unless it's James Joyce, or H. G. Wells. I believe we had a thread about Least Suitable Adaptations some time ago. Maybe Ashton could have made a "Between the Acts" along the lines of "Enigma Variations" but that's all I can imagine.

Yes, my comment should actually have read, "I can't see...I just can't see...."

I always feel good after seeing a mixed bill with an Innovative New Work. It's like voting -- not too much fun at the time, and you're not sure how much good it does in the long run, but you come away full of virtue and public spiritedness. Well, not to sound like a reactionary old fud, but last night's program seemed like Let's Flex Our Feet and Lie on the Floor in the Fetal Position night at San Francisco Ballet. I thought L'Arlésienne improved from last season, but not so much as to make me like it very much. Vadim Solomakha assumed the fetal role for this one; he was very good in a role which mainly requires the hero to wander around with the distracted air of one who has seen something in his soup. Julie Diana was very touching as the hapless fiancée, and more secure than Lacarra in the performance of hers I saw. Wheeldon's "Continuum." Um. I am impressed with Wheeldon's ability to create striking shapes and patterns with the dancers. I'm not fond of Ligeti's music, but I freely admit that could just be my problem. I was somewhat disappointed, however, that Wheeldon's choreography didn't do more to take my mind off it. I hate to lob that word "derivative" out there again, but there it is. I kept thinking, "Oh, that's from Third Theme, Four Ts"; "That's so Stravinsky Violin Concerto"; "That's from Calcium Light Night! or is it Ecstatic Orange, I can't quite remember from the PBS show, such a long time ago." I'm sure someone whose viewing is more extensive than mine could have could have spotted plenty more. It was a genuine distraction, I fear. And those configurations that were un-Balanchine seemed to shout, "Look how the dancers are rolling on the floor! Balanchine wouldn't do that, would he?" Well, no, he wouldn't. Don't get me wrong, it's an interesting piece, the dancers looked swell in it, and in further viewings I'm sure I'll see more than I have so far. I remember a photograph I have in a book somewhere of The Clash. The four of them are striking flagrantly rock-starry postures, and Joe Strummer's caption read something like, "We gonna POSE! We gonna POSE! We gonna POSE till the house comes down!" or something like that. I got the same feeling watching Continuum; lots of interesting poses and shapes, but much less in the way of phrasing and flow, if that's not too vague. "Death of a Moth": I can't...I just can't.

I have nothing against camped-up extravagant theatrical excess -- au contraire -- but it did seem to me that Moulin Rouge went Too Far. Luhrmann just doesn't know where to stop, or perhaps he doesn't want to. To maximize your effects you have to eliminate a few, or at least introduce some quieter tones here and there. Luhrmann won't surrender anything he thinks he can exploit. So there's no contrast, just everything-but-the kitchen-sink- pow-wham-bang-zowie. I thought the movie would have gained, not lost, in theatrical and cinematic power if he could have just held the camera still for awhile; if you want to revive the movie musical, as he indicated he did, cutting most of the musical numbers into tiny and finally ineffectual pieces is not the way to do it. I thought he ruined Kidman's opening number by just this method; the "Roxanne" tango number and the "Spectacular Spectacular" sequence are more successful, but Luhrmann had calmed down some by then and allowed you to see more of the performers than waving arms and kicking legs. I feel bad about saying this, since Luhrmann is one of the few working in mainstream movies today trying to do something unusual, and I'd rather watch Moulin Rouge than, say, In the Bedroom. But I hope he cools off a little.

It isn't just ballet. You see it in sport, too, and although it happens with both sexes the practice seems to be slightly more common when referring to women than men. Sometimes it's an efficient way of distinguishing between siblings, so you refer to Venus and Serena rather than to Williams. I find myself doing it, although I try to avoid it because it's an assertion of false intimacy peculiar to fandom and where women are concerned there can be a wee bit of condescension involved, which, I suspect, is why Ella Fitzgerald tended to bristle at the too-familiar "Ella" -- that's Miss Fitzgerald to you, buddy. With certain pop figures, it's almost customary -- I've read articles on The Beatles, in perfectly serious publications, that referred to them throughout by their first names. I think it's fundamentally harmless, unless fan enthusiasm goes over the edge into actual obsession --there's a connection, albeit a very distant one, between referring to Lennon as John, thinking you know John, and finally going over the edge and being convinced you are John and need to get rid of the false one, the one with his picture in the papers. Of course, it can also be a form of honorific, the way Elvis is, well, Elvis. For opera fans, at least some, there's only one Maria, and only one Renata (forget about it, Mme. Scotto).