kfw

We don't do any "flaming" on this board, and courteous debate is always welcomed!

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We're remarkably courteous around here, alright. Of course the board rules require it. But it might be all that Petipa is rubbing off on us too.

Leigh Witchel wrote an interesting review that Alexandra posted in Monday's Links section. 

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Form or Force

20 of 33 violinists at the NY Philharmonic are women and several of them are Asian Jiulliard graduates.

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Today's NY Times has an article about the predominance of women in the violin sections of some major orchestras.

No matter why the male violinist, Anton Polezhayev, was ousted from the Philharmonic, the fact remains that women outnumber men in its violin section by 20 to 13. In the orchestra's only comment on the case, its director of public relations, Eric Latzky, said yesterday, "In the past several years, musicians of both genders have received tenure in the orchestra." He said there was "wide input" within the orchestra in making the decision but he declined to comment further.

The Philharmonic's violin gender breakdown signals how far women have come in orchestra ranks, or at least in some of those ranks, as a quick look at rosters confirms. According to the Philharmonic's Web site, women count for 7 of the 12 violists, 6 of 11 cellists and 2 of 9 double bass players. At the Boston Symphony Orchestra, men trail in the violins 13 to 18, and lead 7 to 5 in the violas, 9 to 1 in the cellos and 9 to 0 in the double basses. In Cleveland, women outnumber men by only one in the violins, and at the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, men dominate that section, 18 to 10.

Regarding orchestras, I think NYCB's orchestra is contractually required to play whenever the company dances within a 250-mile radius of NYC.  So they wouldn't have to take the orchestra everywhere they went, but it did cause some problems with the Kennedy Center a while ago, which were fortunately worked out.

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It caused problems for about 20 years, didn't it? It was something like that. I live about 140 miles away, and I'm awfully glad things have changed.

Thanks for the recommendation, Helene. I haven't seen a Jarmusch film since the black and white Stranger than Paradise and Down By Law, but the latter is one of my favorite films, and both have moments of unusual quiet and beauty.

4/25-26/06  Long Island U., Tilles Center for the Performing Arts, Greenvale, NY

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Hmmn. . . They're also scheduled to perform at a gala in Charlottesville, VA on 4/25.

I don't quite know the words for the difference I see -- especially when compared with personal memories of the 50s and 60s supplemented by the few commercial videos of the 70s. But the attack is sharper than Miami.  There's a quality of risk-taking, almost despately so in some of Balanchine's 70s videos.  That is not there at Miami, though the great attention to detail is.  This is not a huge difference, but something I've felt since I first saw Miami -- a company which, incidentally, is wonderful, wonderful.

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I see that difference between the dancing on those 70's videos and just about any performance of Balanchine I've ever seen. I just don't see NYCB today dancing with more daring and attack than MCB -- the other way around often. But your experience of MCB and perhaps of both companies is much larger than mine.

Miami Ballet -- a major preserver/presenter of Balanchine -- has Edward Villella      and access to the best Balanchine coaches.  Their style is impeccable/ ditto their speed.  But the feeling (more legato, more gentle, less urban-intense)  is quite different from NYCB in Balanchine's day or even today.

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That's interesting, Bart. I remember a NY Times review some years back in which the reviewer said something to the effect of "the whole company's dancing was reminiscent of Villella's." Formyself, I barely saw NYCB in Balanchine's day, but I haven't noticed the difference you speak of, at least not in Rubies or the black and white ballets.

Yes, Bart asks an excellent question. Questions of revenue and of building the audience aside though, I'll guess that after all these years the company has a real emotional atttachment to the Saratoga season as a sort of working vacation.

Kate, what do you like about the Forsythe you've seen? Perhaps "weird" is not what most ballet lovers value most in choreography. I think it's safe to say that the best choreography is humanistic: it celebrates the glory of being human, and as such it allows for a range of emotional expression. The little Forsythe I've seen (only on video) was mechanistic.

That's very interesting, Hans, and I'd love more analysis. I don't know much about the Kirov but I do know that they've been dancing Symphony in C and Rubies and other Balanchine works that, if I'm not mistaken, require rather more petit allegro than the Petipa they've historically been nourished on. So I'm puzzled as to why there would be a falling off in that area.

Gia Kourlas has an interesting piece in today's NY Times on the "mismash" she believes frequently results from combining ballet with modern dance. Thirty-two years after Twyla Tharp premiered "Deuce Coupe," Kourlas writes, contemporary attempts to mix the two forms of dance often result in

mind-numbingly generic work in which ballet is watered down and modern dance is watered down, leaving a list of choreographic cocktails that simply never should have been mixed in the first place.

Such new work lacks is "courage and imagination," Kourlas claims, while Suzanne Farrell's restaging of Balanchine's "Don Quixote" should be presented to adventurous audiences.

I've been seeing 4T's since the mid-70s.  I don't know if "angst" was ever an element.  But there was an underlying sense of -- not quite danger, but maybe edginess?  That's what's missing.  It's been smoothed out. 

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I didn't see NYCB dance this ballet until 1999, but I noticed the same thing then and several times since. Miami City Ballet dances it with sort of tension I love in the NYCB video. Quiggin, thank you for that careful observation.

Juliet and dirac, the folks who expected Petipa’s Don Q. have my most ironic sympathy, as the one time I tried watching that ballet I quickly lost interest. Some day in a good faith attempt to renounce heresy I’ll try again. Anyhow, Balanchine’s version of the story fascinated me even when it didn’t fully engage me.

Farrell Fan, I'm really glad you could see the ballet this time!

The rapid shifts between the tragic (which I felt in whenever Dulcinea was onstage or she and/or Marcela and the Don were onstage together) and the farcial (recurring in the Don's battles with Disneyesque phanthoms) still jarred yesterday afternoon, but I was thrilled by Ogden's abandon, and, as I believe someone else commented, each solo and pas and ensemble set piece had fleeting delicious moments that cried out to be seen again.

I too experienced Ogden and Rodriguez and dancers merely portraying rather than fully inhabiting the character of Dulcinea, but for me this was as much a result of their relatively pinched acting as their relatively upright dancing. As leibling said, they lacked sensuality. Give them time. I have a framed photo in my study that I bought in a Russian restaurant in Cambridge, Mass. years ago (they were going out of business): a grainy black and white closeup of of Balanchine in a suitcoat (?) clasping Farrell's arm and leading her on. Or so I read it. It must be from a Don Quixote rehearsal. Both partners have a depth of feeling and understanding on their faces that make last week's couples look shallow by comparison. That said, I'm filled with gratitude to and admiration for Farrell and the whole company for their efforts and the beauty of their accomplishments, and for letting latecomers like me see this historical and remarkable ballet.

Jack, it's been great to read your thoughts night after night.

Tamatonose asked some excellent questions on the Swan Lake on PBS thread --

[. . .] an important issue needs to be thought about, and that's the way ballet wants to market itself in the future. If highlighting technical prowess supercedes other considerations, will the artistic goals be altered, and if so, is it necessarily a bad thing? Is this just the natural evolution of an art form? Although almost everyone agrees that commissioning new works is a good thing, and many new works emphasize this athleticism, should the classics also be kneaded to do the same?

Moreover, how do you balance between doing what's necessary to stay financially stable (and thus preserve ballet for future generations) and doing what's necessary to stay true to the art when those things might work against each other?

It's a cliche these days that while on the whole younger dancers are more technically accomplished than ever, they tend to lack the personality and individuality that distinguished preceding generations of performers. I wonder what accounts for this relative lack of star power. Is there something more going on than just a lack of coaching? More germane to the issues Tomatonose raised, how can and do choreographers and company directors cope with this when they cast ballets? If choreographers are seeing more prowess and less artistry or artistic promise, won't they tend to focus on what's available to them, setting steps and envisioning their work in progress accordingly?

In regards to whether or not a relative emphasis on technical prowess is a natural evolution, certainly it's to be expected that the larger culture will shape both the dancers and the taste and expectations of the audience. We're living in such an anti-romantic age, at least for youth culture: in the age of "hooking up," for example, how many young dancers have had the love affairs -- the experience -- to dance romantically?

That last question may be wandering somewhat afield. Or maybe not. In any case, any post with such a lovely use of a verb (kneaded) deserves its own thread.

Oh, the music--it meanders.  Not like a burbling stream, not with a lovely, lazy summer aimlessness, but like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that occasionally are fitted together in the beginning of a pattern or direction, but then are thrown helterskelter back on the table.

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Nice description. But I liked that about it! I'll have to listen more carefully Sunday, but what I heard last night was an intriguing change of pace from the grand -- at times verging on grandiose -- scores of some other story ballets. (Not that I don't love Tchaikovsky).

The Capezio guy only spoke for 15 minutes? "Advertisement" is exactly what I was thinking, and a very badly written one it was too -- overwrought and cliched at the same time. I didn't think Michael Kaiser's was much better-- certainly it lacked the imagination that characterized Farrell's dancing -- but he had the graciousness to be short.

With all the publicity this production received ahead of time, it's hard for me to believe that so many people came to the theater either unprepared for something unconventional, or unprepared to stick it out.

I’m kicking myself for not bring my program and notes to work. Anyhow, I wasn't bored, but I understand the complaints. The scenes with Don Quixote and Marcella/Dulcinea were affecting, and if Mladanov and Rodriguez weren't great actors, they believed in what they were doing and made me believe as well. I thought Rodriguez was adequate technically, and in the third act that was extremely impressive. But she didn't project very well (I was 4th row center) and there wasn't much depth or variety to her characterization. I was moved by the story, and I was moved because I was rooting for her as she assayed such a monumental role; and she looked the part -- lovely and pure. The Don sure picked a Lady. But I hope she’ll have time to develop the confidence and experience to develop the character. The same goes for Mladenov-- affecting but one-dimensional. Sancho Panza was likeable, but pure buffoon.

The second divertissements were entertaining, but nothing more. Pickard and Parsely and Mahoney and Ritter (and the corps in the marvelous third act ensemble passages) were terrific, and the little girl shadowing Pickard with a hot pink feathered parasol couldn’t have been cuter, but the story stalled. Heather Ogden has been quoted as saying that the story builds momentum. That’s exactly what it didn’t do for me. The tone kept shifting – now we’re watching an epic tale told mostly through mime; now we’re admiring Balanchine choreography. It didn’t cohere.

For someone who doesn’t go to Broadway musicals, or even many story ballets, the sets and costumes were stunning. To give just one example, on the scrim used before each act the pages of a book open out into a sunset landscape with "Dulcinea" written in the merest wisp of cloud.

The audience applauded the dancing several times, but after the curtain they were polite at best. I felt bad for everyone onstage.

And I suppose I would rather go with beauty and feeling -- even if there's a sacrifice of some technique -- in Swan Lake.

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So would I, and that's what Veronika Part provided along with Marcello Gomes in the final Swan Lake of the same recent Kennedy Center appearance. I'm happy to have Murphy and Corella's performance on tape, although I've only had time to watch the first two acts so far. But I wish McKenzie had chosen to feature the cast I saw.

The current issue of The New Criterion has an article by Laura Jacobs about Martha Graham and the Martha Graham Dance Company's spring season at City Center.

In the 1954 movie White Christmas, an Irving Berlin no-people-like-show-people musical that should be a cult classic but is more often labeled kitsch (it’s that Santa Claus finale complete with pre-teens in tutus doing bourrées under the tree), there’s a send-up of Martha Graham that is one of the best send-ups in dance history. The number, choreographed by the Broadway eminence Robert Alton, is called “Choreography,” and it’s sung by Danny Kaye, hilarious in geeky-beatnik garb: black turtleneck, black floods, black beret— eyeliner!—he’s Cecil Beaton doing Sartre. Kaye doesn’t perform alone. He’s surrounded, swarmed, by a corps of barefoot girls in sackcloth shifts, their ponytails swinging like tribal rites. While he warbles, “Chicks/ Who did kicks/ Aren’t kicking anymore, they’re doin’ choreography,” the girls create tight little fire escapes around him, all knees and elbows, feet flexed and faces fraught. They move to a machine-age theme that’s as angular and percussive as they are, stampeding Kaye who’s doing his absurd, angular best to blend in yet looks like the silly grasshopper amid socialist-realist ants. Never mind that Graham didn’t call herself a choreographer, “a big, wonderful word,” she said in 1989, “that can cover up a lot of sins. I work. That’s what I call what I do when I make dances.” Alton’s point exactly: in Graham the serious stuff, sin for instance, was uncovered, up front.

the difference between middle and high-brow is not social class but intellectual class -- the real issue is how hard they make you think;

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I agree, but I also think it's useful to distinguish between highbrow and middlebrow -- curious and thoughtful and educated vs. relatively passive approaches -- to the same work of art. The highbrow can find more in Vienna Waltzes than the middlebrow can.

I'm not a fan of David Brooks. Be that as it may, who is Joe Strauss?

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Joe Sixpack's middlebrow-striving-for-highbrow forbearer.

Coolidge was a friend of Bohm.

According to Charles M. Joseph in “Stravinsky and Balanchine,” Elise Reiman, who danced Calliope at the D.C. premiere, remembered that the most difficult choreography amounted to an attitude promenade with one arm around Bohm’s neck. Bohm thought the Coolidge stage was too small for the four dancers stipulated in the scenario. Bohm found the scenario "not so very stimulating." The conductor, Hans Kindler of the NSO, found the composer's piano reduction "very ugly," and replaced some of the dissonances with "blander harmonies" for the premiere. The premiere was poorly received, although John Martin praised the choreography.

Writing in her blog Seeing Things about an exhibit of photos at the current Bournonville Festival in Copenhagen, Tobi Tobias describes just the sort of eroticized-down dance Deresiewicz is lamenting.

The photographer, Per Morton Abrahamsen (has) produced a dozen mise-en-scenes in which—claiming to modernize the tales told by the ballets, to free the action from, as he puts it, the repressions of “Victorian piety”—he  trashes them with a vulgarity so cheap and superficial, it would make you laugh if only you weren’t crying.  (Let’s assume the translator meant “propriety.”)  . . . For the most part, the work reflects the cool young crowd at play, with lots of slick, noir eroticism, complete with criminal violence and conspicuously populated with victimized women.  One svelte-bodied beauty seems to have been raped.  Another is being flung out of a high window (grinning, mind you) into the dubious embrace of a firefighter’s net manned by a bunch of guys stripped to display their pecs—if, indeed, by good or ill luck, she misses hitting the pavement below.

One of the problems I have with the argument is that art (for which pop culture is being substituted) isn't supposed to make us "smarter."  It is supposed to feed our imaginations and our souls and enrich our lives.

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Which makes us not exactly smarter, but wiser, or at least offers us that possibility.

National Public Radio's All things Considered aired a nice appreciation of Diamond this morning.