Anthony_NYC

I know various members of the New York Philharmonic, and although I haven't spoken to any of them about this, from what I know of how the Phil works I have a hard time believing the sexual discrimination charge. I guess we'll find out in court. On the other hand, I've heard Anton Polezhayev in recital, and he is indeed a superbly gifted violinist. If he did something unprofessional, given his talent he should have been spoken to and warned, offered a chance to improve. (Unless he did something really terrible--blew spitballs at the principal violist during a concert, say--that justified instant dismissal.) It sounds like the procedure set in place for this may not have been followed in this case. But unfortunately for Mr. Polezhayev, unfairly firing someone for bad behavior, and without review, while regrettable, probably isn't illegal. As for the Asian women: In many areas of Asia, Western art music plays a far greater role in a child's education than it currently does in America or Europe. Thus the influx of talented and already well-trained Asian musicians in our conservatories. On a possibly less positive note, the predominance of women may have something to do with the fact that in Korea, at least, mastery of a musical instrument is considered beneficial to marrying well. (I don't know if this is true in other Asian cultures.) While many of the Korean women do indeed go home and get married after graduating from our conservatories, others decide to stay here and make a go of it as a professional musician. And thank goodness. Unless we start exposing our kids to music, make them take lessons, bring them to concerts, give them the chance to discover a vocation for music, we better hope Asia continues filling our orchestral ranks or we won't have any orchestras left in another generation or two.

There are so many! All the scholarly studies of this or that that I've bought because I fooled myself into thinking I would--and could--get through them. Fiction-wise, from time to time I pick up The Ambassadors. I usually love James, but this one seems like it's written as notes for somebody who already knows the story, and I find the syntax almost impossible to penetrate. Another one I can't get through is Broch's The Death of Virgil. All these books just sit there on my shelves, staring at me, reminding me how unworthy I am.

There's an article in Canada's National Post about the negative effect of commercials in the movie house.

Also, there are supposed to be ushers in the house during the performance who should be helping to maintain quiet and order (you shouldn't have to police the place yourself). If they're not there, or not doing their job, you should tell the house manager during intermission. From time to time I've had to do this, and it has almost always brought a helpful result.

Is that the one where at the end Odette is pecked to death by the other swans? (I'm not kidding, but I've only heard about it, never seen it.)

Actually, it was recorded twice by the NYCB Orchestra back in the LP era, under Robert Irving (together with Stars & Stripes) and Leon Barzin (with Virgil Thomson's The Filling Station). You might call around to some stores that specialize in LPs; if you don't have a turntable, there are people you can pay to transfer to CD. Princeton Record Exchange Record Finder Westsider Records Academy Records Surprising that Arthur Fiedler never got around to this one.

There's a discussion of the premiere (it's just a couple of pages) is in Charles Joseph's book Stravinsky & Balanchine. Joseph is always a lot better on the music than on the choreography, but he confirms that Stravinsky was never really interested in the U.S. premiere, and intended the piece all along for Balanchine: "After a single staged performance, to the near affacement of any memory of the Washington premiere, Coolidge's Apollo became Diaghilev's Apollo forevermore.

Baryshnikov!

I just love reading this list. Thank you Paul Parish and everybody else for such interesting and perceptive comments!

I just found a book called "First Love," by Adrienne Sharp, announced on Amazon.com. It's due out July 11. Here's Amazon's editorial review (which I assume they won't mind being reproduced here, since it should help garner sales). Has anybody read the author's other books?

Getting off topic here, but in "The Creative Habit" Tharp tells the interesting story of how she originally choreographed the ballet to a Beethoven piano sonata (op. 110, I think). When it turned out the sound of the toe shoes overpowered the music, she tried to quickly adapt the same steps to the Seventh Symphony. She gamely admits the ballet was a failure, and takes full responsibility for it. As it happens, her next ballet, Variations on a Theme of Haydn (to Brahms's score), done for ABT, she considers one of her best. But neither that nor any of her other many ballets for ABT seem to be done very often either. I wonder why, since they're usually a hit with both the audience and the critics.

I think it's a NYC regionalism. When I lived for a while in the Midwest and the West Coast, the word was always pronounced with the stress on the second syllable. I remember a couple years ago a friend visiting from Milwaukee made fun of the "snooty" pronunciation we use here. (It's not just in the name of NYCB or ABT, we use it for the word in general.)

I've never dealt with this company so can't vouch for it, but try this: http://www.classicalrecords.ru/cr/cd-en/042.htm

It does appear to be a recording of the ballet score for orchestra. You can buy it directly from the label that recorded it: http://www.arion-music.com/produit.php?cdi...ode_recherche=1

Although I'm hazy on the other details, Cynthia Gregory was definitely the Odette in a "Swan Lake" I saw I THINK in Santa Fe. Anyway, at the very end, just as Odette (as this production had it) was about to climb some rocks to throw herself into the water, a stage hand casually sauntered out from the wings. He got well out onto the stage before he glanced towards the auditorium, realized it wasn't a rehearsal, panicked, and ducked behind a prop. Much laughter. And then there was a summer stock performance of "Oklahoma!" in which the ballerina's skirt simply fell off! Her partner picked it up, flung it into the wings, and they went on with the performance. There were the inevitable jokes later about changing lyrics: "Don't start collecting things/Give me my skirt and my glove." Anybody else wish Robbins would have rechoreographed the end of "Other Dances"? I've seen that final lift muffed more often than I can remember.

Thanks for that, Jack. If it were my local house, I'd write a letter of complaint, or at least request an explanation. The musicians, who must hate it even more than the audience, will thank you.

I haven't read the book, but Louis Menand in the New Yorker panned it, accusing the author of inconsistent and improper usage!

It's from Hart Crane's "The Bridge," the section called "The Dance." Here's a bit including the phrase Graham used (the dots and dashes are in the poem, they're not my elisions). The narrator is describing canoeing down a river, then getting out and climbing with difficulty because of the "white veil" of spring water coming down. "What laughing chains the water wove and threw! I learned to catch the trout's moon whisper; I Drifted how many hours I never knew, But, watching, saw that fleet young crescent die,-- And one star, swinging, take its place, alone, Cupped in the larches of the mountain pass-- Until, immortally, it bled into the dawn. I left my sleek boat nibbling margin grass ... I took the portage climb, then chose A further valley-shed; I could not stop. Feet nozzled wat'ry webs of upper flow; One white veil gusted from the very top. O Appalachian Spring! I gained the ledge; Steep, inaccessible smile that eastward bends And northward reaches in that violet wedge O Adirondacks!--wisped of azure wands..." Etc., etc., without a period for several more stanzas. I've never quite figured out all of "The Bridge," but this is from the section about Pocahontas, and dance of Native Americans eventually described appears to have nothing to do with Graham's creation that I can see. (I think Graham sad she picked out the phrase "Appalachian Spring" just because she liked the sound of it.)

Another fun fact that a lot of people (well, me, for most of my life) don't know is that the word "spring" in the title refers not to a season but to a source of water.

Jack, I'm curious, do you know why they amplify? Poor acoustics in the hall? A sop to the tastes of younger audiences? A means of cutting back on the number of musicians they need to hire?

Since we've moved off of ballet: Fred Astaire (a stair is a step, right?).

I've heard people pronounce it Wendy Wheelin'.

I'm not a dancer so not as attuned the details as a lot of you, but I honestly don't see a decline in technique. I do, on the other hand, see a definite change in style. My main complaint is that the dancing can, at times, seem too studio-bound. Balanchine may have wanted dancers to do "just the steps," but that's because he knew that the more clearly and unaffectedly those steps were done, the more transparently the personality of the dancer came through. However, that assumes the dancer has an interesting personality to begin with, and the ones Martins favors don't always have that, or else he doesn't know how to bring it out. He has many gifts, but I'm not sure communicating poetry or spirituality is one of them (that's why I find his ballets so blank). This is not to say that he doesn't know this aspect is important--he's a smart guy, after all. I think Balanchine's mere presence (practically a religious figure) when he was alive probably encouraged his dancers to believe in the mysterious poetry in "just the steps," and with the resident genius watching over everything they did they were possibly more constantly aware than dancers today of the ballets' deeper meanings, or more ardent about seeking them out. I always remember Farrell's talking in an interview about how she'd see the costume for the evening's performance hanging in her dressing room all day, and she'd carry that image, and the anticipation of the ballet, with her all day. Come performance time, the day she'd had--the weather, where she'd eaten lunch, a conversation with someone--informed her performance, making it always a new experience, both for her and for the audience. This is a lot like Balanchine, who's supposedly abstract ballets, as we know, are actually full of autobiographical and other references--a merging of art and life. When Balanchine was around, his body of work was an organically growing and changing thing, and our view of them changed accordingly (it could be exasperating!). Now, it's a thing accomplished, the Balanchine Oeuvre, and Peter Martins is its custodian. It's a hard balancing act, I think. When does individuality serve the genius of Balanchine and when does it distort? When does too much reverence of "just the steps" suppress their expressivity rather than clarify it? How can one know this without Balanchine himself around to tell us? I think it's entirely possible that we would find Farrell mannered and distorting (some of the dancers she displaced believed this at the time) if we didn't know she was Balanchine's Chosen One. I agree with Leigh that in general the performances of Farrell's company are rarely on the same level as NYCB's (though it's amazing what she accomplishes with what is, basically, a pick-up troupe). But she does seem to have a tremendous ability to communicate what's behind the steps--this comes out in spades every time you hear her talk--and that's what I respond to in her company. (Unfortunately, I've never seen Miami City Ballet. Why don't the come to NYC every year?) I wish NYCB had more people like her. By the way, Leigh makes an excellent point. When we watch Pacific Northwest, we compare them to NYCB. When we watch NYCB, we compare them to the Ideal. It's impossible!

kfw, I forgot to add that I actually don't disagree with what you've been saying. Jonas is talking about opera, and the situation there is very different. He takes works of art created by others and gives them provocative new stagings. Which is fine. Just don't tell me that's the only way to do it. Imagine ballet getting to a similar point, where a director proclaims that the traditional production of Pillar of Fire is a mere entertainment, and doesn't actually become living art until he puts his "radical" spin on it so we in the audience can at long last comprehend its disturbing elements.

He's saying that if we're not "provoked" by a production then we're not really having a true artistic experience on the level of European audiences. This is absurd and presumptuous, the idea that if a star director doesn't tell us what an opera is about then we can't really understand it or feel it or think about it properly.