whitelight

I realize that the debate over Croce's article has been hashed out many times... the purpose of my post was that it surprises me that writers today still throw the "victim" word at him (and not just in the DanceView Times piece I referred to). So maybe, moving away from Croce and Still/Here, what are people's thoughts on Jones today and how he is perceived?

I agree that it is well written, but from what I have seen of Still/Here on tape, it is far cry from what you might expect a dance using "dying people" to be. It's obvious that Croce was more familiar with his work around that time than I am, but I feel like the impression she gives of the piece does not match the excerpts I have seen. So, who HAS seen the piece, or others of his, and thinks that Croce is on the mark about it being "victim art?"

I have to say that I was kind of disappointed in my limited experience with Ballet Review. At the beginning they have a short reviews section, which I found completely useless, except as archival information (on this date in this city, dancers x and y did ballet z, and it was good. on this other day in this other city, dancers a and b performed ballet c, and it was bad. I am not exaggerating at all). However, I did enjoy the interviews, and I very much like the concept of Ballet Review.

This is definitely something of a rant, and something that irritates me to no end. I find it hard to believe that Bill T Jones's work is still considered "victim art," and yet, from the recent DanceView Times I see I agree that his popularity with upper-middle-class white audiences is problematic, but I want to address the first part of the statement. Especially since every time I have seen this term used, the writer distances him or herself as much as possible with familiarity with the work itself, totally evading justification of the statement! The above is a great example, and a better one if Croce's infamous review of Still/Here-- a performance she did not even attend. I enjoy Croce almost as much as most people who frequent these boards, but a critic cannot be descriptive, interpretive, or evaluative without seeing the work, period. As far as I can tell (I am sure someone can correct me if I am wrong), she gave Jones the "victim art" label, and I must reiterate that it perplexes me. To me, the term implies that the artist is glorifying victim status, and most importantly, demanding pity from the audience. I have only seen three live Bill T Jones performances, and all in the past year, but I can attest from these experiences that "victim art" is a terrible description of his work. I found the brief statement in the NYTimes to be much more descriptive: His dances do try to incorporate everything, it seems, through a kind of postmodern patchwork of specifics. He does tackle charged issues about injustice, but never have I felt that I should "feel sorry for him" for being black, gay, or HIV positive. Furthermore, while his style is unmistakable, his work is not about himself-- he always moves outside of himself, using the experiences of his mulitcultural company, to try to map out the larger reality of whatever broad subjects he is tackling. "Overreaching" is a sound criticism, but I also agree that in the process, "he achieves an awful lot." So, I don't really know any ballet enthusiasts who enjoy Jones, but I am interested in whatever opinions are posted in response. I admit that I have become completely captivated by him. I find his work incredibly engaging, though often uncomfortable (in many ways-- the first piece I saw had a garage metal band playing incredibly loudly, and the classical music/ballet fan next to me at Fall for Dance told me he thought Jones was way too repetive). It just bothers me so much that writers still flippantly dismiss his work and essentially accuse him of being a cheap pity-seeker. Far less talented artists receive higher praise.

I wish I had seen this a year ago in New York-- they staged it outside Lincoln Center in the summer, but the tickets were very expensive and sold out very quickly (I think there were 3 or less performances). I have heard it is very much an experience, and I am glad to see your reaction to it posted here.

I saw "M and M" last week, and it was quite an experience! They were ballets I had not seen before, and I'd forgotten the awe of seeing a brilliant Balanchine dance for the first time. It was like my first Jewels, or my first Concerto Baroco. Reichlen was beautiful; each arabesque was like a great sailing ship on smooth water. But Krohn in the second piece made my heart race, literally. She was truly exciting, truly alive. I had not seen the Tchaikovsky PDD, either, but I was delighted with it, and with the dancers. Spectacular. The new Wheeldon ballet is, as others have mentioned, different from what I'm used to seeing from him. It is not a lyrical ballet. There were parts that I definitely enjoyed-- the opening section with the girls in the center comes to mind. As I remember, it had a strange energy: it's often quite fast, but not in a typical allegro way, or in a contemporary (sleek/sexy) way. The women in the corps reminded me somewhat of rich, empty headed girls (or, if we were not in the city, I might have said suburban beauty queen types). The kind that talk often and enthusiastically, but don't think much of what they're saying. The dancers were busy, but didn't seem to savor the movement or make anything profound of it. It almost seemed as if it weren't presented for the audience, but rather as a checklist of steps to be done, like errands. I'm not saying that I didn't like it, but it definitely brought up that association. I did enjoy his geometrical explorations of the tutu, but I am not convinced this is anything new. I feel like I've seen this incorporation of the tutu shape into the choreography before. Not sure what to think of the pas de deux (honestly, I don't remember it that well). Weese looked downright doll-like in the hugging pose, which didn't mesh with my ideas of the corps. Most of the pas de deux seemed out of place given the corps work. I'd never seen Fancy Free, either. Good show. Nice to finally see Damien Woetzel dance. I thought parts of it probably could have been sharper, if done by stronger comedic performers.

I am late to this thread, also. Unfortunately, my internet access has been spotty, and I have missed a lot of action on this site. But I did see the Saturday May 13 (eve) performance. I didn't really care for Mother Goose (I have a hard time with a lot of "children's" ballets). However, I was struck by Gwyneth Muller as the Good Fairy. I don't believe I'd seen her dance before, and though it was a small role, she really stood out. I found it strange, however, that her weight seemed way back, particularly noticable when we see her in profile, tendu back. Can anyone more familiar with her dancing comment on this? She was lovely, but her alignment seemed quite unusual. I enjoyed In Vento-- it is a crowd pleaser, after all. Edward Liang was wonderful. All I could think was, at last! A trip to NYCB where the men look fabulous! Who knew? I am not sure what to say about the Symphony in C. I actually thought all of the dancers were students, and sat there aghast wondering why they would cast so many SAB students when the company is so large. After the show, of course, I realized that there were no students in the production, and I was embarrassed for the dancers. Many of them look wonderful in other shows, but here they looked awkward in the directional changes and more often than not, their feet were not pointed in the jumps. I will say that by the fourth movement, Abi Stafford was a relief to watch. In general, I was very disappointed, as I had never seen a full, live production of this ballet. I assume the issue was under-rehearsal, and I hope I will see a spectacular Symphony in C next time.

I'm a bit late, but I saw the program tonight and I have a few comments. I saw Carreno's Apollo last season, as well, and it doesn't quite move me. I hate to say it, but I think it might be his feet. They are just not pliant enough for me to believe they are divine. I did enjoy this performance more than last fall's, but perhaps it was my lowered expectations. I don't see much of ABT (no student rush, sadly), but Gillian Murphy is really something. I love Julie Kent, but I think Murphy's Polyhymnia outshined Kent's Terpsichore. Still, I was pleased with all the muses-- no oversmiling in this cast. I see Jeu de Cartes is not popular on this board. Perhaps I am jaded, but I was so pleased to see a comic ballet that was actually funny. It was slapstick, sure, but sharp. Dvorovenko (Queen of Hearts) was absolutely fabulous, and Sarah Lane (Two of Diamonds) was funny, too. I agree that the second deal was the weakest link, but it seemed to me that the problem was the dancers themselves. They were a funny pack, but when they each took their mini-solos, I was underwhelmed with their technical skills. Lopez's Joker was fine, but he didn't steal the show, and it seems like the Joker should. I love Petrouchka, but had never seen a live production, and this was what brought me out tonight. I enjoyed it very much, though I suspect other productions have been better. I also thought the crowd scenes didn't bustle enough (particularly the opening), but that is my only concrete criticism.

I think part of the Cunningham philosophy is that even by limiting the control over the product (through chance procedures and independence of music and dance), meanings and relationships arise. You can't prevent coincidences, in art or in life. I don't think he "makes it work;" the universe just works that way, and he's been able to show us that. At least, that's how I see it. A year or so ago, he did a piece to music by Radiohead and Sigur Ros. The first night, they played live, and as you might imagine, it was impossible to get tickets. From what I heard, the musicians "cheated," and tried to coordinate themselves with the dancers. I saw the recorded music version, and there is a moment I'll never forget: the music had been soft and sustained (atmospheric, you might say), for a while, and the dancers-- a man and a woman-- were quite still. Suddenly, there was a chime in the music, and the woman developped to the side sharply-- ding! It was so perfect, I had a hard time believing it wasn't planned. But that's just what happens.

Ah, thanks, Leigh. I think I'll stick with "printable versions" rather than going back to IE. *shudder* Here's hoping the website gets an overhaul, so as to be friendlier for Firefox enthusiasts.

This may be a naive question, but what are the chances the DC shows will sell out? I don't usually travel for performances, but I might be in Virginia then anyway, and I feel like I shouldn't miss this...

I should have clarified: I know the set up is strange, and I have been able to use it in the past. But for some reason my computer is not registering the scroll bar-- nothing for me to click and drag. I take it it's just me. But no worries, I figured out that "click here for the printable version" works almost as well.

Thanks, Dale. I've never seen this part of the webpage before. Slightly related: are other people having problems scrolling down on the NYCB webpage? I can't look at dancer bio's past B, any more that the first two photographs on the Front Rown page... it's very frustrating.

Ok, disclaimer: I love Eliot Feld! I have only seen a few of his works (from the Spring 03 Joyce season and his MANDANCE Project), but his aesthetic appeals to me down to the core. So, this is a very biased review. Another disclaimer: I don't usually see NYCB more than 2 or 3 times a season, and only for the past couple years. I had never seen Intermezzo No. 1, and it was much stuffier than I expected (romantic tutus and classical vocabulary and all that). I came to realize that it has a lot of personality, and enjoyed it very much. Jennifer Ringer was so lovely! Her head and shoulders really expressed this beautiful lovesickness, which was perfect for the part. I'm glad it's in the rep. The Unanswered Question: honestly, I feel like I missed something with this one. I hadn't seen it before, and I don't understand why they've been doing it for almost 20 years. If someone has some insight to this, or can point out something I don't see, I'd appreciate it very much. There weren't really any useful program notes. In general, I think Feld use makes excellent use of props, but they seemed really boring in this ballet. The only really interesting part, to me, was the group of silhouetted women (as far as I can tell, Feld's best work is for groups). They made such wonderful shapes, especially with their hands and fingers. And it was exciting to see Maria Kowroski taking all those leggy positions, but in general, all the movement seemed totally monotone. Backchat: I saw this at the MANDANCE Project and loved it! It has three men climbing, bouncing, and hanging from a wall, to this tinkling, hypnotic electronic music. I have to say it was better on Feld's own shorter, boxier dancers-- I think it's a little too acrobatic for NYCB's men, particularly the parts that rely solely on arm and abdominal strength. Essentially, when I saw its premier, it looked like the dancers were in space: they seemed to go up as easily as down, not to mention out perpendicular from the wall. And they had this slow-motion moonbounce suspension to their movement that made it absolutely breathtaking. NYCB's version is flatter and more vertical, but to be fair, part of that is because the State Theater is so much larger than the Joyce's. Etoile Polaire: I guess this was the Diamond Project offering? A solo for Kaitlyn Gilliland. It was fine, a little heavy on the "turning bourrees with pretty arms" kind of stuff, but I thought it was fine. Ugha Bugha: this wasn't in the printed program, but announced in an insert as a world premier for guest dancer Wu-Kang Chen from Feld's Ballet Tech. I'm not sure how appropriate it was to include this on a NYCB evening, but I thought it was great. Chen made a solo of running, tossing his torso around, and standing on his forearms quite exciting-- which in turn showed how far Feld's movement is from City Ballet's comfort zone. Stair Dance: I saw this at MANDANCE, too, and of all the pieces after Intermezzo, I thought it looked best on the company. It's perky and vertical, with some musical theater tinges that I assume NYCB dancers are used to from Robbins' pieces (Stair Dance is an homage to Gregory Hines, "a great dancer and an avatar of cool"). It's also a fun piece to watch; Feld gets a lot of mileage from five people going up and down steps. There is a part where dancers sit on the steps and slump their way down, which looked a little stiff, but in general the dancers seemed pretty comfortable in it. Now, I personally will take Mr. Feld where I can get him, and I'm thrilled that I got to see Backchat and Stair Dance again, stylistic differences aside, but I am curious as to what the audiences think. The couple next to me seemed increasingly alienated (in general, the evening moved from the "safe" to the unfamiliar). They said Backchat "wasn't ballet" (they're right), and then they kept commenting on how "interesting" the following dances were. "This has certainly been an unusual evening," they said on their way out, and I suspect most people felt the same way. As a sidenote, Damien Woetzel was sitting at the end of my row, and I'm curious as to why he wasn't in any of the dances. He was involved in the MANDANCE Project, and it seems appropriate that he would have participated in NYCB's All Feld program. Sadly, I still have never seen him dance.

Yes, the photos of Pedro are quite stunning! I am looking forward to going through these.

I'm curious as to what the ballet is. And I also thank you for the Boal insights.

Some people just can't look past hair color? And Apollo is ususally depicted as blond in the visual arts... Seems like a pretty silly statement, though, about ABT.

Did anyone get a chance to see this? It only played in New York for a week or two, and I haven't seen anything about DVD availability. Apparently, it's "A documentary musical about the rise and fall of Madam Mao's colorful propaganda opera's during the 1965-1975 Cultural Revolution in China and their renewed popularity in modern day China." (source) I am not sure how relevant to ballet it is, but some pictures I've seen suggest that the dancers had ballet training. I can't seem to find the picture, but there is an image I'd seen many times before of 2 female dancers in miliary looking uniforms, in pointe shoes, doing grand jetes and aiming guns, that apparently came from these propaganda operas. Here is a link to the Village Voice review.

Also, I think my Rainer summary was pretty safe, but like I said, I only know about this stuff from books, so if anyone wants to add to or correct my understanding of Rainer's work, please share. I can't wait for her next project!

For her second work in 30 years, Yvonne Rainer added her personal touch on Balanchine's Agon. I absolutely loved it, but before I get into my opinion, here are some links for other perspectives: danceviewtimes review (thanks, kfw!) Movement Research interviews Yvonne Rainer Village Voice review by Deborah Jowitt NYTimes review by John Rockwell The piece that give the best sense of Rainer's piece, I think, was the Times preview, but it's no longer on the website. I could cut and paste it from Lexus Nexus, but I imagine that violates copyright restrictions. Go to the library. There was also something in the April Dance Magazine, I believe. I thought Rainer's Agon was brilliant. For starters, it was very, very funny-- not just in a look-at-the-crazy-things-I-can-get-away-with-in-a-theater way that some other downtown works are "funny." Instead of feeling like the choreographer was putting cheap "laugh here" signs in the work, AG was genuinely hilarious; I was trying hard not to laugh. The work went beyond parody; it was smart and rigorous. I guess if you really had no idea what you were getting into, you would call it irreverent, but I thought it was very respectful. Rainer clearly admires Balanchine and Stravinsky's work, showing off its brilliance even as she makes light of it. In fact, I don't think she was making fun of Agon at all. It was more like she said, hey, look at all the amazing stuff to work with here! I could turn it inside out, set it with non-ballet dancers, even put a section to the Pink Panther song, and it would still look awesome! What's amazing is that shining through all the distortion, there's a whole lot of Agon still there. The pas de deux, in which ballerina Emily Coates is partnered by the three older, downtown, female choreographers, really is recognizably Balanchine the whole way. Her distortions were so witty! For example, instead of having the partner drop dramatically from a lunge to the floor, Coates just switches partners (one was lunging, the other takes her hand only after she is on her back). It's much less difficult technically, but the spirit of suspense and virtuosity is still there-- perhaps after her legacy of being anti-virtuosity, Rainer is now making her commentary from the other side: even easy movement is virtuosity! Either way, it nudges the audience to consider "ordinary" movement and "dance" movement from a new perspective. And it's a tight little piece. Which I guess is what I was trying to say when I said AG was smart and rigorous. It is a fine (and fun) work of art, with legitimate themes and nuanced commentary on ballet, Balanchine, Rainer's own previous work, and who knows what else. I know about the Judson Dance Theater and Grand Union only from books, and judging from their legacy as it exists today (i.e., most of the work at Dance Theater Workshop, see this thread), I was beginning to wonder if the postmodernists had pioneered any worthwhile territory. But AG revealed Rainer as a true, brilliant artist, with a sharp intellect. Her work has purpose beyond look-at-me gimmicks. And, like any great artist, she continues to challenge herself and grow. Each of her dances from the Judson era were intent investigations; the pedestrian-movement, everyday-body, text-incorporating, music-ignoring formulas weren't formulaic then, they were the means to the end. And the end, or goal, was to provoke new ideas about art, bodies, states of being the way we see each other, etc, not to be "sentimental" or "seduce the audience" to passive appreciation of something traditionally beautiful (like, say, ballet). Then, feeling constrained by the medium, Rainer moved into experimental film and continued her investigations there. Now that she is back (and I think, from one of the interviews, she did imply that she would be making more dances), she brings the intellectual rigor and all her artistic gifts to this work which uses pointe shoes and dances to the music, both of which would have seemed unthinkable to Rainer in the 70s. And she outshined everything else I've seen there this season! It was one of the most exciting dance evenings I've ever seen! As an aside, does anyone know if she needed the Balanchine Trust's approval for this project? She thanks them for the use of the video footage in the program, but I don't remember any notes about the steps themselves.

Thank you. For all the struggle that's involved, especially for someone who missed the "dance boom" and only has a few years of reference, I am finding it so exciting to try to figure out work I don't understand, or at least, to figure out what other people see in it. I am already enjoying the experience of comparing views on this board, and am looking forward to discussing actual performances. I will just have to do that now.

I am very confused. I love Lincoln Center, but the number of theaters and organizations is apparently too much for me to comprehend sometimes. I thought ABT does spend their summers at Lincoln Center (the Met). While I would also love to see them at Lincoln Center in the fall (and I will second the call for lower ticket prices), I don't understand what the summer conflict is. Could someone help me? Edit: I guess I should have read the article first. To be clear, this isn't a Lincoln Center complex issue, but just a State Theater issue, right? I didn't know there was an opera company that performed there. Like I said, LC has a lot of organizations to keep track of.

Oh man, I have to comment on this! This might be long-winded, but here goes. I go to NYU. Prior to college, I had no knowlege of postmodern or experimental dance, which I learned about-- pretty extensively-- in my first spring semester. It took a lot of getting used to, and I responded much more to Cunningham's ideas than say, Anna Haplrin's. And frankly, I've mostly stayed away from the downtown dance scene in New York, going to ballet about 5ish times a year, BAM when I can, and way too much at the Joyce. (As a side note, it finally dawned on me that the majority of the work presented at the Joyce is what I now call "contemporary dance lite," something far from daring but just different enough that the casual Lincoln Center-goer or Broadway fanatic can feel like they're slumming it.) As I mentioned in my intro thread, I am very interested in dance writing, and over the past year especially, I've made it a priority in my studies. With one professor, I wrote about BAM/ABT/Joyce events, but now I am working with a professor involved with a downtown-ish publication, and I've written a fair amount on DTW stuff (and Danspace Project at St. Marks Church). Now, on to my conflicted feelings: I love experimentation and avant garde art. I also love art, especially the principles of form. The thing that strikes me as so interesting about earlier experimenters like Nikolais and Cunningham, is that their work really did have a purpose, a philosophy behind it. Even the Judsonites, who were all about stretching art to its limit (is this dance?) had a purpose: to reveal the barest possible dance, to find something essential about art or movement there. I realize that's a tremendous oversimplification of the 60's postmodernists, but I hope you can accept it for argument's sake is. The thing is (and Croce says this quite eloquently in her 1975 review of Laura Dean "Going in Circles"), the experiments of the 60s aren't new anymore (apparently, they were redundant by the mid 70s). I love the idea of using pedestrian movement to make dances, of performing in unusual spaces, and certain other ideas embraced by experimental dance. I've also seen nudity used very effectively. But the downtown stuff I have seen recently, for the most part, doesn't make interesting use of these elements. It doesn't feel new and exciting, relevant, or even interesting. I would disagree, as some have suggested, that all the choroegraphers in this field are "fakes." There is interesting work being made. I agree, however, that there is way way WAY too much cutesy irony, presented to a bunch of hipsters who are too busy feeling proud of themselves for going to an "experimental" dance performance. That's boring. In a lot of ways, my limited exposure to the downtown dance world reveals it to be far from experimental-- I see a lot of recycled gimmicks. As to writing about the work, I have to echo Helene-- it's very intimidating! Even more so, because I am not an established writer/commentator on ballet or modern dance, either. The first performance I went to review this semester was Heather Kravas/Antonija Livingstone. I actually liked the show, but I had no idea how to write about it! There was very very little movement, and I don't have a theater or performance studies background. Plus, I had no idea how the theme of the "villain" played into the piece. I was stuck on that piece forever (I never did write it-- we just moved on). Last week my professor gave me Homans' article, knowing that I've been having difficulty giving fair reviews to the DTW work (I am really opposed to writers who discount entire genres of work-- it happens just as often to ballet as it does to experimental dance). Leigh, I have to agree with you, Homans is being so simplistic! For a dance writer, she doesn't seem to know much about the field ("Modern dancers do not dance" could have been said what, 50 years ago?) I realize that I, as a student, should probably be biting my tongue, and I guess she is just writing for her audience (I can't imagine the New Republic counts a lot of downtown dance junkies among its readership). I really wish that she had commented on something I have actually seen-- why couldn't she have commented on Tere O'Connor or Jane Comfort? Based on what I've seen, I can't actually refute (or support) any of her opinions, which is frustrating, given my personal experience with her subject. On a less related note, once I know for sure if the O'Connor review I wrote will be published (I doubt it, but it's still a possibility), I will share some of it here, if that would be at all appreciated. Also, did anyone catch Sourcing Stravinsky at DTW last week? I am trying to find a thread to rave about Yvonne Rainer's reworking of Agon. I must say, her piece and David Neumann's really affirmed my suspicion that experimental dance can be really wonderful.

Exactly. I think that, in a lot of ways, I haven't been overly susceptible to this as a former ballerina wannabe, because I was always interested in other aspects of the art. Still, for the first year or two I was rather distant to the dance world. It is so upsetting to see former dance students (my age, college-aged) who claim they can't even watch a dance performance because it stings so much emotionally. What a loss for everyone.

I haven't seen a lot of Apollos either, but I love this ballet. Unfortunately, I have never been wowed by the dancer playing Apollo (I wish I'd seen Boal's!) Is there anyone else dancing now who "shouldn't be missed" in this role?