Klavier

With the recession, I haven't been going much to either concerts or ballet this year, and most of my discretionary income has been going to build up my modest little art collection. This year I've seen only the Dancers' Choice at NYCB (much more cohesive than last year's, and a good opportunity for some unsung dancers to shine), the last Midsummernight's Dream on Sunday 6/21 (I think I lucked out with one of the better casts), and this. I decided that rather than see one of the veteran Big Gun teams, it would be more interesting to see this pair of newcomers. I sat a little too close in center orchestra row F, which sounds great on paper but because the auditorium is not raked or the seats well-staggered at that point, it presents sight-line problems if someone even a little on the tall side is ahead of you, and I'm of moderate height (5'9"). I occasionally missed some feet for the heads in front of me, but acoustically it's an excellent spot, and the orchestra sounded pretty good. Having read some complaints here about them, I was prepared for the worst, but there were no major problems. Announced cast changes included Daniil Simkin replacing Jared Matthew as Benvolio. I had heard a lot about him but never seen him before. Tiny little fellow. But he certainly can command a stage, with crisp, precise movements and an engaging presence. As a dance performance, excellent; as a characterization of Shakespeare's Benvolio, nicht so gut. Benvolio (= good will) in the play is the peacemaker, and Daniil was a bit too brash and bravura. He really ought to be seen as Mercutio, where I'm sure he could have nailed the part at least as well as the excellent Craig Salstein. Sorry if I can't share the general awe over Freddie Franklin. He did what he did perfectly well, and I hope I'm 10% as good when I'm 95, but I was just not as wowed by it all as some others were. I was amused by the comment above on Hammoudi's Paris. I felt the same two years ago when seeing the impossibly handsome Grant deLong in the part. But that's just the point. Shakespeare could have portrayed Paris as something of a villain (like Tybalt, executed with perfect malice by Saveliev); instead, he made Paris a model Renaissance gentleman, in contrast to the far more passionate and hot-headed Romeo. Both young leads did very well. This time youth paid off, though of the two, I would probably give the palm to Hee Seo's lyrical, sweet Juliet. Or rather, I would say that she was most effective in her earlier scenes (her first scene was well-nigh perfect), and he gave his strongest performance in the final tomb scene. It is extremely difficult for either lead to get all elements just right. Both lovers are extremely difficult to perform (in the play) because they are transformed overnight from a callow boy and docile girl to two adults of glowing passion. In the play, in fact, Juliet's transformation is even more remarkable than Romeo's. Despite his killing of Tybalt, despite her parents, despite her devoted Nurse, she emerges as fiercely, almost savagely loyal to her young husband and actively hostile to all who oppose him. Here Seo had some trouble really conveying Juliet's maturation, but the fault is less her own than the ballet's clumsy scenario. Complaints have been registered about the harlots, the sword-fighting, and other time-wasting elements. (At least we were spared a quintet of boys in the dramatically superfluous Mandolin number.) But the real problem with the scenario is that so many elements of the play that follow the deaths of Mercutio and Tybalt are passed over in the ballet. In the ballet, 2/3 is over at this point; in the play, we have half to go. And so in the ballet we see nothing of Juliet's reaction to Tybalt's death, of her rejection of the Nurse ("Ancient damnation!" - take note, Mr. Martins), of Romeo's attempt at suicide in the Friar's cell, of the Friar's failed attempt to send a messenger to the exiled Romeo in Mantua, of Romeo's purchase of the poison from the wonderfully ghoulish Apothecary, of the Friar's plan to rescue Juliet from the tomb, of the feuding families' final reconciliation, and more. All of these events and miscarriages in Shakespeare deepen the sense of tragedy and doom. But Act Three of the ballet rarely gets beyond the lyrical. And since the scenario in so many other ways stays close to Shakespeare, these lapses are the more frustrating, giving the main characters only limited opportunity to grow and evolve. But what a relief after the Peter Martins travesty to see actual sets, as well as costumes that look like Renaissance Italy. You could even tell the Montagues and the Capulets apart. Despite any lapses, it's a powerful staging, and there is always that great Prokofiev score.

1) Croce's point, it seems to me, is quite different from your point about Harlequinade. There's a difference between saying that there are dead or weak spots that can be cut from a score in a particular production, and saying that the work just feels long and perhaps any 15 minutes could be trimmed from a performance, but not the same 15 minutes each time. Yes, it's long, but the point I've been trying to make is that while Robbins could have followed Glenn Gould and set the whole thing at about 40 minutes without repeats, the use of repeats is integral to his conception, as he invariably sets each of the repeated sections to different choreography. And so while we're hearing AABB in each variation, we're simultaneously seeing something like ABCD, thus creating a very interesting counterpoint between dance and music. (I think I've given my answer to your point about the work's integrity just now.) 2) What an audience can or can't tell varies enormously among audience members. I'm sure that many people posting here with decades of ballet experience can see aspects of performance that elude me; in turn, having 30+ years of experience listening to the GV has given me a perspective others may not have. Could most spectators discern that this was a single work by a single composer? I think so, as each variation is in the same key and maintains the overall phrase structure of the theme. If one feels negatively about the work, you might consider it monotonous; if you do respond to it, you sense an overall cumulative momentum that takes place over the long span of the composition. One starts to sense the repeated binary construction of each variation, and if another pattern were to be interpolated, like a minuet-trio-minuet, I think it would be immediately sensed as foreign to the basic pattern and style of the work. And I think it fairly easy to discern that some of the variations are brilliant virtuosic pieces, some are imitative (canons and fugues), some are slow expressive arias - and the most expressive aria of all comes in #25, which Robbins naturally set as a pas de deux for the most mature female and male dancers. Of course, the more familiar one is with the GV, the more these characteristics will become obvious. But that's true of any work of art. 3) Please don't get me wrong. Cameron Grant is a very capable pianist, possibly the best piano soloist at NYCB. I've heard him do better (e.g., the Bartok 3rd in Evenfall). He was very effective in the many highly animated portions of the work. Where he fell short in my opinion was in the more expressive slower sections, where I heard very little of the inflection and phrasing that some other performers have brought to this music. Try for instance Charles Rosen's recording for a very different experience of #25; inexpensive used copies of his version are easy to find on Amazon.

I would look at Tripadvisor.com. I wish I could have recommended my favorite Paris hotel from about 12 years ago, the Frémiet in the 16th arrondisement, but it's changed hands and become this exhorbitantly priced boutique thing called the Hotel Sezz. But one property I saw that is quite inexpensive is the Hotel Perfect in Montmartre. It sounds like a cross between a hostel and a hotel, but the price looks right.

The beauty of his playing was not in doubt. But in regards to "shortening" the Goldbergs, are you suggesting that Robbins should have done so, or that Robbins's completed work should now be edited? And if either of these is the case, exactly how and where? Or is the problem with Bach's original structure, in your opinion? Since you are a pianist, I expect you know that Bach created a highly symmetrical structure in the GV - theme; 30 variations divided into two sections of 15 each, and 10 groups of three variations following the pattern of virtuoso toccata, free form piece, and canon. What could be sacrificed without violating the symmetries Bach wrote into the music?

The problem, though, is that it really can’t. Bach wrote the Goldbergs as 30 variations on a theme that is of course heard both at the beginning and the end of the work, and each of the variations is in two sections that are both repeated. Bach did not conceive the GV for public performance, and it was not played complete until the early 19th century, at which time, ETA Hoffmann records, only one person stayed through to the end. Today pianists have three options: take none of the repeats (as Glenn Gould does in his 1955 recording, which weighs in at 38 minutes), take repeats selectively (as Gould did in his 1981 remake, about 51 minutes), or take them all, which makes for a long work of about 80 minutes – just right for a full-length piano recital, as Murray Perahia did at Avery Fisher about 10 years ago. This gives each variation a 4-part structure: AABB. Amanda Vaill says in her biography that Robbins took all the repeats, but that was not exactly true at Sunday’s matinee: #16, the Overture starting Part II, had no repeats; #25, the long slow adagio pas de deux, was played without repeats; and so was the restatement of the theme. I think, but am not positive, that #27, the last of the canons, was also cut, so that following the pas de deux we get three virtuoso variations keeping the momentum going until the finale Quodlibet. Whether Robbins choreographed all the repeated sections originally I can’t say; if so, #25 would have been about 8-9 minutes long in itself. But to come around to my point, in deciding to keep all or most of the repeats, Robbins set himself the challenge of finding contrasting but complementary variants for each of the repeated sections. For example in #13, the Adagio quartet near the end of Part I, AAB conclude with the two sets of partners in close position at the middle of the stage, where the repetition of B finds them exiting in open position at the four corners of the stage. There are probably many moments of this type, and it would take a recording to let me sit down and analyze all the permutations. At the same time, Robbins continually reveals himself listening to Bach and responding musically: the little four-part fugue #10 is set as a quartet of boys imitating each other, with amusing leapfrog rollovers; the fast little trills of #14 have Adam Hendrickson (in a superb performance) jumping with little beats; in the canon at the sixth, #18, Wendy Whelan and Ben Millipied are seen in playful hip waggling to mirror the imitative texture of the music. The most exhilarating section, however, is the final Quodlibet, variation 30, which Robbins treats as the climax of the work before it dissolves into the repetition of the theme. Here, in this mixture of several folksongs, Robbins brings back his entire cast in splendid 18th-century costume, and finds all kinds of complex group movements before ending in a diagonal tableau at the final cadence. I have seen this work only twice, once three years ago, and this moment was as stunning now as it was then. GV is such an ensemble piece that it’s hard to single out any one dancer. But as a musically inclined person I must offer some mixed reactions to Cameron Grant’s pianism. Anyone who knows this music first-hand knows it requires extreme virtuosity. The obvious rapid figuration is only part of it; however, the real technical difficulty comes with mastering the numerous passages that call for intricate hand-crossing. This is more a problem for the piano than for Bach’s original harpsichord, as he expected a 2-manual keyboard where the hand-crossings would not have been an issue. It is playable on the piano all the same, and anyone who can master it technically deserves applause. Grant was more than equal to the technical demands, but tempos in a number of the variations, such as #15, the slow movement in G minor, tended to be quite slow, and I don’t know if this is what Robbins wanted or what Grant worked out with the dancers. But even that wouldn’t have been a problem had Grant found more dynamic inflection in the music. Playing the same Kawai grand on which Richard Moredock two nights ago had banged out Chopin’s B minor scherzo, Grant’s tone was infinitely more refined; but in the more emotional slow variations he did little more than competently play the notes. As many modern recordings will demonstrate, there’s a lot more to say with this music. Following intermission (at last! some no doubt thought), we had the Brahms Handel Variations in Edmund Rubbra’s dreadful, unidiomatic orchestration. This Robbins-Tharp effort looked promising at first, with a striking blue background and exciting blue costumes. And then exciting green costumes. I could have lived without it. Compared to the mature mastery of the Goldbergs, the whole thing looked unsettled. The set and costumes grew tiresome after a while. Once the Green Team entered carrying Wendy Whelan aloft, I just turned off and wished I had left at the break, with only the memory of Bach’s glorious music and Robbins’s glorious choreography to take with me into the rain.

I haven't yet read Lobenthal, but regarding the photos, "pornographic" seems too strong a word for me. Still, I do think the photos are a bit too self-consciously "arty," and their carefully composed symmetries deprive them of any sense of spontaneity. E.g: parallel to the much-discussed ballerinas photo, he has one in which 24 shirtless men clad solely in tights are shot from above lying on their backs on a marble floor - I can't identify this particular location. And though this pose does not look as agonizing as lying over three seats in the orchestra section, the floor does look cold and uncomfortable. The outer group of 8 are taken with their limbs close to their bodies; the limbs of the inner group of 16 are spread out to look like X's. I can't identify most of the dancers. Whatever else, this photo certainly minimizes the dancers' individualities and makes them look more like elements in a design. And elements of a design, rather than strong individuality, is what one senses in many large ensembles in ballet, such as the conclusion of Symphony in C. The question is whether this use of photography undermines Froman's apparent attempt to make us think of the dancers as people - which he does very successfully through both words and pictures in his published book.

Carbro, did you see my comment on this photo in one of my previous posts?

I think the first Dancers' Emergency Fund Benefits were held when Balanchine was still alive. Someone please correct me if I'm mistaken. Undoubtedly true. My point was that this was the first to be a "dancer's choice" ("an evening showing such initiative on the dancers' parts").

I thought the Hendrickson/Severini ballet was a well-crafted if not strikingly individual effort. Aaron Severini's music is more notable for motoric energy than lyricism; I can't say it struck me as particularly memorable in itself, but it did move the action along - musique dansante for our 21st century. The lighting and staging were quite effective - a red-orange background with the two black grand pianos (expertly played, Stephen Gosling being one of the best-known performers of modern piano music working in NY today) situated facing the rear wall, and the four boys clad in black. Was it a coincidence that three of these four were Romeos from last year's extravaganza (Seth Orza having departed)? Don't know, but the plot seemed to involve Sean Suozzi (a personal favorite or mine) breaking away from his buddies to be drawn into romance, then losing the girl, then getting her again. I rather liked the ballet without being overwhelmed (and please don't ask me what the title means), but more charming was the little film of Adam and Aaron shown before their piece started. And certainly one of the higher points of the night was the other little film showing NYCB stars when they were very young. The Fairchild and Stafford siblings, the team of Sara Mearns and Christian Tworzyanski (who knew they were an item at age 10?), and more. Although I couldn't catch all the words, it was very funny and sweet, and led naturally into that finale of finales, the Bizet Symphony - after which everybody who had taken part that evening (Peter Martins conspicuously absent) crowded the stage and we all got out about 10 minutes to 11. Leaving the theater, I spotted a few rows behind me a certain well-known, tall, blond, American danseur noble who plies his trade at the other opera house 90 degrees from the State, and I wondered if an evening showing such initiative on the dancers' parts and overall warmth of feeling between dancers and audience could have taken place at ABT. Or, for that matter, at NYCB if Balanchine had still been around. For this, I think we have to thank the sometimes maligned Peter Martins as much as anybody. (Back tomorrow to talk about the Goldberg Variations.)

Entirely possible, perfectly reasonable, and that thought had not occurred to me (nor did Martins make that point). But to continue, one of the nicer aspects of the evening is that a number of the younger people were given a chance to take the spotlight, and I'd like to think the absence of many of the principals (Evans, Whelan, Millepied, Borree, N. Martins, DeLuz, Askegard, Kowroski) might have been intended for them to give more attention to their less high-ranking colleagues. And so we saw relatively unfamiliar talent like Troy Schumacher and Gretchen Smith in featured roles, along with many more conspicuous names. And of course if everybody had danced we'd be all going home at 1 in the morning, and all the profits would be eaten up by time and a half for the orchestra and stagehands. Of course, some of the dancers took off-stage roles too as their contributions to the evening. Among the most conspicuous was Kyle Froman, who already has published a refreshingly candid photobook of a day in the life of a dancer, with Martins's evident approval. As we all walked into the theatre, each of the four entryways was populated not only by a ticket taker (I usually give mine to the amiable short bald fellow at orchestra right) but by a boy and girl apprentice or corps members who delivered us a booklet of Kyle's latest photos. These are more self-consciously arty than the candids in his earlier book, but some of the images are striking indeed: most notably, two dozen ballerinas all in white lying face up (in what looks like an agonizing position) along the plush red-lined seats at the rear of the orchestra section, with one more female dancer sitting more normally in the first ring. Accompanying this is a caption from Jerome Robbins, "Wait a minute. These are people. They're not objects" - highly ironic, as "objects" are exactly what the photo conveys, with minimal individualization among these dancers and a pose no normal person would ever take voluntarily. Or perhaps the implication is: "Don't conclude too readily that these are just beautiful objects. Each one has a personality you don't know or see." The caption makes a decidedly odd photograph look tantalizingly ambiguous. (I'll stop here and post before continuing.)

Just to start: This was an event that would have been well worth while even if most things had not gone so well. Drb has already covered the least successful aspect of the evening quite successfully, that is, the 15 minutes of speechifying between Peter Martins and Jonathan Stafford, and put his finger on the odd discrepancy between previous benefits that had lost money while this one was expected to make money with tickets at half price. Hopefully NYCB has worked all this out with the accountants, and perhaps the Silent Auction was expected to draw enough donors with deep pockets to have turned the tide. The other slightly off-putting admission on Martins's part was that he insisted the dancers choose works from City Ballet's existing repertory. Why, really? What if Andrew Veyette wants nothing more than to dance Death from The Green Table (hey, you never know)? Should he be denied? And if the dancers could only choose from existing NYCB repertory, how come we got a world premiere from the team of Hendrickson and Severini? Ours is not to reason why. That said, much of the dancing was on a very high level, even though ironically - given NYCB's range of some 238 ballets - quite a few ballets chosen were the same fare one could see in many a recent season: Jewels, Symphony in C, Square Dance, Dances at a Gathering, Union Jack, Stars and Stripes - nothing very unusual there. The opening sequence matched Daniel Ulbricht with Ashley Bouder and Ellen Bar in one movement from Rubies, and although technically they were all impressive - especially Danny's accelerating pirouette exit to stage right - I didn't sense the kind of chemistry between the two principals that I had when seeing Ashley dance this role with Benjamin Millepied. Male-female chemistry was much more in evidence in three pas de deux that provided the emotional intensity of the evening: first Janie Taylor and Craig Hall in Martins's Purple, then Sara Mearns and Stephen Hanna in the Martins Beethoven Romance, and last but perhaps best of all, Abi Stafford and Tyler Angle in the slow movement from Wheeldon's Mercurial Manoeuvres, the "lesser-known" ballet I would most want to see again. (More later tonight, on Hendrickson/Severini, Savannah and Troy, and Kyle Froman's photobook.)

I have it on good authority that the real Prodigal was quite short, and his rebelliousness was a direct consequence of his feelings of inferiority about his height.

This was a program that might have been better for the City Center season rather than the Met. Word of mouth (or bad reviews) must have gotten out, because I have rarely seen so many empty seats at the Met on a Saturday night (even when the bill of fare is Wozzeck or Moses und Aron). Whoever said (carbro, I think) that Etudes should be re-orchestrated is exactly right; in fact, better to have played these Czerny pieces on a solo piano as written. The orchestration was positively ugly; the dancing - well, Reyes, Radesky, and Ilyin did all they could with these not very coherent little snippets. Viewed from the Dress Circle, the (unintentionally) funniest thing was when the corps girls alternated black and white tutus on a diagonal to upstage left; all I could think of were black-and-white cookies. But this was the better of the two halves. I had not read any exposition of Tharp's "meaning" in constructing Rabbit and Rogue before seeing the piece, and I would like to think a viewer can grasp something of the narrative of a ballet without having to be told in a program note or review. But despite the laudable contributions of Stiefel, Cornejo, Hallberg, Gillian Murphy, Salstein, Herrera, and Saveliev, I could make nothing out of the piece. Stiefel and Cornejo butt heads once in a while, yet somehow they emerge friends at the end; Salstein keeps running around for no apparent reason; the boys take off their shirts (was it the 98 degree heat?); two other couples come in and out; and the whole confusing thing is done to Danny Elfman's generic, derivative music. Phooey. I like Tharp in a full-throttle piece like Upper Room, but this was too long and drawn out, without the driving energy she shows in the earlier piece, and if there was a story I couldn't find it. This is my only time seeing ABT this season; there are just so many of these evening-length 19-century blockbusters I can take, and I was hoping this would be a refreshing alternative. I shoulda stuck with Swan Lake.

I'll say some more tomorrow myself. Busy day today. I thought it was quite a special night at NYCB.

But no thoughts from you, drb, about that thrilling Les Noces?

NOTE FROM BART: At the suggestion of Jack Reed, I attempted to move these posts from the Program IV thread to one devoted only to the touring performance at the Tilles Center on Long Island. Unfortunately -- -- I merged the posts instead of moving them. That means everything appears under the name of the first poster, Klavier. I've gone through the posts and tried to insert the name of each person. I hope I got it right. Many, Many apologies from a technological buffoon. :blush: :blush: ________________________________________________________________________________ ______________________ From Klavier: Hi, everybody. I can't think of a better place to post this, so here goes. I will be seeing the MCB for the first time later this month when they tour at the Tilles Center in Long Island. The program includes Raymonda Variations, Tarantella, and In the Upper Room. Which dancers should I particularly watch for? Thanks. Kl. ________________________________________________________________________________ ______________________ From cubanmiamiboy: In a personal descending preference order: Sarabita (Rolando Sarabia). Then, Jeremy Cox, Isanusi Garcia, Renato Panteado and Alex Wong among the men..About the ballerinas, Jeannette Delgado, Deanna Seay, Jennifer Kronemberg and Tricia Albertson. For Tarantella, i hope you get to see Jeanette Delgado/Renato Panteado. For Raymonda Variations, Sarabita and Seay. In the Upper Room...whatever... ________________________________________________________________________________ ____________________ From Bart: Klavier, I hope you enjoy it! When we lived up there, I only saw orchestra performances at the Tilles, and I wonder how the stage will work for ballet. I don't recall it as being particularly large. I agree with Cristian's choices and would like to add a few. Raymonda Variations was performed down here last season. Look for Mary Carmen Catoya especially. I would keep an eye out for her in anything; she's having a great season. Upper Room, also from last season, had a team of excellent "stompers" chosen by Tharp. Cristian has already mentioned Cox and Wong. I'd definitely add Daniel Baker (you'll recognize him; he's young and very blond). The ensemble (corps etc.) was excellent in this as well.) There's not much in this program for one of my favorite dancers, Jennifer Kronenberg. However, last season she (with Deanna Seay) was an excellent "china doll" in the Tharp. For a discussion of the Tharp and the Raymonda (from the archives): http://ballettalk.invisionzone.com/index.php?showtopic=23986 Please report on the Tilles performance in DETAIL! ________________________________________________________________________________ ____________________ From Klavier: Thanks to both of you. I'll write as much as I can! ________________________________________________________________________________ ___________ From cubanmiamiboy: Yes, bart...Baker always seems to stand out, and i notice a particularly well developed partnership skills on him, specifically during liftings...A friend of mine also told me that he was great in Brodward during one of the few things from "Nightspot" that i actually liked...that striking male solo performed the three times here in Miami by Jeremy Cox.(You know, the one showing off those great extensions ) From Klavier: Of the names Cubanmiami and Bart supplied, most were represented at the Tilles Center on Saturday except Sarabita and Garcia. The program consisted of: Raymonda Vars - Catoya, Penteado Sonatine - Wu, Cox Taranetella - Albertson, Wong (on Friday it was Delgado, Wong) Upper Room - Kronenberg, Delgado, Wong, Cox, Baker, Albertson, Seay, Catoya, Bramarz, LA Esty, Dufaur, S Esty, Satterfield. The stage is not huge, but you need to know where to sit, and if you're too close the sight lines are wretched. I was in Orchestra L132, which is good for seeing the stage, but the guy in front of me was tall enough that I had to keep adjusting my head to see the center of the stage - the seats are not well banked. But apparently Villella likes the venue enough to come back here rather than Manhattan. And I like not having to get in, around, and out of the city! http://www.ticketmaster.com/seatingchart/131/21249 But you want to know about the dancing. For RV, I was most impressed by Catoya, who seems a small, but very precise dancer. I liked the articulation of her phrasing, in that every movement seemed carefully placed and not just generic. She was particularly impressive in the penultimate variation, where she has to do some kicking move towards the knee that I can't identify (I wish I knew some of the terminology). He was also a precise dancer, well-matched to her height, though for a man of moderate height he was not a huge jumper. He caught her in a fish at the very end that was spectacular. The corps was dressed in lilac and I could not tell who was who - the demi-soloists were apparently Knox, Zien, Delgado, Manning, and Spirikonakos, though I think Sara Esty was announced for the harp variation. I especially like the variation where the one girl has to travel all the way to stage right on pointe, with only one leg on the ground and the other suspended at a right angle behind her. The set looked kind of cheesy and it's a disappointment hearing a tape, especially given a weak sound system. Intermission, then two PDDs against a blue background with solo piano (the excellent Francisco Rennó, who transcribed Tarantella as a solo, though I prefer the orchestral version). Wu and Cox are well matched, she very delicate and fragile, he taller and a very understated virtuoso, someone who even in his most demanding moments never loses lyricism or seems to be showing off for its own sake. The ending of the first movement, where they exit upstage left with him walking backwards while they both are holding hands held high over their heads (such alliteration!), must be very difficult, but it appeared effortless. Only at the end of the third movement did I sense "fireworks"; otherwise it was very clean, elegant, retrained dancing. Even Tarantella was not the "fireworks" I'm used to from City Ballet. It was somehow lighter, more buoyant, less the go-for-broke experience I know. Even though both partners used a tambourine, neither instrument seemed in danger of breaking. And this sums up for me the main difference I sense between NYCB and MCB: MCB on first acquaintance appeared more consistent, more elegant. While the highs NYCB can achieve are perhaps higher, the lows are lower too. But MCB seemed to have a sense of detailed phrasing sometimes lacking at NYCB. The corps was very clean in Raymonda, for example; when the girls held out their arms at their sides they all struck the same position, rather than NYCB's tendency for every corps member to assume an arm position of her own. With the Upper Room, the sound system was quite loud enough (though not the ear-splitting rock concert it was for ABT at City Center last year). For once, and in contrast to the interminable pseudo-Eastern pretensions of Satyagraha, Philip Glass's constant repetitions made sense as an accompaniemnt to Twyla Tharp's driving motoric inventions. Impossible to single out more than a couple of people in such a tight ensemble, but certainly the very blond Daniel Baker was a standout for his forceful energy, and Alexandre Dufaur (I think it was he) impressed with his feline grace. Excellent night on the whole. ________________________________________________________________________________ _______________ From Bart: Thanks for the vivid, detailed report, Klavier. Was it a good sized house? How did the audience respond? Also at the Tilles were Jennifer Dunning of the Times http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/28/arts/dan...llet&st=nyt and Mary Cargill of DanceViewTimes http://www.danceviewtimes.com/2008/04/miami-city-ball.html. Dunning's offhand comment on Sonatine is really puzzling, especially when compared to what the rest of us on Ballet Talk, and the other reviewers, too, thought about it. It's odd enough to quote in full: Sonatine, while not a great ballet, is a lovely and wonderful vehicle for dancing. The difference between the Wu/Cox partnership and the Seay/Bramaz first-cast partnership demonstrates that it can support a number of approaches. I like Cargill's image of the dancing as having "an improvisational, conversational quality ... with a limpid spontaneity that came across as a whisper." Thanks to Helene and dirac for the Links to these reviews. ________________________________________________________________________________ _________________ From Klavier: I don’t know what Dunning is about either. The pianist had "the right sumptuous simplicity" (good) but the dancing was "unembroidered" (presumably bad)? "May come to its fullest life" – why hedge, Jennifer? I would think too that if Verdy and Bonnefous/x staged the ballet for MCB, they knew what they wanted, and a "sense of Gallic espritâ" includes a kind of conversational insouciance such as Wu and Cox displayed. Otherwise I was amused to see that Mary Cargill’s review echoed many of my own points, such as her comments on the tinny sound system and the greater restraint shown in Tarantella than we get here in New York. I presume Villella (whom I did not see in the house on Saturday) had something to do with that approach, and it's one that NYCB could learn from (not that I don't love seeing it in NYCB's more brash, go-for-broke version). The house on my night was quite full and there was a will-call line. All but the closest seats were filled. The audience was not as wild as you’d get at ABT or NYCB when one of their popular principals retires, but they were solidly appreciative. On the Winger blog, btw, Alex Wong states that the Tilles stage, while wide, is rather shallow, which created some challenges for the dancers for example when they had to form diagonals. He also tells us that MCB is coming to Manhattan in 01/09, which means that instead of seeing them through the somewhat mediocre sight lines of the Tilles Center, we can all see them through the semi-disastrous sight lines of the City Center. ________________________________________________________________________________ _________________ From Bart: Now THAT is good news. (Not the sight-lines, I mean the appearance in Manhattan.)________________________________________________________________________________ ___________________ From Amy Reusch: From NYCB site: Did no single piano version exist? It seems odd for a famous composer of piano music...

I would prefer for you to see Bouder/Ulbricht in Tarantella over Hyltin/Garcia if you can manage it. I'd say any chance to see, in addition to those two firecrackers, dancers like Woetzel, Taylor, Whelan, Reichlin, and Hubbe is worth taking. I would have added Kowroski, but I don't see her name announced anywhere. Like several others here, I'm somewhat disappointed in the choice of repertoire you've been given. Of all the great things we could have sent you - Prodigal Son, Fancy Free, Four Temperaments, Firebird, any or all of Jewels - you're getting some less than stellar ballets. But it's great that you're getting Agon, Serenade, Bizet Symphony - some of my favorite ballets of all time.

Anyone who attends City Ballet performances regularly knows that Daniel Ulbricht is if nothing else a crowd-pleaser. His jumping, splits, and pirouettes show great virtuosity and athleticism; he is also an ideal bad boy character for such roles as Puck, the Swan Lake jester, and the short sailor in Fancy Free, as well as extrovert allegro parts like Tarantella. Uh, yes, he's a bit short. Not exactly a midget, mind you, but of medium height, sort of like his counterpart at ABT, the phenomenal Herman Cornejo - which means neither man fits into the danseur noble mold and both are more likely to be thought of as character dancers. I think as a technician Cornejo has it over Ulbricht, but that's nothing for anyone to be ashamed of; I remember reading some reviewer claim that Cornejo is the most technically accomplished male dancer in the US today. But despite my overall enthusiasm for Ulbricht's performances, I also have had some reservations; he has tended to upstage his colleagues (especially in Swan Lake), he sometimes mugs too much, and he has seemed in danger of becoming a 1-trick pony who hasn't quite the range of (say) Sean Suozzi, to name another City Ballet dancer I always especially look forward to seeing. Or perhaps Daniel just hasn't been given the right opportunity to show any greater range. Until last Sunday, that is. No doubt this was a make-or-break moment for Daniel Ulbricht, as the lead roles in R+J were for the young people like Robby Fairchild and Erica Pereira who essayed them last year. And the intent of the casting was similar - have someone very young play someone very young. There was no doubt that Daniel, who can still pass for 17, would have the athletic ability for the part. But could he carry off the emotional demands - the defiance, the arrogance, the seduction, the final crawling back to the Father? I think he did it very well. I have otherwise seen only Baryshnikov in the role, both live a zillion years ago and on DVD last week, and I think Daniel modeled his characterization on the great Russian to a degree. But there was also the bad-boy cockiness that seems integral to an Ulbricht performance, and in his confrontations with the bald creatures he at first came across as naive and open. I'm not so sure he carried off the seduction scenes with Theresa Reichlen; here the height differential was bothersome, especially with her tall headress, but he did suggest a teenage kid aware of sex for the first time in his life. The ending scene, however, where he crawls home and finally lands in the arms of his father, was just about perfect in my mind. Here he came across as a lost little boy, contrite and ashamed, and the final tableau was very moving. If anything marred the effect, it was that Jonathan Stafford's makeup failed to make him look enough like an old man. Minor, however, and the audience called both principals back repeatedly. With Daniel we seem to get a characteristically American, open, brash type of personality performing a work that could be set in a remote Biblical time and place; with Nikolaj Hubbe in Square Dance we got a classically trained European dancer performing in a work based on American folk tradition. Both he and Megan Fairchild did a splendid job; and to cap off the long but eventful afternoon we had The Four Seasons to some of Verdi's (I'm afraid tritest) music. This was bracingly done throughout, with especially notable contributions from Ashley Bouder in Fall and Antonio Carmena doing the Ulbricht thing in the same season. Benjamin Millepied slipped in his first combination but otherwise held his own; and in the other seasons I was especially taken by Jared Angle in Spring and Sterling Hyltin in winter - ably flanked by Sean Suozzi and Christan Tworzyanski, a hard-working corps dancer who deserves more exposure. The music under Karoui was also very well done; I really think the City Ballet Orchestra has improved greatly over the past few years. I haven't seen much ballet of late (I boycotted all performances this past season of George Balanchine's The Nutcracker ), and before Sunday I went to only one other performance this season, where I saw Le Tombeau de Couperin (marvelous opportunity for the corps), Tarentella with Daniel and Megan (exhilarating), Bugaku (weird, faux Japonais crap I hope never to see again), and Sonnambula (also weird, but Hubbe was super, and how did Wendy Whelan hold him without dropping him at the end?). So I was not overexposed, and very much looking forward to this performance. It did not let me down.

The whole issue of historical performance of music (and the music that is affected goes back through the medieval period through at least the early 19th century) is extremely controversial, with extreme opinions varying from the idea that this music must only be performed on early instruments in accordance with the best research on early performance style, to the contrasting idea that it is impossible to recover an accurate understanding of how this music was performed and to attempt to do so is to jettison performance practices that have emerged from the later 19th century onwards. And all kinds of positions in between. For example, there have been decades of notable performances of Beethoven symphonies recorded in the early 20th century by conductors like Toscanini, Furtwängler, Szell, Walter, Klemperer, et al., all on modern instruments and, despite many differences among them, relying on accumulated traditions of phrasing and tempo that have been passed down since the mid 19th century. And then there are the newer crowd of conductors like Gardiner and Harnoncourt who use period instruments and who often adopt the metronome markings Beethoven entered that many older conductors considered impossibly fast. Another notable controversy has to deal with the size of the choir to be used in performing Bach. No one any more will use the enormous choirs associated with Victorian performances of Handel's Messiah. But howls have greeted recent suggestions by certain historically influenced (or HIP) performers who are now suggesting the use of one voice per part for Bach's cantatas and masses. All sorts of other controversies center around tempo, ornamentation, instrumentation, vocal production, and phrasing. So while the notation of music is doubtless more exact than that for ballet, there are numerous open questions, and even those who recognize that Bach was performed a certain way in his lifetime will ask: "Do we perform the St. Matthew Passion the way Bach would have wanted it, or do we reproduce the conditions he had to settle for?"

... now you can see R&J, courtesy of Mr. Morris. The following just reached my e-mail from Lincoln Center: It will be interesting to see what motivs Mr. Morris chooses to choreograph, and how they compare to the motivs selected by Mr. Martins et al. Will there be a slap? will his version be in three acts? will there be a unit set? will R+J - er - R&J be nude? will Tybalt be costumed as a Colorado potato beetle? Mark the date on your calendars! (May 14-17 of 2009, so there's time.)

At this point (2 pm) the site is "pausing" submissions to catch up. I would have applied, but to see the ballet over two days would be prohibitive for someone like myself coming from out of town. Good idea on their part, though, and much better than forcing people to stand in line for hours as with R + J last year.

Ah, but that would take all the color out of the writing, too. How can you resist rushing to the box office when you read: "Nothing so opened the American mind or forged our national character as did the exploration of the American frontier. Western Symphony is a bonanza of frisky fillies and lonesome cowpokes whose rousing, non-stop finale brings the curtain down." Quite right. I couldn't come with something like that in a zillion years.

Well, to each his or her own. But I write for a living and would be happy to serve, so long as the compensation was attractive. At least under my watch you wouldn't encounter bizarrely structured sentences like this one: "In January 2005, Mr. Ulbricht was promoted to the rank of soloist and principal dancer in May 2007."

I thought my computer monitor had lost color. But no, it looks as though www.nycballet.com has undergone a facelift - not to take away the grey, as some of us would like to do to our aging hair, but to add more of it. Despite the difficulty of navigation and (my continual pet peeve) the inability to make individual seat selections, the site at least used to look good. Now it's this ugly black-and-white thingy. What were they thinking?

I would like to see Sean as Coffee. - Klavier (taking a sabbatical from all Nutcrackers this year)