Klavier

The main problem with blogs is that they (and their authors) are in no way vetted. A dance reviewer for the New York Times at least has to have been invited by the editorial staff of the paper to join; a blogger needs no more credentials than the ability to register a domain name. Of course there are bloggers well worth reading who have much to say, but there also are bloggers whose writing would never see publication if they weren't able to publish themselves on the Internet. On a classical music forum I frequent, one poster refers continually to a blogger he considers the world's great expert on the music of a certain major composer. It's obvious to everyone on the forum that the poster and the blogger are the same person, and when I asked the poster to specify the blogger's credentials and publications, I was met with indignant hemming and hawing. It's bad enough that refereed books and articles can be published laden with inaccuracies and questionable argumentation; magnify the situation tenfold and you've got the Internet at its worst. But of course on the other hand, the Internet at its best provides knowledgeable people from all walks of life the chance to communicate their experiences and expertise, without the rituals, politics, and economics of traditional publication.

Off to the boonies again! (I'm going to hear from bart on that.) Me, too! Patchogue is only a 20-minute drive from me. But good news for us who live in the, er, boonies. I'd like to see how you ballet stalwarts would cope with coming into the city from Long Island 2-3 days a week!

Not at all. I was more than happy with what I saw.

I suppose if I had planned this weekend "right," I would have gone to Nichols's farewell on Friday, Ferri's farewell yesterday, and Bouder's Rubies this afternoon. As it was, since I'm taking this week off, I knew my boss would pile as much work on me as possible Friday afternoon (and he did), making Friday impossible; I doubted I could get into the Ferri extravaganza; and I picked up a beautiful orchestra ticket to NYCB's Jewels yesterday night. So I decided instead to see Nichols in Davidsbündlertänze a week earlier and Ferri in last Thursday's Manon with Bolle; and those were my farewells to these two ladies. I hope they managed without me. At 7:15, the Lincoln Center plaza was packed to the gills with Midsummer swingers, Mahler fans headed into Fisher to hear Maazel's Mahler 7th, and balletgoers. I couldn't resist hanging around the entrance to the Met, watching the usual ballet of wannabees trying to get a last-minute ticket to Ferri's Farewell. All those index fingers vainly pointing up at the air; twenties and hundreds flashing; "Need one ticket" signs! I wonder if any of them got in. And look! - there's David Hallberg in a nice blue blazer and open-throated white shirt talking to admirers, there's Tom Gold and Philip Neal, here comes Wendy Whelan! I was half-expecting the State Theater to be empty, with the company playing to an audience of one. I needn't have worried. I walked in, gave my ticket as usual to the pleasant bald-headed man at stage left, and had an excellent time watching two hours of Balanchine. Oh yes, you want to hear about the dancing. Of the three segments, one was very good, one good, and one an absolute knockout. Guess which. The very good was Emeralds, especially Sara Mearns and Ask laCour in the "walking" PDD, but Rachel Rutherford and Stephen Hanna did fine with the other duet. (Please don't shoot me if I got these two couples mixed up. I think I got these names right, but I don't always have the best visual memory.) Robby Fairchild showed an appealing stage presence coupled with Ashley Laracey and Megan LeCrone. The good was Diamonds, not so much because of Maria Kowrowski, who was fine, but mainly because Charles Askegard strikes me as so bland and uninvolved. Come to think of it, this seems to be a problem with several of NYCB's principal men, of whom the unspeakable Nilas Martins is only the worst offender. But except for the elegant Philip Neal and of course Albert Evans, a number of the NYCB's taller principals (Hanna too) strike me a little more than ciphers. And from where I sat, the orchestra sounded simply too small to give this music the richness it needs. I don't blame the excellent Clotilde Otranto for this; here is a conductor who lets the music breathe and phrase, who supports the dancers rather than busting their guts, and she was especially good in the Fauré. I have heard crisper Stravinsky conducting, and I'm on the fence about Savannah Lowery. She's all right, but she's a kind of big, fleshy girl, and I think I want someone lighter and more pointed for Rubies. And given these minor reservations, this section of the trilogy was a triumph. The stage set this time really works. (I never saw the original sets, but I can understand why others would object to the ones for Emeralds and Diamonds.) The corps, especially the four boys - Laurent, Peiffer, Schumacher, and Villalobos - were crisp and alert. But the night belonged to Ashley Bouder and Benjamin Millepied. During the second movement especially, I was continually taken by how inventively Balanchine counterpoints the musical lines, sometimes reinforcing the music, sometimes playing against it. Since I have the POB DVD, I could sit down and try to work out an analysis. And the two principals were witty, sly, engaged, sharp, pointed, without ever lapsing into exaggeration. I loved the erotic subtext between the two, the undertone of "just wait until I get you home tonight!" Ashley's extensions, her dips, and the sly little business with just the one finger at the end of the movement, were all phenomenal; and Benjamin was with her beat for beat. The always dependable Cameron Grant came through as well at the piano. The audience appeared to love the Tchaikovsky more than I did, but it gave full due to the Rubies also. Some of you went home thinking, "I saw Ferri's last performance at ABT tonight!" But I went home thinking: "Yeah, but you didn't see Bouder's debut in Rubies!"

Just wait until you see Bouder and Millepied in Rubies . . . (more tomorrow, or rather later today).

I can't say I experienced the deficiencies you allege. IMO, Cameron Grant is the strongest of the solo pianists performing for NYCB; I found his work this past Sunday much more satisfactory than the uninflected, workaday account of the Dances at a Gathering pieces presented two weeks ago by Susan Walters. This may not have been a Davidsbuendlertaenze to match the ones by Alfred Cortot or Charles Rosen, to mention my favorite recordings, but I didn't sense any lack of coherence in Cameron's performance. But there's no question of the difficulty of this music for the pianist. I can manage most of them myself on my home piano (just barely), but I expect the balletgoer whose eye is trained to focus on the dancers may not always be aware of how awkward and problematic Schumann's writing is for the pianist.

How so? this suite of 18 pieces is not very tightly organized to begin with, the only overt coherence being the repetition of #2 in #17. Otherwise they present a loosely structured succession of moods representing what Schumann saw as the two sides of his nature - impulsive Florestan and dreamy Eusebius.

DrB, Did you notice that Craig at one point touched both hands to the floor? Was that in the choreography, or did he have a momentary slip?

You're right Klavier. Roberto Bolle was born on March 26, 1975. He's 32. I sure hope I look that good when I turn 32.

Hnh? Ferri is 44; Bolle 32. I am arithmetically challenged here. When Bolle danced in the recent Aida that Alagna quit, there were reviews that made it sound like Bolle is in his mid 20's. I don't know his career, and I was surprised to read in one of the recent Links articles that he is 32. Several web sites (but not his own personal site) give his birthdate as March 26, 1975. I can only echo all the comments above. This was the second time I've seen Manon at ABT, the first with Ferri/Bocca at his farewell, and both performances were transcendent. What a sweeping choreographic narrative, compared to Peter Martins's uncertain, timid R+J. What a fully realized production, compared to ABT's caricatural Sleeping Beauty. And what erotic energy from the two stars. This must rank as one of the greatest performances I've ever seen of anything. (And yes, that was Sasha behind that fake mustache.)

I see no reason for you to apologize. It's an open enough secret that a claim "illness" can be a euphemism for all kinds of reasons to cancel, one of which can actually be illness. If I recall correctly, Joseph Volpe admits as much in his recent memoir, when discussing the Battle and Gheorghiu/Alagna skirmishes. What struck me as odd was how four of the announced principals were replaced on a single night. It was understandable that David Hallberg should not have been pressed into duty twice on one day, but he was not listed as "ill." And Gelsey Kirkland's being treated for a burn is entirely credible. As for the rest, I'd say the situation struck me as odd. And I'll leave it at that.

Mebbe she really was sick.

Why? is there any reason to believe she wasn't truly "ill"? This reminds me of the time I had tickets to a matinee of Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, starring Vanessa Redgrave. The performance was cancelled, but somehow the actress made a miraculous recovery and performed that evening. Must've been some bug going around. I bought my ticket expecting to see Vishneva, Hallberg, Cornejo, Reyes, and Kirkland. I saw Herrera, Corella, Lopez, Lane, and 1/2 Kirkland, 1/2 Boone. Disappointed? yes, but with one exception I didn't mind the replacements. Still, maybe it was just my mood, or maybe a number of others in the audience felt the same, but until the Rose Adagio I felt everyone was going through the motions. "We gotta sit through this thing? it got really bad reviews, huh?" (thinks the spectator) "Yeah, we know. We're the ones on stage looking ridiculous in these costumes. At least it's the last night." (thinks the dancer) "Daddy, I can't see!" (says the 4-year-old little girl behind me, often). "Ask the usher for a seat cushion. I'm only 5'8" (thinks Klavier). But I'm glad the rest of you liked Paloma, 'cause if you hadn't, I would have thought something was seriously amiss with one of us. I don't always respond as emotionally to the dancing as all you balletomanes, but when she took the roses in the coda and held the balances flawlessly, I was starting to feel goosebumps and finally felt glad I came. The applause, which began well before the final cadence, was explosive. Not only did Paloma dance with seeming effortlessness, but she looked and acted the part of an innocent young girl. But then I couldn't help guffawing at that green plaid kilt with the orange hat and the violet boa that poor Patrick Ogle had to wear around his neck. (And he replaced . . . ) It was an oddly schizophrenic experience, loving Paloma's dancing but having a hard time taking the people around her seriously. Which brings me to Gelsey Kirkland, or at least the portion of Gelsey Kirkland's performance I was able to see. I'm happy to have seen this legend live if only this once, and I remember someone above saying that her performance was not as hammy as Martine von Hamel's. It was quite hammy for me, and I didn't believe this character was evil for a minute. More an old bag lady surrounded by four aliens from outer space. ("Daddy, what are those things?" asks the 4-year-old behind me. Daddy couldn't answer.) Personally I think the hamminess dilutes the sense of evil, and if I were to stage this ballet, I would made Carabosse quite obviously a fairy princess, albeit a fallen one. I would dress her in black, make her very beautiful, but make her cold as ice and not hammy at all. (That's the same way I would want to see Goneril and Regan in King Lear.) Only by avoiding the obvious can one make this character believably malevolent. After intermission, Kristi Boone did what she could, but she can't tear up the stage like Kirkland. Angel Corella was terrific, both on his own and in his final pas de deux with Herrera. In fact my only real disappointment in the dancing came with Carlos Lopez. He was certainly very good. But Herman Cornejo to me is so transcendent a dancer that I keenly felt his absence. And putting the fairy tale characters on stage without letting them have their solos seems simply perverse. Instead of all the cuts, why not start at 7 and do the score complete? If the Met during opera season can do full-length 4-hour Wagner operas uncut, why can't ABT present this considerably shorter ballet complete? If it's an issue of accommodating the children, ABT can borrow a page from the Met's Magic Flute and present a shorter version for kids, including the fairy-tale divertissements that would be the biggest draw for the youngsters. Thinking over all these past posts as I took my seat, I didn't know how I'd react to this ill-starred production. I wasn't as bothered by it as some here, but then again I don't have a lot of productions to compare it to. (I was far more critical with NYCB's Romeo and the Hamburg Death in Venice, because I know the source material so well.) But as a production NYCB has a much better designed SB, with a boat that doesn't look like something out of Harry Potter (doubtless the ABT boat is being held for Matthew Bourne for when he creates the Harry Potter ballets). And NYCB has the fairy tales. But ABT has the dancers.

The ideal way to do that would have been to leave the Red Riding Hood and Puss 'n' Boots divertissements intact.

http://www.amazon.com/Rossini-viaggio-Ricc...i/dp/B000001G6O Scroll down to the comment by Timothy Kearney. (Is this ok to post here?) What has always struck me is that this apotheosis is in a minor key. Has that made a similar impression on anyoneelse, and if so, is it somehow dramatically appropriate?

Yes, just saw him in Dances at a Gathering, where he was quite prominent, and I've caught him in numerous other ballets besides. Of the names mentioned, Craig Hall was just promoted to soloist, Gina Pazcoguin is a head-turner even when seriously miscast (as the R+J Nurse), and Seth Orza and Allen Peiffer both danced the lead roles in Romeo and Juliet. But I agree that there are corps members who seem to have been around for a long time and rarely if ever get opportunities to shine. I look at the roster and see names, read bios of people I'm barely aware of - Sophie Flack, Dara Johnson, Christian Tworzyanski (well, he's easy to spot 'cause he's the big blond guy, but he's had only limited solo opportunities). One wonders what happens to young people like these, whether they are content to avoid the limelight, or they become disillusioned and disappointed as others shoot past them.

That George Bush will see it?

This review is so funny I'll have to go. . . . too bad they closed down the Burger King on Amsterdam and 68th. . . .

These reviews are extremely discouraging, and they are so uniformly focussed that I see no reason to doubt what any of them say. I have a ticket for this Saturday night, with Hallberg, Vishneva, and Cornejo - all of whom I've seen before on happier occasions. It was not a cheap seat, and I will incur the additional expenses of transportation, parking, and dinner - none of which I will mind paying if the experience is artistically worth while, but if not, I'd just as soon try to sell my ticket at the door and recoup whatever expenses I can. Most likely I will see this, but may I ask a blunt question, and then a follow-up: Blunt question: If you had seen this production already, are there sufficient redeeming features that you would recommend it to someone who had not seen it, or would you suggest it best be avoided? Follow-up: What would you suggest as the best available VHS or DVD of SB, possibly one following the Kirov reconstruction as mentioned in Mary Cargill's review? Thanks.

Yes, please. The more apoplectic and illegible, the better.

I won't be seeing this until June 9, and look forward to it with a mixture of dread and anticipation. But dare one say that as New York Sleeping Beauties go, the City Ballet may have the upper hand?

From the company website: The TBA, TBA, and TBA for each Jeu de Cartes are no longer TBA: SAT., June 16, 2007 at 8 pm Jeu de Cartes: HYLTIN, J. ANGLE, MILLEPIED, VEYETTE SUN., June 17. 2007 at 3 pm Jeu de Cartes: HYLTIN, *RAMASAR, *ULBRICHT, *R. FAIRCHILD

Wasn't she something else? What a spitfire! I thought this 4T better than the one I saw only a couple of months ago from the "pros." And for the costumes alone (as well as much more, including excellent orchestral work in a great acoustic) it would be worth catching this Gounod Symphony.

I can only agree with just about all of this. I was considering staying home and then curiosity took over - and so I hopped on www.metopera.org, found a seat I liked, and flew in (hardly anyone was on the Long Island Expressway - I live for days like that). To tell the truth, I didn't know about the alumni reunion per se, I mainly wanted to see the Ashton Dream with a cast I liked (and having seen Sym Con twice at City Center last fall, was not so much looking forward to that). As I wandered around the plaza before curtain I kept noticing people with name tags, and had no idea what that meant. And as the chandeliers rose to the ceiling I saw the spotlight and drawn curtain that traditionally augured cast changes. "Uh-oh," I thought, but instead Cynthia Gregory, Susan Jaffe, and Gage Bush (who didn't speak) appeared and said their piece. Sym Con, which previously had struck me as too schematic in its invariable matching of violin with ballerina 1 and viola with ballerina 2, seemed just right that evening. Abrera and Murphy pair well; they are both around the same height, but hair color and complexion provide contrast. In the first movement I liked best the cadenza; if my memory is right there's a passage where Stella's fingertip touches Gillian's, and Stella completes a circle around her counterpart. The slow movement provides contrast in the form of the single male dancer; and Maxim Beloserkovsky very effectively conveyed the sense of a man trying to choose between two equally attractive women. He had more to do on his own in the finale, too. During intermission, there was a lot of "How are you!!!??" and "Are you still with XX Ballet?" and smooching on both cheeks. None of this was directed at Klavier, who felt a bit left out; but the Ashton Dream more than made up for any failure to recognize this undersigned keyboard instrument. Haglund is quite right that Herman Cornejo nearly stole the show with a performance that was both adeptly characterized and technically astonishing. (Seated next to me were two dance students around age 17 from one of the well-known dance schools; after Cornejo finished one particularly astonishing combination, the boy gasped, "That's impossible!") But equally good were Julie Kent and Marcelo Gomez, not to mention Isaac Stappas as Bottom. His dancing on pointe (that's impossible!) as well as his comic timing were both marvelous. I hear a lot of talk about dancers' hands, feet, backs; Isaac disguised in his donkey's head deserves a special tribute for the hilarious way he moved his mouth. Julie and Marcelo made something wonderful of the final duet, to Mendelssohn's Nocturne (fortunately left alone by John Lanchbery). The passage where both intertwine hands like a ring and lift one leg behind them is very beautiful. And then came the curtain calls and the assembled multitudes on stage, complete with balloons (Klavier did not join in; someone had to stay in the auditorium to applaud). Having seen the Balanchine Dream several times but the Ashton never, comparisons invited themselves. Ashton is very tight, without the sacharine cuteness of all the little kids, the divertissements, and Puck-ascending of the Balanchine; his treatment also I think is much funnier. The most involved, twisted part of the action, to Mendelssohn's scherzo, with the male lovers trying to find each other in the fog and Bottom periodically poking his face out from the bower, is a masterpiece of coming timing. One small element of the action seemed misjudged: for some reason Bottom's head is removed before Titania awakes, whereas in Shakespeare she is allowed to see Bottom "translated" for a moment before he is restored to his normal self. But if I have any major bone to pick with the Ashton version, it is the treatment of some of the music by John Lanchbery. The overture, one of Mendelssohn's perfect creations, is mangled; occasionally there are new (and unneeded) counterpoints and unidiomatic orchestrations; and here and there some of the more threatening music sounds more like ersatz Mahler than anything by Mendlessohn. Balanchine would not have, and did not, treat Mendelssohn's classic score so cavalierly. The vocal performances emanating from the pit were thin and weak; the orchestra under Charles Barkley considerably better.

Everything I have heard or read about this ballet suggests to me it is a turkey best avoided. And after throwing out $80 last summer to see Elliott Goldenthal's phony opera "Grendel," I have no interest in hearing any other of his musical effluvia. If "Othello" as a play, then Shakespeare. If "Othello" transformed into another art form, then Verdi. Btw, darla788, who is your son?