Eileen

Colleen, the promenade is the large area up several stairs from the ground floor lobby and then up another half flight. (It's reachable from either side, left or right, of the lobby.) There are two large white sculptures on either end of the promenade, and on performance nights, a gift shop in the middle near the windows. They set up lots of chairs and it's first come, first seated. So line up in the lobby early! I went last year and it was wonderful - the dancers were interviewed and they were so insightful and just lovely as individuals. This year, unfortunately, I am tethered to home waiting for Verizon guys to fix my computer! This process will take 4-6 hours!!! So Colleen, I am counting on you to report on the 1:45 panel discussion since I can't be there, and for other Ballet Talkatives as well. Oh, and you need a ticket, be sure to get one, free at the box office.

Thank you Carbro, a good point. However, I asked my teacher that very question at the beginning of my voice training, at about age 33, if I had potential for a career at this point. She sensitively pointed out that many others were more advanced than me. So I did not think it realistic at 33 to pursue voice as a career. I did, however, join amateur choruses like Oratorio Society, St. Cecelia, and learned much great choral music. When I "finished" my amateur vocal career, I put up a sign at Juilliard to sell my music, and sold my precious scores (most of them) to a new generation of singers from Juilliard, as well as to a collaborational pianist from the music academy in Jerusalem. I felt my scores had gone on to nourish new singers.

I attended the Wednesday night (Jan. 18) performance - Steadfast Tin Soldier, Tombeau, Tschaikovsky Pas de Deux, and Union Jack - and as promised, my report. Contrary to Macaulay, I loved almost every moment. After a long ballet hiatus, I was thrilled with the dancing, the program, the dancers. In Steadfast, I felt Daniel Ulbricht nothing less than perfection in his surprising military "moves", his lunges to kiss his beloved's hand, his airborne leaps. Although you know he is always going to be virtuoso, he manages to surprise you with just how extravagantly virtuoso. Erica Pereira was less impressive. I think she needed more angularity in her arms and as Macaulay noted, more depth to the role. I think he nailed it when he said she should have conveyed her desire for freedom. She is a wonderful dancer, and she partners well with Ulbricht - but there is some essential spark of watchability that I missed. Tombeau - I have never warmed to this ballet. I think it's because its static quality becomes repetitious. Its theme is friendship (if I'm not mistaken), the ensemble as a group of equal colleagues. Put a man and woman on stage, says Balanchine, and you have a story. Put 16 dancers on stage, all in the emotionally tepid realm of brother and sister, and you have no story. Friendship is not balletic material. Tschaikovsky Pas de Deux - With Tiler Peck and Gonzalo Garcia, may I say Tiler was beautiful and fearless. Her leaps into fishdives were thrilling. Her technique flawless, and her femininity brought out by the choreography. (Often she is cast in roles that lack that quality.) I first saw this ballet in 1976 in Baltimore with (gasp!) Peter Martins and Lourdes Lopez. Garcia is an interesting issue. I say issue, because he has all the bravura motions and poses, but his solo leaps lack height, so you are disappointed. You are led to expect from his showmanship that he'll bring down the house - and instead his technique is tepid. He was an excellent partner, though. I'd much rather have seen Veyette or even better, the brilliant de Luz. Union Jack - I have rarely seen this ballet, maybe once or twice in my 30 year ballet-going career. It is fascinating, a totally anamoly in the Balanchine canon. Meaning it's unique, no other Balanchine ballet is anywhere like it. Obviously, his chance to see Scottish regiments marching (like Mendelssohn visiting the Hebrides) inspired him artistically. The combination of massed combinations on the stage was brilliant, fascinating. What intrigued me was the way each group of Scots regiments was led by a principal, yet the principal was almost indistinguishable from the supporting dancers. So I made a game of it - from mid-orchestra, could I recognize who the leader of the regiments was? Which principal stood out? Joaquin de Luz stood out from the moment he took the stage as leader of the Lennox regiment. He did nothing different than anything else - but his personality, his esprit, just the bounce in his march, captured the eye. He has watchability, in spades! I did not recognize Tyler Angle, but figured it was one of the Angle brothers. And it was both! Each led a regiment. I recognized Janie Taylor by her diminutive height (the costuming helped to conceal the dancers' identities!) and she led Dress MacDonald with spirit. MacDonald of Sleat was led by the eternal Wendy Whelan (long may she dance!). Maria Kowrowski as head of RCAF and Wrens was replaced by Tess Reichlen (though there was no announcement or program insert, it was only on the casting list in the lobby). [Thanks for the corrrection - I didn't recognize Maria.] After the military manoeuvers, a quick change to the Costermongers pas de deux, which was charming. Andrew Veyette, in spirit if not in physique, reminds me of Gene Kelly. He has real showmanship. His new wife, Meg Fairchild, was adorable, and succeeded in hitting that sweet spot called "not overdoing it". I loved the moment (too brief) when the two Pearly Princesses are pulled on stage by a donkey in a carriage. They danced their little hearts out. I was happy to see Callie Reiff cast as one of the Pearly Princesses as I have a personal connection twice removed to her. I was surprised to see she is still so small. I hope she is cast as the young Mabel (is that the role?) in Double Feature. Back to the Royal Navy and Wrens. More dancing happiness. The Wrens who come out in leg-bearing shorts, reminded me of when I saw Suzanne Farrell leading the Wrens in the 1980's. Was she ever a knockout. No one had legs like hers. She was just physically blessed, along with a natural musicality and a thrilling technique. Who says no one is irreplaceable? A talent like Suzanne's is irreplaceable. What is also irreplaceable is a seat in center orchestra at curtain time. There were many empty seats in center orchestra around me. I wonder how the new pricing policy will play out. It certainly discourages last minute ticket purchases - at $149? I got my tickets at a reduced price as a subscriber, along with two "free" vouchers for a performance of Midsummer. I benefited from having a clear view, as the seats in front of me were empty. But the less expensive seats on the far sides were full. They even seem to have donated seats on the far side to minority children, a nice gesture.

There's nothing I relish more than an intelligent debate, especially on ethical principles. My argument is that the limited facts we know that are asserted in the legal filings and have been confirmed by the parties are sufficient to cast negative judgment upon both the husband and his paramour. I am not interested in learning more about their affair.

Canbelto, we have certainly moved beyond Puritanical judgment. I totally agree with you. The thing is, I have never abandoned my sense of right and wrong, and I never will. The other woman did something wrong, the husband did something wrong, the wife is devastated but bears it bravely. All this occurred throughout history, but the difference is that there was moral judgment then, and now we have "moved beyond" chastizing young women for "transgressive actions". I do consider breaking up a long term marriage a transgression. They both are cheap. I will never move beyond my belief that marriage is sacred. Canbelto, today the only thing we consider sacred is Serenade. Personal standards have been cheapened and vulgarized, and the people who behave like Monica Lewinsky deserve to be called on it. So yes, we totally are in agreement. But you find "moving beyond" judgment praiseworthy, and I consider it pusillanimous. That means cowardly.

Charles Askegard was equally to blame. Since I am a senior citizen, I am more than qualified to offer career advice to the young dancers reading this board. Since I see down the road a lot farther than 20-somethings, if I did not explain what will happen next I would be derelict as a human being. Wisdom lies in foreseeing the future, and I owe it to young women to explain the natural consequences of transgressive actions. Ask Mia Farrow what she learned from her experiences. She's an expert on consequences. I'm not sure why she deserves sympathy though - It seems that Candace Bushnell is the injured party, though maybe that's my misunderstanding of the situation. I am sure you have closer information on this than I do, who am limited to official sources. I did not want to mention her name because delicacy prevented me from doing so. Delicacy is another term that has not been heard in 50 years. It is indelibly linked to the equally passe term "ladylike". Since I am a lady, I will not name the other woman. Delicacy is also sometimes known as refinement.

I'm going out on a limb here in replying to this post. I am trying to tread carefully, now that the name of the alleged correspondent is part of the public legal record. Candace Bushnell is not going for a no-fault divorce; she is going to try to prove fault, and since she has the best lawyers her fortune can buy, I assume she has proof that will stand up in court. I will not mention the alleged correspondent's name (The term "corrrespondent" has not been heard for at least 50 years; it means the man or woman who is party to the affair. It must be proven of course.) I am writing for the benefit of the many other young women who are watching this from the sidelines and gaining either models or lessons. I have the perspective of years, and from my perspective, the alleged correspondent has killed her career. How? Because before she was a natural to be named soloist; now she's gone from hot tamale to hot potato. Candace Bushnell is more than a pretty face, much more. She is experienced in the world and has allies. She will not stoop to be personally involved herself, but her friends on the board and among the women who are sponsors of NYCB will be deeply offended if the correspondent is offered promotion. The Ballet Master in Chief is in an awkward position if he promotes her, as her reputation will not help her. If the corps de ballet member believes she will go down in history as one of the "grandes horizontales", like Cleopatra or Madame de Pompadour - try Monica Lewinsky. Candace Bushnell will carry on, and when she recovers, what a novel she can write, from an insider's perspective! I look forward to reading it. I've only read one of her books, which I reviewed (spotlight review) on Amazon, One Fifth Avenue, and she impressed me. She has a future; her husband's career is careening into free lance uncertainty. ("But we were in love!" I can hear the dancer's plaint.)

I will relate this question to my own adult voice lessons. As a teenager and young adult, I was busy with school and college and my parents could not pay for lessons, anyway. But once I was on my own and making enough money (in my early 30's!) I took up voice again with a former City Opera star. I stopped for awhile, then enrolled in Juilliard Evening Division, where the teacher, David Dubal, inspired me with the joy of music again. If I could not play piano (the subject of the class) I could perform Schubert, Schumann, and many great composers with my voice. So I returned to my teacher. This was the most beautiful, the most productive period of my voice training. The combination of great music and great literature (by Goethe, Schiller, Heine) grabbed my heart in an overwhelming way. It also complemented the evening music classes at Juilliard. Schumann's year of song - I was singing those songs. Schumann's paean to a woman's life and loves - I sang the song cycle Frauen liebe und leben. I sang Bach cantatas, Mozart arias, Handel, Brahms' haunting songs. I listened to Elly Ameling's recordings as my lodestar. Though I decided at a certain age that I would stop voice lessons, I never for a moment regret my immersion in the music of great composers. Why did I take voice lessons as an adult? To immerse myself in a great literature. To do myself what I knew I could do and do creditably well.

Bart, I too noticed that portion of Macaulay's review and also thought it very insightful. I'm so glad you recalled it to me. "It transforms the leg by charging it with energy in a straight line from hip to toe." Perfectly said. I wish I had another example to offer, but I just wanted to offer my small encomium to your appreciation of the idea of a step transforming a character.

Thank you rg for telling me of the use of Wand of Youth for Houston Ballet's Peter Pan. Perfect for that ballet, at least the initial sectios.

I often hear music on classical music radio in New York (WQXR-FM 105.9) and think, wouldn't that be a wonderful ballet? In a post on the NYCB forum recently, I suggested Mendelssohn's Piano Concerto No. 1 as eminently danceable. Now I heard Wand of Youth by Elgar earlier today. It's based on music he wrote to accompany his childhood theatricals. I thought, why hasn't that been choreographed for the students for Workshop? It could start with the small children, then the music turns lushly romantic and perfect for a pas de deux for the advanced students. The last two movements are rather lugubrious and not as crowd-pleasing as the rest. I'm not sure what I'd do with those movements. Maybe intersperse them with the others so they aren't as concentrated. Maybe eliminate one. The piece seems about 1/2 hour in length. It is choreographable. Are you listening, Christopher Wheeldon? Alexei Ratmansky? Even (!) Peter Martins??? Then there's one of my favorites, but it's only about 15 minutes. It could be paired with one of the shorter ballets like Tarantella. I have always adored Nino Rota's music to Il Gattopardo, The Leopard. Very danceable. If only I'd had ballet training - I am always imagining steps to music I hear. If I am with my grandnephews and grandneices, I start to dance! They must think that very odd indeed. When I swim I imagine myself dancing in the water. Luckily, I don't have a ballet body (I'm quite slim, but not to the degree needed for ballet.), so no my lack of training was not a loss.

Balanchine is indeed a phenomenon. We have so few true geniuses in any field of endeavor in the 20th and 21st centuries, especially not in the arts. Balanchine has a special place in our lives. Your point is well taken.

That is so true, Ray. He put the departures and losses in his own life to artistic purpose. Think of Meditation, another example.

Thank you for this information, Natalia and Ray.

In the final scene of Serenade, which Nancy Goldner (Balanchine Variations) calls the Elegy, one dancer is lifted by three men who carry her, as she stands, moving her to a corner of the stage toward a glow of light, as the other dancers follow, in a mysterious ritual. Where is she going? Why? The subconscious is a mysterious thing in art, and in Balanchine's subconscious may have been the memory of one dancer who had planned to leave Russia with them, but who was drowned the night before under mysterious circumstances. I forgot the details as I don't have Taper's biography on my bookshelf, alas, but maybe someone does. Goldner says Serenade is full of opacity, This is one possible explanation. One dancer went to her death, and the others followed and did her homage.

I remember seeing it in 1998 or 1999. It was rather odd, describing a wedding ritual, with everyone dressed like European peasants. Not really ballet. The title describes it. Les Noces.

News from the box office: The first 8 rows of orchestra are so-called "sweet seats". I lucked out to get a ticket in the ninth row center at $159 including online fees. The online system has now eliminated row P and Q seats as "sweet seats". They are now regularly priced at an "economy" $150 plus fees. That must have been a computer glitch, or some little NYCB marketing elf has been reading this series of posts and making corrections. I do hope Sara Mearns is dancing this afternoon.

Maybe a "desperate tourist" will buy my row J center ticket before the performance so I can pay my dentist.

I see nothing per se wrong with NYCB benefiting from higher demand for better casts. But I noticed that while I could buy a ticket in mid orchestra the other week for $150, suddenly the price for row P and Q - the last rows of central orchestra - were suddenly repriced at $250. It is a computer program, you're right abatt, and there is nothing wrong with it. I have myself repriced tickets I am trying to sell based on how desirable they are and the demand for them. But I simply think calling P and Q seats "premium" or "sweet seats" borders on absurdity. I am not commenting on how expensive the arts are in New York; that was not my point. I think $150 is expensive, and I bought such a ticket plus fees! What I am objecting to is raising the price drastically on plainly inferior seating. The computer has no "seichel" as we say in Yiddish, no common sense!

It is legal to resell tickets in New York State. What was called "scalping" is now called "resale". These are legal dealers. What I'd like to know is, how NYC Ballet will price the P and Q row seats if they don't sell at $250. I have a strong suspicion the prices will go down to $150 again! That's the free market. I will wait and observe.

I know, abatt, I was shocked to see they were selling 4th ring in rows like L and K for $89. I had the same idea you had - it must cost $89 for row A or B. But no, a December 30 performance was offering row M for $89!

I thought it worth informing readers that for the last performance of Nutcracker by NYC Ballet, on December 31 at 2 p.m., tickets in center orchestra were priced (like other performances) at $150 until a day or so ago. Now they have repriced tickets in rows P and Q (center and slightly off center) as "Sweet Seats" for $250! These seats were $150 until the marketing execs realized they could make a quick killing by selling for $250 seats that went for $150 a few days ago and were $150 in other performances. Why were they able to do this? Because Mearns, Peck, and Reichlen are cast for the last performance, that's why. I luckily bought a ticket in Row J center for $159 last week, including online fees before they raised their prices opportunistically. Look, it's a free market, NYCB is free to sell rows P and Q for whatever they can get. But I bet the prices of the artificially inflated seats will go down to $150 when they don't sell for $250. I myself am tempted to sell my row J center ticket because I have other expenses that are pressing. It's on Craigslist, but I am greatly ambivalent about missing Mearns, Peck and Reichlen. Perhaps I should sell it, I've seen Nutcracker countless times. But the raising of prices by $100 for inferior back orchestra seats just for this performance is SO tacky. Now they are selling the farthest back orchestra seats for $150 - those under the overhang. What do readers think of the last minute price increases? Would you be willing to pay $250 for row P or Q?

Every morning I am greeted by my boss who turns to my co-worker and an associate and they discuss the previous night's football game, win, lose, disaster, which players are terrible and should be traded. Where is there someone who appreciates ballet? Who in this office would understand my epiphany from standing on the musical welcome mat at Wolford's tights store? My quest for the music in my mind? Only the readers of Ballet Alert. I'm so glad there is a place where balletophiles can exchange information, give applause, provide insight, write reports of performances. No one in my office is in the least interested in Allegro Brillante and its brilliant music. Thank you Cubanmiamiman, and your colleagues out there! I just saw ViolinConcerto's response, and thank you for your kind words, much appreciated. I can hardly wait til my subscription to NYCB leads me to Allegro Brillante again this winter.

Thank you Mel for this definitive answer!

I stepped onto the welcome mat at the Wolford tights store in the Time Warner Temple to the Gods of Consumption, and two musical notes greeted me. From that moment, I was transported to a famous ballet and its music. Just two notes reminded me of entire measures of this New York City Ballet jewel, with a small "j". I will call those notes (because they work on my pitch pipe) D and A #. If you can play them on the piano, thte D is shorter than the A#, like a brisk lead in. (The A# is lower than the D.) Then leave a pause of two beats after each two notes, like an unheard echo. Play those notes twice. I fell under the spell of the mystery music that those two notes heralded. Too bad I can't write the measures down on a computer. But then the heraldic theme segued in my mind to a quick, allegro tempo, repeated many times, each repetition somehow different though the notes were the same. Perhaps it was the orchestral arrangement that made them sound different. I could picture dancing to this music, but could not remember which ballet this might be. I knew it was NYCB, that was all. A clue would be - the composer, of course. Whose music were these small snippets? I decided Tchaikovsky was most likely.Was it Ballet Imperial? I suggested to a friend (to whom I sang the excerpts), Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2 and he dismissed it immediately. But I could hear pianistic, percussive elements in my mind's ear. I bought a CD of Tchaikovsky's Piano Concertos Nos 1 and 2 led by Gergiev - and CD 2 included as filler the one movement Piano Concerto No. 3. I half listened to the CD. I heard the last track from afar. And I knew! THIS WAS MY MUSIC! I ran to my Choreography By Balanchine volume. Piano Concerto No. 3 of Tchaikovsky was none other than the music of ALLEGRO BRILLANTE, which I must have seen and heard many times at City Ballet. See how a trip to the tights emporium (Wolford) in the Time Warner Consumtarium at Columbus Circle could lead me back to Balanchine and Tchaikovsky. Step on the welcome mat at Wolford's, and you too will hear the first two notes of Allegro Brillante!