Balanchine: The City Center Years
New York City Center Raises Funds For Its Recent Face Lift
Matinee, Sunday, November 4, 2018
While watching any other ballet company than the New York City Ballet perform works by Balanchine, it's probably not a good idea to get too hung up on detecting the clear imprint of "Balanchine style" nor searching for obvious similarities to the NYCB's version of the same piece, whether or not you're comparing it to a work recently performed by that company or some fossil of theirs preserved on video tape that was digitally remastered decades ago. The temptations of such a preoccupation are obvious in a retrospective such as Balanchine: The City Center Years, but are to be avoided. Nevertheless, when a fine company such as The Joffrey Ballet does an excellent job of capturing the Balanchine style in their execution of The Four Temperaments, as is did today in the final performance of this festival, it's worth mentioning.
 |
| Yoshihisa Arai in The Joffrey Ballet's production of "The Four Temperaments" |
Several ballerinas were not quite secure in their footing during their solo parts, but that didn't detract from the overall affect of the performance, with its use of myriad dancers in a calm flurry of motion in four movements. The type of dance originated in this piece struck the earliest audiences of the NYCB as a form of ballet similar to modern dance. They were wrong, of course. It was simply a further exploration of what ballet dancers could do in space and time by Balanchine. In TJB's performance today, things such as the flick of the wrists in the port de bras, the quizzical tilt of the head, the angular thrust of hips and the precise placement of feet were consistently cast in the Balanchine mold. Although there was less distinction between the personalities of each of the 4 temperaments--Melancholic, Sanguinic, Phlegmatic and Choleric--than many people might have liked to have seen, these references to classical elements of Air, Earth, Fire and Water were intended by Balanchine as a starting point, not an end, in and of themselves. Becoming mired in their meanings can lead an audience down the wrong path. Several of these terms have fallen into disuse in the contemporary lexicon; their meaning has morphed dramatically over time. For example, we now associate the word "melancholic" with a person who is sad, depressed or suicidal when the classical meaning suggests someone who is "analytical, wise and quiet." And sanguine means "optimistic, active and social"; phlegmatic means "relaxed and peaceful"; and choleric means "short-tempered, fast or irritable." Matching each term to the specific interpretation of the personality of each dance by its lead dancers is probably a misuse of our energies. TJB’s attitude was perfectly apropos regarding its presentation; it captured this ballet's unique flavor with a sense of unity and wholeness, as though it had been performing it for many years. Yoshihisa Arai, the male dancer who led the Melancholic Variation, made an outstanding contribution to the piece and indeed the entire afternoon. He is an incredibly expressive, facile young dancer who he has a great future ahead of him. The curators of the festival--whoever they are (the program notes are deliberately vague) were wise to invite TJB all the way from their base in Chicago to participate in the festival.
 |
| Hugo Marchand and Sae-Eun Park of the Paris Opera Ballet in Divertissement Pas de Deux from A Midsummer Night's Dream Photo Courtesy of Kent G. Becker |
Hugo Marchand, of the Paris Opera Ballet, perfectly captured the essence of chivalry buried in the text of Divertissement Pas de Deux from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Sae-Eun Park offered an utterly feminine counterpart to Marchand's brand of partnering, and while the intimacy of their pas de deux sometimes bordered on something precious, their choices were exquisitely executed and had an uncanny sense of relaxation. It gave me pause; I have never seen this pas de deux carried out with the same kind of serene tenderness. It came as a complete surprise.
Although Balanchine's Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux is meant to be a joyful, athletic romp between two high spirited young lovers, Viktoria Terkshina and Kimin Kim of the Mariinsky Ballet, masterful interpreters of the classics, were cast in this virgorous and physical lost excerpt from Swan Lake that remained unused for years. When Balanchine got word of its rediscovery, he scooped it up and created the ballet at once. When playing teenage Kitri in a story ballet such as Don Quixote, Tereshkina is capable of seeming fifteen years old because she is playing a character. She hurls herself into that youthful part with technical flawlessness and a total lack of inhibition, using a brassy smile and outrageous playfulness that demands Kim, her frequent partner, pull out all the stops to keep up with her energy level through endless pranks and crazy-eyed interactions. Together, they are capable of anything. Yet when challenged to play herself in an abstract work by Balanchine, the prima ballerina assoluta was faced with a horse of a different color. She is quite a few years older than Kim, who just turned 26, and though in the womanly prime of her physical strength, would have looked foolish had she attempted to bound about the stage like a 17 year old colt. She had to play herself in an abstract work, and though it was joyful and boundless, it was essential that she maintain her dignity and stature as a great ballerina and a woman of the world. In order to approach the piece like dancers of the NYCB, Kim would have needed to be matched with a vivacious 17 year old who was willing to inject the vigorous assault of movement on stage into the ballet that it demands. under 5' 5" to go at this with the vigor and freedom it demands. In order to balance the extreme enthusiasm of the piece with the age difference between herself and her partner, Tereshkina wisely approached it as a Romantic interlude between two extremely well-acquainted lovers. As it was a clear choice, it was a different but totally apropos way of flinging herself into a ballet intended for a couple of teenagers in its spirit and athleticism. She headed into their encounter as a playful but sincere flirtation between a warm-hearted, sophisticated, almost aristocratic woman and an eager, passionate young man. Perhaps one should think in terms of the happy part of Colette's great work "Cheri" and not its sequel, "The Last of Cheri."
Tereshkina's technical acuity enabled her to approach extremely demanding passages with amazing simplification and ease. Sometimes she seemed to "mark" steps (abbreviated dancing sometimes used in rehearsal to spare the energies and physiques of the dancers), for example, carrying the arched passés that are meant to require the foot to go all the way to the top of the knee only to the middle of her calf. At other times she simply truncated whole passages to streamline the piece, underscoring the ease of execution. This currently of intense sexual attraction between a worldly woman at ease with herself and a much younger man was established repeatedly throughout the piece.
The challenge to the male dancer in Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux is to keep up with the time, which moves along at an ultra-rapid clip. He must execute bravura leaps and challenging lifts without falling behind. Quite often male dancers who attempt this role find themselves fighting a losing battle, but Kim was on top of everything from go--delivering his lofty jetés with ease and simultaneously deferring to his partner. Karinska's classical costume was not flattering to him, underscoring his slender frame and youthfulness. He would have been wise to have worn his own costume, something that would emphasize the breadth of his shoulders and sculpted, muscly back. Mid-way through, he surprised the audience by unleashing a series of a pirouettes done á la seconde, pumping the floor at two turns per beat and creating a literal whirlwind that blew the lid off the house. The piece moves so swiftly that the stunt was over in seconds; as Kim finished up in a series of pirouettes and slipped playfully off stage I wondered whether he might have preferred a more vigorous attack to the entire piece as a whole. By saving up this stunt and slipping it in part-way, however, he made it all that much more exciting. At the very end, the pair abandoned themselves to a courageous execution of the well known fish dives, Tereshkina throwing herself into Kim's arms with great abandon each time and allowing him to raise her up on pointe in arabesque smack on the beat. He carried her aloft into the wings, her abdomen catapulting toward the sky, her legs trailing behind her, holding her fast, as though relishing every long, luxurious inch of her. Their performance was a subtly nuanced and unusual approach to what is usually a straightforward romp carried out with extreme adrenaline, but reminded me once more that this ballerina is all woman and this danseur is all man. With relatively few performances in the west under his belt, Kim already has a legion of female fans. In the course of the evening, it was undeniable that he and his partner received the largest response from the audience, which seemed a just reward for being asked to perform a piece in which they were not suitably cast as a team.
Symphonie Concertante was beautifully performed by American Ballet Theater. It was intimate, vital, elegant, exquisite—and bold. What a treat! In over 5 decades of attending the NYCB, this was the first time that I had ever seen this creation. First created by Balanchine for the School of American Ballet in the 1950’s, possibly for their annual Commencement Exercises or some function that provided an opportunity for students to try their wings. It somehow fell into obscurity, was rediscovered by the Balanchine Trust in the 1980’s and brushed off and put back together by ABT. (No other company performs it today.) On a large scale, it can be perceived as an introduction to the basics of partnering given to a group of fledgling female dancers, offering them a rich and varied taste of the transition from dancing alone as a girl to dancing with a male partner, from maidenhood to womanhood as it were, and expanding the territory from the dance studio to the professional stage. Ormsby Wilkins, my personal favorite among maestros with the ABT, conducted Mozart's score, which calls for two soloists on strings, parts superbly fulfilled by violinist Giora Schmidt and violist Shmuel Katz. Female dancers swathed in creamy pink or pale blue tutus decked the diminutive stage of NYCC in one lovely formation after another. They looked good enough to eat, creating an impression of a confectionery delight that was far more appealing than anything Alexei Ratmansky came up with in his recent revival, Whipped Cream. The costumes by Theoni V. Aldredge were so appealing that afterward I found myself craving vanilla cake with creamy white frosting. We saw strong performances from Christine Shevchenko, Devon Teuscher and Thomas Forster, who worked closely together in perfect harmony. The only man in the entire piece, Forster appears half-way through among so many fillies in lacy tutus. He is a tall, dignified figure and was dressed all in white, looking both powerful and elegant among the huge number of initiates, “student” ballerinas who, prior to his entrance, attempt to partner each other by joining their hands raised in the air. He introduces conventions of partnering between men and women by offering a firm, gentle hand to a few of the acolytes; at times the group surrounds him, ferrying him off stage or on again in circular formations. It is neither here nor there, but when Shevchenko first came on stage, for a second she so resembled Suzanne Farrell that I nearly fell out of my seat. She has large eyes and a similarly heart shaped face but, in reality, her features are more Florentine and distinct than those of Farrell, whose doe eyes and rounded cheeks blurred the overall impression of her visage. Shevchenko has the ideal face for the stage—one that is strikingly beautiful but visible from a mile away. Throughout her performance, her careful placement of her neck, head and shoulders enhanced her beautiful impression of a Balanchine dancer. All of the delicacy and femininity required of the female ABT dancers was so spot on Balanchine, making this a ballet something that every audience member could simply relax and enjoy.
Tereshkina's technical acuity enabled her to approach extremely demanding passages with amazing simplification and ease. Sometimes she seemed to "mark" steps (abbreviated dancing sometimes used in rehearsal to spare the energies and physiques of the dancers), for example, carrying the arched passés that are meant to require the foot to go all the way to the top of the knee only to the middle of her calf. At other times she simply truncated whole passages to streamline the piece, underscoring the ease of execution. This currently of intense sexual attraction between a worldly woman at ease with herself and a much younger man was established repeatedly throughout the piece.
The challenge to the male dancer in Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux is to keep up with the time, which moves along at an ultra-rapid clip. He must execute bravura leaps and challenging lifts without falling behind. Quite often male dancers who attempt this role find themselves fighting a losing battle, but Kim was on top of everything from go--delivering his lofty jetés with ease and simultaneously deferring to his partner. Karinska's classical costume was not flattering to him, underscoring his slender frame and youthfulness. He would have been wise to have worn his own costume, something that would emphasize the breadth of his shoulders and sculpted, muscly back. Mid-way through, he surprised the audience by unleashing a series of a pirouettes done á la seconde, pumping the floor at two turns per beat and creating a literal whirlwind that blew the lid off the house. The piece moves so swiftly that the stunt was over in seconds; as Kim finished up in a series of pirouettes and slipped playfully off stage I wondered whether he might have preferred a more vigorous attack to the entire piece as a whole. By saving up this stunt and slipping it in part-way, however, he made it all that much more exciting. At the very end, the pair abandoned themselves to a courageous execution of the well known fish dives, Tereshkina throwing herself into Kim's arms with great abandon each time and allowing him to raise her up on pointe in arabesque smack on the beat. He carried her aloft into the wings, her abdomen catapulting toward the sky, her legs trailing behind her, holding her fast, as though relishing every long, luxurious inch of her. Their performance was a subtly nuanced and unusual approach to what is usually a straightforward romp carried out with extreme adrenaline, but reminded me once more that this ballerina is all woman and this danseur is all man. With relatively few performances in the west under his belt, Kim already has a legion of female fans. In the course of the evening, it was undeniable that he and his partner received the largest response from the audience, which seemed a just reward for being asked to perform a piece in which they were not suitably cast as a team.
 |
| Viktoria Tereshkina and Kimin Kim in Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux Photo Courtesy of Kent G. Becker |
Symphonie Concertante was beautifully performed by American Ballet Theater. It was intimate, vital, elegant, exquisite—and bold. What a treat! In over 5 decades of attending the NYCB, this was the first time that I had ever seen this creation. First created by Balanchine for the School of American Ballet in the 1950’s, possibly for their annual Commencement Exercises or some function that provided an opportunity for students to try their wings. It somehow fell into obscurity, was rediscovered by the Balanchine Trust in the 1980’s and brushed off and put back together by ABT. (No other company performs it today.) On a large scale, it can be perceived as an introduction to the basics of partnering given to a group of fledgling female dancers, offering them a rich and varied taste of the transition from dancing alone as a girl to dancing with a male partner, from maidenhood to womanhood as it were, and expanding the territory from the dance studio to the professional stage. Ormsby Wilkins, my personal favorite among maestros with the ABT, conducted Mozart's score, which calls for two soloists on strings, parts superbly fulfilled by violinist Giora Schmidt and violist Shmuel Katz. Female dancers swathed in creamy pink or pale blue tutus decked the diminutive stage of NYCC in one lovely formation after another. They looked good enough to eat, creating an impression of a confectionery delight that was far more appealing than anything Alexei Ratmansky came up with in his recent revival, Whipped Cream. The costumes by Theoni V. Aldredge were so appealing that afterward I found myself craving vanilla cake with creamy white frosting. We saw strong performances from Christine Shevchenko, Devon Teuscher and Thomas Forster, who worked closely together in perfect harmony. The only man in the entire piece, Forster appears half-way through among so many fillies in lacy tutus. He is a tall, dignified figure and was dressed all in white, looking both powerful and elegant among the huge number of initiates, “student” ballerinas who, prior to his entrance, attempt to partner each other by joining their hands raised in the air. He introduces conventions of partnering between men and women by offering a firm, gentle hand to a few of the acolytes; at times the group surrounds him, ferrying him off stage or on again in circular formations. It is neither here nor there, but when Shevchenko first came on stage, for a second she so resembled Suzanne Farrell that I nearly fell out of my seat. She has large eyes and a similarly heart shaped face but, in reality, her features are more Florentine and distinct than those of Farrell, whose doe eyes and rounded cheeks blurred the overall impression of her visage. Shevchenko has the ideal face for the stage—one that is strikingly beautiful but visible from a mile away. Throughout her performance, her careful placement of her neck, head and shoulders enhanced her beautiful impression of a Balanchine dancer. All of the delicacy and femininity required of the female ABT dancers was so spot on Balanchine, making this a ballet something that every audience member could simply relax and enjoy.
 |
| ABT cast following a performance of Symphonie Concertante |
There was no rhyme nor reason as to what exactly was on the menu for this celebration of Balanchine and the NYCB’s years at NYCC. Clearly a fund raiser following the recent renovation of the renowned temple of dance and theater, the five performances were meant to be a week of assorted entertainment offering the opportunity for many dancers from major ballet companies from all over the world to unite under one roof in the name of Balanchine. No matter how carefully one reads the program, the curator’s identity remains unclear. His or her intention was not to create a thorough or exhaustive presentation of every work created by Balanchine and/or performed by the NYCB during the NYCC years (1948-1964). One work, Apollo, hearkened back to his tenure as Ballet Master and Choreographer with Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes in the 1920’s. While individual audience members naturally had their favorite programs, there is no value to be created, collectively, in attempting to decide what program was the best or which dancers did the most outstanding job. At this level, in the words of George Gershwin, "Who Cares?" It was a smorgasbord offering undeniable quality, variety, novelty and a chance to see a few rare works by Balanchine revived in an unusual context. The mere logistics of multiple companies in one theater performing multiple works by Balanchine can be an unnerving thing. In comparison to the 50th Anniversary of Jewels at the David H. Koch Theater, this festival was far less of an ordeal. Audiences clearly love this type of venue. To really enjoy it, it's necessary to stay open-minded and avoid the most obvious trap--demanding that highly skilled ballet dancers who were not trained at the School of American Ballet mimic members of the NYCB. Ultimately, avoid becoming fixated on having one particular wish fulfilled with regard to seeing a particular production of a rare piece from Balanchine’s repertory. (For years I've longed to see a revival Bugaku, a Japanese ceremonial dance in which the couple undresses down to their skivvies in preparation for consummation of their marriage vows, but from what I can tell I'm alone in this desire. I simply have to consider the possibility that this ballet may not be as great a ballet as it is in my memory, which dates back as far as 1967. Still, photographs of Allegra Kent in the costumes in various stages of this piece seem evidence enough to me of the ballet's value. But nobody gives a hoot!) Each program had something for everybody and didn’t take itself too seriously. Its only serious intention was to celebrate and promote Balanchine’s work and that’s what came through. Balanchine: The City Center Years packed the house.
No comments:
Post a Comment