Today I stopped by the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts at Lincoln Center to check out New York Story: Jerome Robbins and His World, the library’s exhibit commemorating the tenth anniversary of Mr. Robbins’ death. A large room on the first floor of the library is divided into sections that each focus on a different aspect of his career: Broadway, Ballet Theatre, New York City Ballet, and Ballets: USA, which was a chamber-sized company that Robbins created in 1958 and which toured extensively. A brief section on his childhood, which explains that he was born in 1918 in Manhattan (as Jerome Wilson Rabinowitz – his parents were Russian) and raised in New Jersey, includes several family photographs and some of him dancing. There is a particularly nice one of him on a sunny beach leaping over his own shadow “a la Peter Pan”. In addition, I learned that Robbins not only danced, but also painted, sketched (some of his sketches are on display), played piano, made collages, took photographs, and enjoyed writing – certainly a multi-talented individual from a young age.
I was amazed by the size and breadth of the collection. Robbins apparently never threw anything away, and donated many photographs to the library near the end of his life. Upon his death, many more photographs were found in his apartment and contributed to the library’s collection. In addition to the plethora of photos – not only of Robbins but also of the dancers with whom he worked throughout his career – the exhibit displays several original costumes from his ballets. Two simultaneous slideshows on the walls show photographs of NYCB dancers – past and present – performing in his works. And six different videos show excerpts from Robbins’ ballets and Broadway shows, as well as clips from interviews and rare footage from studio rehearsals. After seeing Julie Kent and Gonzalo Garcia perform Other Dances a few weeks ago at NYCB, I particularly enjoyed watching Mikhail Baryshnikov and Natalia Makarova in a 1980 excerpt from that ballet. Finally, the exhibit included a clip from NY Export: Opus Jazz, The Film (not yet released), featuring NYCB dancers Rachel Rutherford and Craig Hall in the central pas de deux.
Jerome Robbins working with Natalia Makarova on Other Dances, while Mikhail Baryshnikov looks on (photo by Brownie Harris, 1980)
The exhibit’s videos, photographs, costumes, and text combine to create a diverse, in-depth look at Robbins’ career and the significant contribution he made to American dance. I highly recommend checking out the exhibit before it closes on June 28th. For more information on hours and location, click here.
Isadora’s Hat
June 20, 2008
For some time now I’ve been photographing ceramic art found in subway stations throughout New York City. One of my favorites is the 23rd St. station in Manhattan on the N/W line, where different ceramic hats line the walls. Created by Keith Godard in 2002, “Memories of Twenty-Third Street,” as the display is called, is a bunch of different hats made out of small ceramic tiles, each one representing a different personality, most from the first half of the 20th century. Yesterday I stumbled upon the hat of dancer Isadora Duncan. Isadora is considered by many to be the founder of modern dance and her impact on the dance world, as well as women’s rights, was epic. She believed in a release from the rigidity of ballet and she danced in bare feet, long dresses, and loose hair and she is celebrated for the simplicity and vitality of her work.
Isadora circa 1915, photo by Arnold Genthe
New York City Ballet: Damian Woetzel’s Farewell
June 19, 2008
A curtain call for Damian Woetzel (click to enlarge)
Photo by Evan – Please do not use without permission.
Watching one of my favorite ballet dancers – who I’ve watched for about fifteen years – dance his final performance and take his final bow at the New York State Theater last night was not easy. Writing about it is even more challenging. Damian Woetzel, a member of New York City Ballet since 1985, bid farewell to the company and a sold out theater of fans. The evening was tremendous – emotionally overwhelming and momentous. Being a part of Damian’s final performance was definitely a memorable experience.
Sometimes it is impossible to describe why a particular dancer stands out from the rest. His or her “it” factor cannot always be put into words. This isn’t the case with Damian. His many “it” factors include a winning stage presence, effortless technique (in a recent Playbill article by Astrida Woods he said, “Who wants to go to the ballet and see effort?”), and his ability to embody the American Man, which was particularly noticeable in the program’s opening ballet, Jerome Robbins’ Fancy Free. I wrote about his performance as the “rumba sailor” last January, but watching Damian tonight was even more meaningful because the piece was prefaced by a film clip of him rehearsing the ballet with Robbins. The two men reviewed how Damian should throw his arms overhead at the beginning of his solo, with Robbins talking him through it and occasionally adjusting his arms and back. I can only imagine that soon Damian will coach a rising dancer in this role, as well.
Damian Woetzel in Robbins’ Fancy Free, photo by Paul Kolnik
The Playbill indicated that Balanchine’s “Rubies” from Jewels, second on the program, would feature Teresa Reichlen, Ashley Bouder, and Joaquin De Luz, allowing Damian to have a break after Fancy Free. But the audience was surprised and thrilled to see him suddenly appear in the third part of the ballet along with Yvonne Borree. He looked carefree and delighted as he jogged around the stage to Stravinsky’s Capriccio for Piano and Orchestra. His pas de deux with Yvonne was superb, and her dancing was much stronger and bolder than it has been in the past. Perhaps she felt more secure being partnered by one of the company’s best. The rest of the cast was also excellent. Teresa Reichlen flirted with the audience and truly engaged them in her jazzy solo, while Ashley Bouder and Joaquin De Luz approached their intricate partnering with attack and precision.
Ending a twenty-three year dancing career with Balanchine’s Prodigal Son is a daring task. The principal role is both emotionally and physically draining, not to mention depressing. But in an interview in NYCB’s Spring newsletter, Damian said that the role was “endlessly fulfilling”, and it also happens to be one of his most memorable. Thus, it was a fitting way to close the program. Each movement and gesture was more significant and weighted than usual, and there was a definite sense of finality to his performance. His physicality was astounding, and he beautifully captured the youthfulness of the Prodigal Son. Maria Kowroski was an intriguing Siren, and her pas de deux with Damian was passionate and intense. Watching Damian hobble across the stage at the end of the ballet to Prokofiev’s riveting score, stripped of everything he has, was overwhelmingly painful. He clearly infused the role with every ounce of energy in his body.
An NYCB poster of Damian Woetzel in costume for Prodigal Son, in front of Cathedral of St. John the Divine, photo by Richard Corman
There was endless applause and countless curtain calls at the close of the performance. All of Damian’s partners from the evening’s program presented him with bouquets, along with many other individuals including Christopher Wheeldon, Wendy Whelan, Ethan Stiefel, Susan Stroman, Miranda Weese, Kyra Nichols, Alexandra Ansanelli, and Jenifer Ringer (all of whom have worked with him throughout his career). The entire company eventually joined him on stage to applaud and say farewell. Confetti fell from the ceiling and flowers were thrown from all parts of the audience. Damian graciously acknowledged the orchestra, his fellow dancers, and the admiring spectators. He continually sighed and breathed in this significant moment in his career.
Over the years of watching Damian, I’ve noticed that after bowing in front of the curtain, he does a little shuffle and informal jump as he leaves the stage. It seems to be a signature part of his bow – perhaps a way of thanking the audience and showing how much he’s enjoyed dancing – and is something that I’ve always appreciated in the final moments of a performance. Tonight, he didn’t disappoint. After every single bow, Damian did his little shuffle and jump before disappearing behind the curtain.
For more photos and reviews of the performance, check out Philip’s and Sarah’s blogs. Photos below taken by Evan – please do not use without permission.
Damian Woetzel, smiling among a blur of people, flowers, and confetti
Damian Woetzel’s final bow
NYCB dancers in the final pose from Robbins’ Glass Pieces, photo by Paul Kolnik
Tuesday evening’s program at New York City Ballet took the audience on a musical journey from Bach’s solo piano and solo cello pieces, to an early twentieth century violin concerto by Alban Berg, to Philip Glass’s minimalist music of the 1980s. The performance was as choreographically diverse as it was musically, which speaks to the talent of choreographer Jerome Robbins.
2 & 3 Part Inventions, set to Bach’s Inventions and Sinfonias for piano, was performed by eight advanced students from the School of American Ballet, as it was during its 1994 premiere. The formal yet light-hearted mood of the piece was nicely conveyed by the dancers, and the clear formations and disciplined movement reflected the uncomplicated music. I don’t think this piece would look nearly as good if it were performed by older, more experienced dancers, because the choreography and simple piano music offer a youthful innocence that can best be captured by students.
Nicolas Le Riche in A Suite of Dances, photo by Jacques Moatti
The formality of 2 & 3 Part Inventions gave way to a more casual atmosphere in A Suite of Dances, a solo that Mikhail Baryshnikov premiered with his White Oak Dance Project in 1994 (and which I was fortunate enough to see). The piece has a fun, playful feel as the dancer interacts with the on-stage cellist, reflects on the music, and then seems to improvise a string of movement to complement it. Nicolas Le Riche, appearing as a guest artist from Paris Opera Ballet, started sitting on the floor at the feet of cellist Ann Kim. He rose to standing as she began to play selections from Bach’s Suites for Solo Cello. Le Riche was rather heavy on his feet and needed to be lighter and sprightlier in his jumps. The piece is an opportunity for the male dancer to infuse the work with his own sense of playfulness, and I can recall how successful Baryshnikov was in this respect. Le Riche, however, looked tired and lethargic, and lacked the finesse that is essential for this role.
The evening took a darker turn in In Memory of…, which is one of several Robbins pieces that addresses death and loss. Alban Berg composed a violin concerto in 1935 that was dedicated to his friend’s eighteen-year-old daughter, who had died of infantile paralysis. In three distinct sections, Robbins’ choreography illustrates the young girl when she was strong and healthy; then shows her illness and death; and finally, portrays her journey to heaven. Wendy Whelan, in a pale pink dress, was delicate and vulnerable in the principal role. She danced with youthfulness and joy in the opening duet with Jared Angle, who was an elegant and attentive partner. Whelan wove through a corps of dancers who appeared on stage, suggesting that she was fully immersed in a community. In the second section, Charles Askegard was a menacing, powerful death figure that seemed to envelop and nearly suffocate Whelan. He manipulated her body and pushed and pulled her into different lifts and turns. She grew more and more lifeless as their duet continued, and at one point, curled her body around his thigh and covered her face with her hands, nearly giving up and allowing death to take over. The pace and violence with which death consumed her was alarming, but the final section, in which Whelan and the corps were dressed in white, illustrated her arrival in heaven and Robbins’ acceptance of mortality as a part of life.
NYCB dancers in the third section of Glass Pieces, photo by Paul Kolnik
Glass Pieces is one of my favorite Robbins ballets, which has a lot to do with my appreciation of Glass’s music for this piece: Rubric and Facades from Glassworks, and excerpts from the opera Akhnaten. The pedestrian movement in the first section reflected the repetitive structures and momentum of Rubric. The large corps – with the women dressed in colorful leotards and skirts and the men in satiny tights and shirts – rushed about the stage in a repetitive pattern. There is a distinct urban feel to the piece as the dancers walked quickly, avoiding one another and focusing on their destination. Three couples in neon unitards appeared amidst the chaos, soaring with leaps and jumps and carefully maneuvering their way through the crowds. Rebecca Krohn and Tyler Angle stood out for their precision and clarity. Every so often, Angle made eye contact with his partner and the other dancers (while the others seemed to avoid any eye contact with their peers), adding a refreshingly human dimension to his performance.
In the piece’s second section, a line of women in silhouette traverse along the back of the stage, their simple pattern of movement reflecting the hypnotic, repetitive rhythm of Facades. Maria Kowroski was mesmerizing and other-worldly in her pas de deux with Philip Neal. She floated onto the stage in a lift and seemed to dance a few inches above everyone else. The two dancers disappeared as seamlessly as they had emerged. Percussive rhythms of Akhnaten were the focal point of the third section. My eyes were continually drawn to Adrian Danchig-Waring, the clear leader of the cluster of men who moved as a pack, stomping and making distinct changes in direction. The stage became more crowded and chaotic as the women entered, and the piece ended memorably with the dancers in silhouette, their arms thrown upward and backs arched. As thrilling as this section of Glass Pieces is, it would be even more powerful if it included the female opera singing that one hears on recordings of this music. The high-pitched voice adds an ecstatic energy that I think would only intensify the ballet’s finale.
