I’m really looking forward to attending this event on May 16th, organized by Dance/NYC and Dance/USA.
Town Hall: Dancers’ Bodies. Promoting Wellness.
Calling All Stakeholders in Dance!
Dance/NYC and the Dance/USA Taskforce on Dancer Health invite you to join us in responding to the Taskforce’s recent call to action to achieve the dancer aesthetic in a manner that promotes overall good health and protects the artist and performer. Led by Richard Gibbs, M.D., it provides a forum to discuss case stories from the perspective of the health professional, cultural critic, and professional dancer, including New York City Ballet Principal Dancers Jenifer Ringer and Jared Angle. What words work to promote dancer wellness? What positive practices? What can we as a field do for our dancers?
Speakers: Richard Gibbs, Jared Angle, Jen Edwards, Melissa Gerson, Jenifer Ringer
Monday, May 16, 2011
6:30 PM – 8:00 PM
Abrons Arts Center
Henry Street Settlement
Playhouse Theater
466 Grand Street (corner of Pitt Street)
New York City
RSVP here.
Brooklyn Rail Dance Reviews
March 7, 2011
I reviewed Susan Stroman’s newest work for New York City Ballet in this month’s issue of The Brooklyn Rail. Here’s an excerpt:
“For the Love of Duke was presented on a triple bill of contemporary works (No Balanchine in the lineup! A rare event). Christopher Wheeldon’s arresting Polyphonia is now a decade old, but still looks strikingly fresh. And Alexei Ratmansky’s Concerto DSCH (2008) mixes wit and lyricism, punctuated with meditative moments. Seen alongside these layered, complex gems, Stroman’s premiere felt dreadfully old, and out of its depth.
…Artists have the freedom to edit and re-visit their work over time, and Stroman’s approach of mixing and matching sections of ballets is intriguing. But the results are dull. Each piece has a jazzy 1930s feel to it, and both suggest (irritatingly) that women’s lives are unfulfilled without men—though the smarter gals realize that they’re not always worth the effort.”
Read the whole review here. Also, I encourage you to check out some of the other dance reviews in the Rail, including Siobhan Burke’s excellent piece on the challenges of remaining objective when you know the dancers in the performance; Roslyn Sulcas’ busy “dance feed” (I envy how much dance she sees!); and Michelle Vellucci’s review of Heartbreak and Homies at Joe’s Pub. Lots of good stuff.
Quadruple Bill at New York City Ballet
February 26, 2011

Amar Ramasar, Sterling Hyltin, and Tyler Angle in Benjamin Millepied's "Plainspoken", photo by Paul Kolnik
Last Wednesday evening, in the final week of its winter season, New York City Ballet presented an array of pieces that spanned from 1957 to 2010. Plainspoken, Benjamin Millepied’s most recent ballet for the company (which premiered last year) featured four male-female couples in duets that all centered on a push-pull, yes-no dynamic set to a commissioned piano and string quartet by David Lang. The repertory notes state that, according to Millepied, the ballet “was inspired by each dancer’s personality. After all, they are my friends and colleagues.” Although their uniqueness might be apparent to a good friend, it all blends together into a rather voiceless array of vignettes. Plainspoken has some structurally rich moments, like when Sterling Hyltin is tossed at lightning speed among three men. But the disconnect between movement and music is frustrating. Rather than playing with or echoing the music, it looks like Millepied chose to ignore it, which is unfortunate – the music on its own is intriguing, complex, and full of nuance.
After listening to such complexity, it would seem like a waltz such as that heard in Balanchine’s Valse-Fantaisie would be matched with straightforward movement. But no. In the leading roles, the gorgeously lyrical Tiler Peck played with Glinka’s waltz so as to bring out each subtlety. Her suspended balances practically stretched the music beyond its limits. Joaquin de Luz was a generous partner, but Tiler’s lush movement was the highlight throughout this brief gem of a ballet.
In Square Dance (1957), Balanchine joined American folk dance with classical ballet set to music by Vivaldi and Corelli. He believed that the two types of dance had common roots, and compositionally, this piece does indeed show their similarities through classical movement arranged in spatial patterns that resemble those of square dancing. Megan Fairchild’s sunny performance reflected the mood of this piece. Anthony Huxley debuted in his role with quiet intensity and lovely expression in his introspective solo. His performance was thoughtful and precise – both good qualities for a role that doesn’t require ostentation.

Dancers in "Glass Pieces", photo by Paul Kolnik
No matter how many times I watch Jerome Robbins’ 1983 work Glass Pieces, I always find something new and intriguing. The urban setting is filled with brightly costumed pedestrians crossing through the space on very precise paths. Watching the specificity of a particular dancer’s walk – the way his or her shoulders move or the slight bobbing of their heads – is fascinating, but so is re-focusing your eyes so as to zoom out and watch the entire scene as an organized yet chaotic engine. The rhythmic force of Philip Glass’s score propels these bodies forward through the streetscape on what could very well be their rush hour commute.
In the second, meditative section, Wendy Whelan and Craig Hall pierce the space with otherworldly poise while a row of women in silhouette sway back and forth in a repetition of minimalist movement. There is a striking contrast between sharp, sudden gestures and more delicate, lush partnering between the pair, and they always keep audiences guessing what will come next. The forceful percussion that follows this section is accompanied by a corps of men who travel as a pack. They stomp and slap their hands into the floor before the stage is flooded by a corps of women. As the music increasingly gains momentum and feels on the verge of spinning out of control, the dancers charge forward in a flurry of movement before abruptly coming to a halt. The final image of the dancers in silhouette, fingers spread and arms lifted overhead, is unforgettable.

"Glass Pieces", photo by Paul Kolnik







