Teresa Reichlen in "Rubies" from George Balanchine's Jewels, photo by Paul Kolnik

Last Wednesday, George Balanchine’s Jewels offered some of the finest dancing that I’ve seen this spring from three of New York City Ballet’s principals.  Sara Mearns (in “Diamonds”), Sterling Hyltin, and Teresa Reichlen (both in “Rubies”) gave memorable performances that revealed all of the nuances, musicality, and flavor that make each section of Jewels so unique.

In a 1970 review of the ballet, Clive Barnes wrote that Jewels is “like breakfast, lunch, and dinner at Tiffany’s”.  True, but it is also much more.  Debuting in 1967, Jewels is considered the first plotless full-length ballet, and according to repertory notes, each section is representative of a country: “Emeralds” is an evocation of France and all its elegance; “Rubies” illustrates the journey to America; and “Diamonds” portrays the royalty of Russia and the Maryinsky Theatre.

Sterling Hyltin and Gonzalo Garcia in "Rubies", photo by Paul Kolnik

With its lush green set designs and mysterious quality, “Emeralds” could have been part of the forest scenes in Sleeping Beauty.  The lead pas de deux was danced cautiously by Rachel Rutherford and Sebastien Marcovici. Marking one of her final performances with the company, Rutherford was lyrical and expressive, evoking the tranquility heard in Faure’s delicate score.  In the solo, Jenifer Ringer swept gracefully across the floor with admirable calmness.  Of the three jewels, “Emeralds” is the simplest and certainly the quietest – at times it even feels a bit sleepy.

After the tranquility of “Emeralds”, “Rubies” comes as a delightful, powerful shock.  Distinctly neoclassical, it evokes hints of Balanchine’s Symphony in Three Movements (which includes a score by Stravinsky, like this piece – set to the lively Capriccio for Piano and Orchestra) and Who Cares?. Teresa Reichlen was bold, seductive, and jazzy as the soloist.  Radiating confidence, she commanded the stage throughout her performance, even when surrounded by four men who held her wrists and ankles while manipulating her into various extensions. Sterling Hyltin and Gonzalo Garcia’s fiery duet pierced the space. They literally threw themselves into the playful yet aggressive choreography.

“Diamonds” appears to be a scene out of Swan Lake, and in fact, the score is Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 3 in D major, Op. 29, composed just before he wrote Swan Lake.  The uniform movement and structure for the corps de ballet reflects that of a regal court scene.  Yet, it was nearly impossible to watch the corps with Sara Mearns in the principal role along with Jonathan Stafford.  Dazzling and majestic in her sparkling costume, Mearns’s lines are so pure and precise while her balances and backbends – there are plenty in “Diamonds” – are gorgeously lush and expansive.  Infusing her performance with otherworldly calm and unpredictable suspense, Mearns also offers solid technique and strength – making her one of the company’s most distinctive dancers.  Her performance here – and in most roles she takes on – was transcendent.

Sara Mearns in"Diamonds", photo by Paul Kolnik

2010 in Dance: A Look Back

December 25, 2010

Faye Driscoll's "There is so much mad in me", photo by Yi-Chun Wu

We’re days away from the end of 2010, so like in past years on this blog, I’m sharing what struck me as most memorable and impressive throughout the year.  Both new and old works performed in a variety of venues and settings made the list.  I hope that the older works mentioned here continue to make an impact and that the newer ones withstand the test of time.

I was blown away by Faye Driscoll’s There is so much mad in me at Dance Theater Workshop last April, and which I ended up revisiting this past September. The cast opened themselves up emotionally and physically to showcase extreme states of consciousness in a seamless series of vignettes.

Last February, Trisha Brown Dance Company performed at one of my favorite museums, the Dia: Beacon.  It was a fitting setting for Brown’s spiraling, sprawling works, in which her dancers tested the limits of gravity and used the museum as their playground.

George Balanchine's "Serenade", photo by Paul Kolnik

A New York City Ballet spring performance of George Balanchine’s Serenade, featuring Jenifer Ringer, Teresa Reichlen, and Sara Mearns, gave me chills.  Unforgettable.

At Dancespace Project, Kyle Abraham’s company performed The Radio Show.  The work explored communication and the role of radio during difficult times, while also featuring Abraham’s lush movement style.

Pina Bausch's "Vollmond", photo by Laurent Philippe

A little over one year after Pina Bausch’s death, her company Tanztheater Wuppertal returned to BAM to perform Vollmond (Full Moon).  The tons of water used for the performance stayed on stage, but even the audience felt drenched in shifting emotions, and often tears of mourning.

LEVYdance showed an interactive, thought-provoking work at Joyce SoHo called Everyone Intimate Alone Visibly.  It was my introduction to the choreographer Benjamin Levy, and I look forward to seeing more from him.

Benjamin Levy and Aline Wachsmuth in "Everyone Intimate Alone Visibly", photo by Andrea Basile

In France, Paris Opera Ballet performed a new version of Jiri Kylian’s Kaguyahime.  Original lighting, sets, choreography, and wonderful percussion music brought this ancient story to life.

I jumped at the chance to see Mikhail Baryshnikov perform at Baryshnikov Arts Center last May.  His poise and presence were mesmerizing.

 

Mikhail Baryshnikov in Benjamin Millepied's "Years Later", photo by Andrea Mohin

NYCB dancers in George Balanchine’s Serenade, photo by Paul Kolnik

There was a collective moan of disappointment from the audience on Friday evening at New York City Ballet when it was announced that Darci Kistler, who is retiring at the end of this season, would not be performing in George Balanchine’s Serenade.  But with the radiant Jenifer Ringer dancing in her place, along with Teresa Reichlen and Sara Mearns in the other principal roles, it was one of the most sublime performances of Serenade that I have seen in a long time.  I had chills down my spine and tears in my eyes.

Tchaikovsky’s luxurious score is moving on its own, but it becomes even more transcendent with the signature opening of the ballet: the corps, scattered across the stage in long blue tulle skirts and serene blue lighting, looks up at their raised right hand that appears to be blocking the sun from their eyes (In fact, the first performance of Serenade, in 1934, was outdoors at Felix Warburg’s estate in White Plains, New York).  The rush of movement that follows is superbly attuned to the delicate score for strings.  In this performance, there was a crisp urgency to the corps’ dancing that felt incredibly fresh, yet they remained ethereal.  As the “fainting girl”, Sara Mearns built on the otherworldly quality of the ballet as she practically floated across the stage in a swirl of movement.  I am increasingly amazed by the power and the intensity that she offers in every role.

NYCB dancers in costume for Serenade, photo by NYCB dancer Gwyneth Muller

Although there is no narrative, Serenade weaves themes of loss and sadness with brighter optimism, from the disoriented fainting girl scene, to the cheerful quintet of women in the “Russian Dance” (led by Reichlen), to the partnering section in which Mearns guided Askegard across the stage while covering his eyes, as if wandering blindly.  Throughout the performance, these two dancers along with Reichlen and Ringer conveyed the emotional richness that Serenade and Tchaikovsky’s score deserve.  The ballet’s closing image is the most achingly beautiful moment in the ballet and has lingered in my memory since Friday.  Ringer arched her back as she was carried aloft – a line of women bourree-ing on each side of her and Gwyneth Muller following behind – and slowly ascended towards a faint blue light.

I will always cherish this memorable performance, but for me, every Serenade is special because I was fortunate enough to learn and perform in the ballet in 2002 while attending The Jillana School, a summer ballet program in New Mexico founded by former NYCB principal Jillana.  As a company member, she danced every role in Serenade, and as she staged the ballet for me and the other students, listening to her stories about rehearsals with Balanchine was a treat.  We performed on an outdoor stage, and just as the piece began, the skies opened up and there was a massive rainstorm. I could barely hear the live accompaniment over the booming thunder, but it was such a thrill – emotionally overwhelming, frighteningly chaotic, and definitely exhilarating.  Serenade had never felt so dramatic.

NYCB in Serenade, photo by Paul Kolnik

New York City Ballet in George Balanchine’s The Four Temperaments, photo by Paul Kolnik

In 1948, New York City Ballet performed George Balanchine’s Concerto Barocco at the company’s first performance.  This past Sunday afternoon, it was a fitting opening to the spring season.  With two other Balanchine classics - The Four Temperaments and Symphony in Three Movements – this superb program served as a reminder of Balanchine’s remarkable legacy, especially before the company looks ahead by presenting seven new ballets by seven distinguished choreographers throughout the eight-week season.

Wendy Whelan in "Concerto Barocco", photo by Paul Kolnik

The three pieces, which debuted between 1941 and 1972, were presented in chronological order and reflected a growing maturity and complexity in Balanchine’s movement over the course of those decades.  Concerto Barocco started as an exercise for students at the School of American Ballet.  The movement is so pure, so academic, so responsive to and reflective of Bach’s Double Violin Concerto in D Minor that it’s easy to see why it started in the studio.  With Wendy Whelan and Ellen Bar in the principal roles, however, it’s just as easy to recognize that this timeless work deserves a place in the company’s repertoire.  They crisply echoed the two violins in the first section – Bar quietly reserved and Whelan more extroverted – and both matched the music’s sheer energy.

By comparison, The Four Temperaments is emotionally richer and its movement more layered than that of Barocco.  The ballet makes incredible use of Paul Hindemith’s wonderfully moody score (according to Peter Martins in this informative conversation, Balanchine paid the composer $500 for the commissioned music and said it was the best money he ever spent).  Four variations illustrate the four medieval humors.  In Sanguinic, Jennie Somogyi and Tyler Angle were both powerhouses, eating up the space with precision and attack.  Sébastien Marcovici was achingly dramatic in Melancholic, while Albert Evans was appropriately detached in Phlegmatic.  But most impressive was Teresa Reichlen’s interpretation of Choleric.  With a newly discovered ferocity, she whipped through the lightning-quick spins that end on the floor, yet always remained in control.  Her stunning extensions and jumps revealed a fire within, while her intense focus never let up.

NYCB in George Balanchine’s Symphony in Three Movements, photo by Paul Kolnik

Of the three works on the program, Symphony in Three Movements has the most flair, from the opening diagonal line of women who rapidly swing one arm and then curl their torsos, to the closing whirlwind of movement for the entire cast.  The ballet looked chaotic at times (perhaps it was under-rehearsed) but the dancers were so in tune with Stravinsky’s dynamic score that it didn’t matter.  Sterling Hyltin and Daniel Ulbricht’s competitive jumps colorfully echoed the changing piano chords in the first movement, while the large cast revealed angular limbs, precise lines, and touches of quirkiness (spidery hands and inward pointing knees!).  In the past, Abi Stafford has seemed too youthful and sweet to match the maturity of the second movement’s pas de deux with Jared Angle, but on Sunday she showed intriguing depth while conveying the playfulness and charm that Balanchine wove into the duet.

At the beginning of a new season, there’s always an abundance of enthusiasm and passion emanating from New York City Ballet’s dancers, but on Sunday afternoon it seemed more pronounced than usual.  Perhaps it’s due to the excitement surrounding the highly anticipated seven new works, or maybe it’s because the dancers have the opportunity to perform some of Balanchine’s greatest ballets.  Or more likely, it’s both.  How lucky they are to be a part of the company’s past while also shaping its present and future.

Dancers in Emery LeCrone’s Five Songs for Piano, photo by Matthew Murphy

In 2007, a group of former professional dancers studying at Columbia University were frustrated by the lack of ballet opportunities on campus.  They took matters into their own hands and founded the Columbia Ballet Collaborative (CBC).  Each semester the student-run, student-directed group offers free weekly classes to the Columbia community and rehearses for an end-of-semester performance, which was initially held in a studio at Barnard College or City Center.  Last year the group made the leap to Columbia’s Miller Theater, where they once again presented their spring performances on Friday and Saturday night.  The company has demonstrated technical and artistic growth each semester, and this weekend’s program – featuring six works by as many choreographers – was the most well-rounded to date.

Victoria North in Five Songs for Piano, photo by Matthew Murphy

The pieces were predominantly somber in mood, with brighter moments emerging here and there, but they were so choreographically diverse that it was hardly a depressing evening of dance.  Five Songs for Piano, a premiere by CBC’s Resident Choreographer Emery LeCrone, was structurally marvelous as the five women – all excellent – moved through gestures and striking images that indicated an internal struggle. In solos or duets set to a melancholic quintet of piano works by Mendelssohn, the dancers broke free from a horizontal line across the back of the stage.  Rapidly switching their legs from turned out to parallel, abruptly slamming their palms and extended arms to the floor, and moving between angular movement and more graceful, balletic lines evoked inner turmoil, while sophisticated costumes and eerie lighting contributed to the fragile ambience.  LeCrone might still be considered an emerging choreographer, but superb work like this suggests that she has already emerged, and she’s here to stay.

Craig Hall in Monique Meunier’s Solid Ground, photo by Matthew Murphy

Monique Meunier’s Solid Ground featured a classical rock score and fast-paced movement for five women and one man, Craig Hall of New York City Ballet.  Although the work included complex lifts and a continuous morphing of formations, it tended to look formulaic or trite.  And unfortunately, it lost momentum as it dragged on for slightly too long.  Excursions, a new piece by Claudia Schreier set to a slow piano score by Samuel Barber that evoked summer haze, consisted of three women in a series of duets with guest artist Don Friedewald.  The dancers seemed slightly strained by the challenging partnering, but their commitment to the ballet was impressive.

The darkest work on the program – in terms of both mood and lighting – was John-Mark Owen’s Ah, Mio Cor, set to Handel’s score. The five dancers were poorly lit and the unflattering costumes included tuxedo pants and frilly green tops with a high neckline.  Owen’s lackluster choreography did not reflect the emotion heard in the music’s opera singing, but Navarasa, created by Lauren Birnbaum, displayed movement that was as varied and nuanced as the global sounds heard in the score by Osso and Sufjan Stevens.  Individual dancers stood out among the group of nine, but this work primarily examined the changing collective emotions of a community.

Dancers in Lauren Birnbaum’s Navarasa, photo by Matthew Murphy

Enjoy Your Rabbit, a lovely duet created by Justin Peck for himself and Teresa Reichlen (both are dancers with New York City Ballet who study at Columbia and Barnard, respectively), also featured music by Osso and Sufjan Stevens.  The first half was full of heartache and longing, with seemingly endless extensions suddenly broken by sharper, edgier movement.  The intricate partnering eased into more lively jumps and brighter individual sections for Reichlen as the piece progressed.  Peck’s choreography had wonderful breadth and musicality, and both dancers exhibited remarkable fluidity.  This brief duet deserves to be expanded upon, perhaps at CBC’s performances next fall.

Teresa Reichlen and Justin Peck in Enjoy Your Rabbit, photos by Matthew Murphy

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 73 other followers