New York City Ballet: All Wheeldon
February 11, 2012
New York City Ballet in Christopher Wheeldon's "Polyphonia", photo by Erin Baiano
From 2001 to 2008, Christopher Wheeldon was New York City Ballet’s first-ever resident choreographer, providing him with a home for creating dances (not to mention a company of talented dancers) and offering NYCB new work from the man that many considered a promising heir to Balanchine. Though Wheeldon departed in 2008 to start his own company, Morphoses, he returned to NYCB often. On January 28th and February 4th, the company honored him with an all-Wheeldon program.
This is the first time that NYCB has created such a program, but it has popped up elsewhere in the past. Miller Theatre presented three of his works (all set to music by Gyorgy Ligeti) in 2005. Each ballet on that program was fascinating on its own, but when placed side by side, certain choreographic habits became apparent. NYCB’s program suffered in a similar way: by the third ballet, there was repetition in his choice of movement and shapes. Angular arms that carve through space and women held aloft with spread limbs make frequent appearances in his work. Last week’s program was further proof of this, and it revealed Wheeldon’s limitations – making each piece look less striking on a Wheeldon triple bill.
Les Carillons, a world premiere this season, is chock-full of movement – particularly arm gestures – that seemed detached from the music. The endless footwork and changing formations were too excessive for Georges Bizet’s regal score. Although the choreography tapped into the principal women’s individual strengths (Tiler Peck’s musicality, Sara Mearns’ lyricism and supple back, and Maria Kowroski’s long limbs), the ballet suffered from a “more is better” mentality and appeared thematically disjointed. Wearing brown costumes with a hint of color, the corps of ten swept on and off the stage between solos and duets for the principals in a dizzying rush of movement.
New York City Ballet in Christopher Wheeldon's "Les Carillons", photo by Andrea Mohin
Even though Les Carillons felt chaotic, it looked rather calm compared to DGV: Danse à Grande Vitesse, a 2006 work for The Royal Ballet that was making its NYCB premiere. Set to Michael Nyman’s propulsive but eventually repetitive score, which was created to commemorate the 1993 inauguration of the north European train line known as TGV, twenty-four dancers were on a journey of their own that rushed from one place to the next. Jean-Marc Puissant’s thin sheets of metal peeled upward from the stage, creating a sense of motion. Arms and legs carving through space; bodies suspended in geometric shapes; and countless lifting of women overhead – the dancers’ lightning-quick bodies were part of DGV’s powerful but frustratingly busy engine.
Sandwiched between the two works – a smart choice – was the spare and haunting Polyphonia, to a piano score by Ligeti. With architecturally rich movement set within an environment that shifted from tense to meditative, the ballet looked as inventive as it did when it premiered in 2001. The four couples, in simple purple costumes, are sublime. Sara Mearns was poignant in her slow duet with Craig Hall, and Tiler Peck and Gonzalo Garcia’s waltz was quietly profound. Wendy Whelan, performing in the role she originated, was otherworldly. In her second pas de deux with Jared Angle, the final image of Whelan rotating overhead and crawling underneath one of Angle’s legs to end in a sitting position, was chilling. She looked so at home in the choreography, filling every shape and line with spectacular dimensionality. On a program with two large-scale, fast-moving works, Polyphonia is even more gratifying for its minimalism and severe beauty.
A Memoir by NYCB Dancer Jock Soto
October 2, 2011
I just finished reading Every Step You Take, the new memoir by former New York City Ballet principal dancer Jock Soto, which goes on sale to the public on October 4th. Throughout the 90s, Jock was one of my favorite dancers to watch on stage at NYCB, and his partnership with Heather Watts – and later with Wendy Whelan – was spectacular. So I’ve enjoyed reading the “back story” in Soto’s new memoir, which ties together his childhood growing up on a Navajo reservation in Arizona (he is half Navajo, half Puerto Rican), his early years scraping by in New York City, and his personal and professional relationships that shaped and influenced his career as a dancer.
For dancers and dance fans, the book offers insights into the creative process and struggles he faced as a dancer, including bad reviews from critics, injuries, being a perfectionist, or difficulty in the rehearsal process. For non-dancers, Soto reveals many personal challenges: being the gay son of a macho father, choosing to leave the reservation (and his entire family) to try and make it in New York, and how he grappled with retirement from performing at age 40, in 2005, and thought about life after NYCB. In addition to photos from his professional and personal life, each chapter of the memoir includes a related recipe that marked a pivotal moment in Soto’s story (he is passionate about food, and co-authored a cookbook with NYCB dancer Heather Watts in 1998). The recipes cover a lot of territory and reflect his surroundings, growth, and the people that impacted his life: the first is for “Mama Jo’s pork chops” with poblano peppers (Soto’s mother was a powerful influence in his life, and not just because of her cooking), later is the “accidental adolescent’s grown-up version of Hamburger Helper”, and later, a bagel and caviar sandwich inspired by George Balanchine’s favorite – an English muffin with lots of sweet butter and black caviar.
Jock Soto, photo by Luis Fuentes
Soto’s writing is honest, straightforward, and full of reflection and contemplation. Coming to terms with his upbringing, his escape from his childhood to pursue his career, and his professional life after performing, Soto clearly has embraced his many identities. He writes, “I can now say with complete confidence that I am one very happy, very lucky Navarican-Puertojo-desert-born-New-York-bred-gay-recently-engaged-part-time-cook-fledgling-choreographer-proud-first-time-home-owner-recently-published-author-retired-dancer-ballet-teacher.”
Every Step You Take, by Jock Soto, goes on sale October 4th.
Displaced (A Dancer Portrait Series)
September 23, 2011
David Hallberg, photo © Matthew Murphy
Dance photography frequently shows athleticism, virtuosity, and technical prowess, but rarely do we see images that capture more intimate, emotional moments of dancers in stillness. That’s what my friend and NYC-based photographer Matthew Murphy strives to achieve in “Displaced”, a dancer portrait series featuring both emerging and established dancers.
The project’s Kickstarter campaign, which needs to raise $2,000 by October 17th, includes a video in which Matthew shares more about his inspiration for “Displaced”. Supporting the project will help bring the photo series to a November gallery show at Dance New Amsterdam in downtown Manhattan.
Matthew has already made a significant contribution to dance and theater in NYC — his photos have appeared in The New York Times, New York Magazine, The Village Voice, and many other publications, and he is a former member of American Ballet Theatre. But “Displaced” shows a more introspective side of the dancer, which is why I’m drawn to it. Featuring Wendy Whelan, David Hallberg, Risa Steinberg, Laura Halzack, and Ashley Bouder, among many others, “Displaced” reveals dancers as individuals rather than as performers. Take a moment to visit the project’s Kickstarter page and consider making a contribution.
Wendy Whelan, photo © Matthew Murphy
Jacob’s Pillow Launches Dance Interactive
March 17, 2011
I think I’ve just found my newest form of procrastination.
Jacob’s Pillow, located in Becket, Massachusetts, has extensive on-site archives that allow visitors to view rare footage from dance performances — but you have to travel to Becket to view them. Virtual Pillow, which offers a series of digital dance programming for online audiences (such as PillowTalks), was an excellent step in the right direction to make their programs more widely accessible. On March 28th, the Pillow will launch Jacob’s Pillow Dance Interactive, its most extensive Virtual Pillow program to date. Dance Interactive is a curated online portal of select artists who have performed at Jacob’s Pillow from 1937 through 2010. The collection features performance video and corresponding insight about the artists and works. All videos were filmed at Jacob’s Pillow over the past 70+ years – and these aren’t videos that you can find on YouTube.
Although the general public can access Dance Interactive on March 28th, I was fortunate to get a press preview of the new tool. Searching by genre, era, or artist makes it incredibly user-friendly. Once I let it sink in that I was watching Maria Tallchief perform George Balanchine’s Firebird at the Pillow in 1951, I realized how unique Dance Interactive is – and how fortunate the public will be to have this at their fingertips. It’s also incredibly addictive. To give you an idea, I watched excerpts of the following, one after the other:
- Merce Cunningham in Banjo (1955)
- Pearl Primus in Spirituals (1950)
- Wendy Whelan and Peter Boal in William Forsythe’s Herman Schmerman (2004)
- José Limón in Doris Humphrey’s Lament for Ignacio Sánchez Mejías (1946)
- Members of the Royal Danish Ballet in August Bournonville’s in Konservatoriet (1955)
It’s a treat to marvel at these performances and get some background on the artists’ relationship with the Pillow. If you’re not quite sure what you’re looking for, you can click “Dive In”, which randomly selects an entry from the archives. And if you’re in the mood to test your knowledge, clicking “Guess” will show a video and ask the viewer to choose who the performer is from several options. This leads to information about the performance – who choreographed it, when it was performed at the Pillow, and more.
I’m eager for the public to start using Dance Interactive (watch choreographer Kyle Abraham getting a preview of the tool below), and hopefully there will be a lively online discussion about it. Mark your calendars for the 28th! But for now, I’ll simply say thank you, Jacob’s Pillow, for making your archives accessible to people worldwide in an intelligent, informed way. Not only will students, educators, and dance audiences benefit from this curated resource. Dance Interactive is also a welcomed resource for the field – artists, choreographers, dancers, and historians will find this endlessly rewarding.
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
