New York City Ballet in Jerome Robbins’ “N.Y. Export: Opus Jazz”, photo by Paul Kolnik

The past year has been a festival-heavy one for New York City Ballet, and while the fall and winter seasons showcased works with scores by Stravinsky and Tchaikovsky, the first three weeks of New York City Ballet’s spring season celebrated American music.  This isn’t the first time the company has devoted part of a season to American composers; it’s actually the 25^th anniversary of the original American Music Festival, which featured a staggering 20 new ballets.  Although the current festival didn’t feature nearly as many new works, it covered a lot of ground and showed how infectious, energetic, and appealing American music can be. 

The first program I saw included Western Symphony, a 1954 Balanchine piece that pays tribute to American folk dancing with arrangements by Hershy Kay. The genius of Western Symphony lays in its ability to use classical vocabulary while respecting the formations and patterns common in folk dance. There’s some attitude and romance thrown in, for good measure, and although it may seem a bit hokey, it’s great fun. Balanchine loved the West, and this ballet was made with sincerity.

Teresa Reichlen in George Balanchine’s “Western Symphony”, photo by Paul Kolnik

Aside from Rebecca Krohn, who looked stiff and pained throughout the first section, the rest of the dancers were joyful and infused their performances with a touch of sass. Megan Fairchild was sweet but a bit mysterious in the “Adagio” with Jared Angle, and Teresa Reichlen and Andrew Veyette were both daringly cheeky in the “Rondo”. How could Reichlen not have fun in that fantastic hat?

The other two works on the program were by Jerome Robbins, who frequently used music by American composers, partially due to his Broadway roots. Glass Pieces is a 1983 work featuring the minimalist but thrilling sounds of Philip Glass. The ballet seems to be a reflection on the pace and energy of urban life. In the opening section, the stage is flooded with brightly colored pedestrians, briskly walking in different directions on their morning commute. Three couples – in green, yellow, and red unitards – slowly jump through the crowd, landing with a definitiveness that offers a moment of tranquility and order amidst the chaos of the crowd and repetitive rhythms.

New York City Ballet in Jerome Robbins’ “Glass Pieces”, photo by Paul Kolnik

In “Facades”, the slower, calmer second section, a line of women – seen in silhouette – bobs up and down rhythmically and repetitively across the back of the stage while two otherworldly creatures – Wendy Whelan and Adrian Danchig-Waring, beautifully paired – float across the stage. Moving to the eerie, delicate melody, their simultaneous breathing was palpable in every lunge, lift, and angular shape. The third section, “Akhnaten”, is a march.  A troop of men stomps and jumps to percussion, followed by a line of women jumping and spinning to flutes. The two groups join together into an ecstatic rush of sound and movement zigzagging in every direction at high speed, until it abruptly halts. This piece is gripping and never quite the same. There’s always something new to find in Robbins’ choreography and Glass’s music.

New York City Ballet in Jerome Robbins’ “N.Y. Export: Opus Jazz”, photo by Paul Kolnik

In N.Y. Export: Opus Jazz, Robbins chose music by Robert Prince and a theme of teenage angst and vigor.  If you strip away the chunky men’s sweaters, ankle-high socks, and colorful sneakers, it’s easy to see how relevant and accessible the movement still feels – fifty-five years after its premiere (In fact, a very enjoyable movie version of the ballet was made in 2010, set in present day).  Opus Jazz is timeless.

In the opening scene, the dancers quickly drop to the ground and let a hand hover just inches above it, as if trying to contain their own anguish.  In one moment they’re cool and calm, snapping to the jazzy beat while they take turns playfully showing off for the others.  Taylor Stanley, a recently promoted soloist, is a standout, swiftly shifting from a feeling of frustration to glee.  In the “Passage for Two”, Ashley Laracey and Chase Finlay are sensual and tense throughout their brief encounter.  But the star of Opus Jazz is Georgina Pazcoguin, who has a real flair for the explosive, jazzy style of this piece.  Her fearless movement quality captures the mood and tone of the music; she’s calm and controlled, then fiery and unstoppable. The energy on stage was relentless, untethered, and all-American.

Gallim Dance in Andrea Miller’s “Blush”, photo by Franziska Strauss

Four years ago, Gallim Dance made waves in New York when it performed two pieces by Artistic Director Andrea Miller at Joyce SoHo. One was Blush, an evening-length work that explores the moment of blushing through powerful, emotional rawness and intimacy. Blush has toured worldwide, but sadly hasn’t been seen in New York since 2009. From May 21^st through 26^th, New Yorkers will have a chance to see it at BAM.

Four years after reviewing the piece, there are still many images and moments from Blush that have stayed with me. The work is chilling and sometimes frightening as the dancers shake and convulse and charge and pour every ounce of their beings into it. But they also invite you into their world, creating a very personal, intimate experience. With music by Manyfingers, Kap Bambino, Chopin, Arvo Part, and others, the emotional climate drastically changes.  It’s a thrilling, intense journey – one you’ll be glad you experienced. Below are some excerpts from the piece. You can buy tickets here.

Janine Antoni in a living set for Stephen Petronio’s “Like Lazarus Did”, photo by Paul Ramirez Jonas

Stephen Petronio’s inspiration for his company’s latest work, Like Lazarus Did, performed last week at the Joyce Theater, was a book of American slave songs sent to him by composer Son Lux.  Lazarus’ resurrection became a point of departure for the piece, whose title is a line taken from one of the songs.

As is expected with Petronio’s work, there is constant motion – limbs whipping through space at myriad angles, bodies collapsing to the floor and being lifted overhead, torsos pushing and pulling in every direction.  Yet, most compelling of all was not the movement in Like Lazarus Did, but the stillness. 

Upon entering the theater, Petronio is seen laying on his back on stage, eyes closed, wearing a suit. The curtain is raised only inches above him.  Hanging high above the audience is a living set, where artist Janine Antoni lays in a helicopter stretcher.  Above her body is a frightening array of plastic limbs and bones.  Antoni remains there, in stillness, for the duration of the hour-long performance, while Petronio soon rises from his meditation and only returns momentarily later in the piece.

Stephen Petronio Company in “Like Lazarus Did”. Photo Credit: Julieta Cervantes

Accompanied by Son Lux’s score and the Young People’s Chorus of New York City standing in the aisles and balcony, the ten dancers are deftly skilled performers that are hardly ever still.  The formations, patterns, and complexities of the choreography are exceptional, but the dancers never reached the ecstatic, transcendent feeling that was expected and hoped for.  In fact, some of the movement felt far too literal.  There was also some manhandling; the women never really shine, but rather are always partnered with or manipulated by men.

The piece closes with what looks like a ritual rebirth – a man in briefs rolls on the floor, his torso convulsing and limbs curving and extending in awkward ways.  He finally rises to his feet, balancing shakily.  When the curtain drops, the viewer is left with Antoni – still suspended above us, meditating – and a small card given to each audience member at the beginning of the performance. On one side is a photo of part of Antoni’s body laying the stretch, her hand gripping the cord of a light.  On the other it says, “Should I look among the living, should I look among the dead, if I’m searching for you?” Petronio’s quest isn’t over.

Ensemble in “Pippin” on Broadway, photo by Joan Marcus

On April 24^th, one night before its official opening, Pippin dazzled, delighted, and blew me away. Sitting in the balcony of The Music Box Theatre, I was mesmerized by the dynamite singing, phenomenal circus creations and choreography, and the magic of this production, which hasn’t been mounted on Broadway since its debut in 1972. It’s impossible to take everything in – the stage is frequently busy, but not chaotic – but my eyes were glued to the stage from start to finish.

Patina Miller, in the role of the Leading Player (originally performed by Ben Vereen), was a powerhouse. With her first words – “join us!” – in the inviting opening number “Magic to Do”, the viewer is drawn into the circus tent and introduced to the other players. What ensues is a funny, charming coming-of-age story with very memorable songs and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz – they’ve been stuck in my head for nearly a week now. As Pippin, Matthew James Thomas was delightfully awkward and sincere, convincingly battling emotional highs and lows as he embarks on a quest for meaning and purpose in his life. Pippin’s father and stepmother, respectively played by real husband-and-wife Terrence Mann and Charlotte d’Amboise, brought humor and command to the stage. And Andrea Martin in the role of Berthe, Pippin’s grandmother, offered a brilliant show-stopping performance. If I say more, it will spoil the fun of her big number.

Andrea Martin and Matthew James Thomas in “Pippin”, photo by Joan Marcus

Director Diane Paulus’s vision wouldn’t be possible without the phenomenal Players, who include contortionists, singers, dancers, and circus artists. Whether swinging from a trapeze, walking down a staircase on their hands, or getting thrown across the length of the stage, they were an essential component of the story telling and humor.

Chet Walker’s choreography is in the style of Pippin‘s original choreography by Bob Fosse. Splayed fingers, shoulder lifts, and leg kicks abound. Patina Miller, in her black top hat, tight pants, and knee-high boots, was given the most opportunities to showcase Walker’s Fosse-like moves. And she did so with pizzazz and intensity. Her performance has earned her a well-deserved Tony nomination for Leading Actress in a Musical.

I applaud the creative team for infusing this revival with so much energy, innovation, and magic – not to mention a phenomenal cast. I’m eager to experience the magic of this colorful, lively production again.

Learn more and buy tickets to Pippin here.

Matthew James Thomas (center) and The Players in “Pippin”, photos by Joan Marcus

Maria Tallchief, a 20th century ballet legend and the first American prima ballerina, has died. George Balanchine, who was her husband for six years, created many roles for her including leads in Firebird and Allegro Brillante.

Tallchief was my first ballet role model as a little girl. I feel very lucky to have met and studied with her as a teenager at The Jillana School, a summer ballet program founded and directed by former New York City Ballet principal dancer Jillana. Tallchief’s classes were rigorous, to say the least. I admired her passion and dedication to teaching perfect alignment, turn out, and expression, along with her commitment to revealing “the soul of the dancer”, as she always said. Tallchief was an extraordinary dancer and person. She will be missed.