The Bala Lama

"It’s not clear what’s going to happen."

 

this, from the scholar, Jennifer Homans, speaking about the future of ballet while plugging her book on Charlie Rose last night.  It was one of those proverbial Duh, thank you, Captain Obvious moments.  She spoke perhaps two minutes about the history of ballet and then it was – you guessed it – Balanchine Balanchine Balanchine Balanchine Balanchine Balanchine Balanchine Balanchine Balanchine Balanchine Balanchine Balanchine Balanchine.

 

Homans reinforces the unfortunate stereotype of the SAB schooled dancer who lives an insular life of unthinking, delusional devotion to Balanchine, the celebrity – not Balanchine the employer since she never worked for him, not Balanchine the teacher since she was never taught by him, not Balanchine as coach, mentor, father, lover  – but Balanchine, the celebrity, the Bala Lama who died but lives to be worshipped with increasing fervor until – until – he reincarnates.   In the meantime, all of life will be colored by the Bala Lama’s sayings and misquotes.

 

Thank goodness for authors like Jann Parry, whose biography of Kenneth MacMillan Haglund is finding quite enjoyable and in which there is no hint of blind devotion by the author.  Hag has only just gotten past page 100 of the more than 700 pages, but Parry has already written masterfully about Frederick Ashton and John Cranko, who with MacMillan represent three 20th century master choreographers recognized everywhere in the world except for those whose minds are stalled in traffic at Balanchine Way.

 

In Balanchine, we had a great talent with us for a long while.  Let’s appreciate him sensibly for the good work he produced and share our enjoyment with others without pressuring them to become converts to a religion or inappropriately crediting him with influence where he had none – like Apollinaire Sherr did yesterday in her review of ABT’s new Nutcracker by Alexei Ratmansky. 

By the way, the NYCB winter season opens Tuesday January 18 with a superb program that includes The Four Temperaments and Duo Concertant.  On the same night, ABT opens its Washington DC run with its own superb program of Balanchine, Tudor and Robbins, including Duo Concertant.  That kind of happy coincidence speaks louder than either Homans or any other devotee with a seat at a critic's desk could.

Comments

[diana]

A few issues (years? time flies!) ago DANCE mag had a feature, "Too Much Balanchine?"

My answer is, there's never too much Balanchine (done well). But there can be too much Balanchine worship.

[Haglund]

Happy New Year, Diana. You're right. Admiration is fine, but nix the worship.

[diana]

Just came from the matinee of the last day of NYCB's Nutz. I've emailed you a fuller account but for the blog, a few observations:

Erica Pereira is a work in progress. She shone in Sugar Plum solo but she and Anthony Huxley were clearly nervous and overwhelmed in grand pas de deux. I question Martins' wisdom in putting such a young ballerina with such a young partner.

Ashley Bouder as Dewdrop: superb throughout, but bourrees were surprisingly clunky. She's too good a dancer to have lousy bourrees. Ashley: study some films of Kyra Nichols, the way Mike Tyson used to study Jack Dempsey.

Gold star to Ashley Laracey, who was a scrumptious Marzipan Shepherdess.

[Haglund]

It's good to hear that Erica's solo went well. We're just going to have to be patient and wait a few years for her to mature. The journey should be rewarding.