Distinguished guest reviewer from Sydney, AustraliaWrap-up from Mr. S.

Our guest reviewer, Mr. S., has run out of vacation time in New York, but left us with some more impressions from his time here.

Thanks much, Mr. S. Hopefully, some day you will be able to join us for the spring ballet season in New York when it gets pretty crazy trying to whiz back and forth between the Met and the Koch Theater in order to see everything that one wants desperately to see. We could use your help.

Good morning, Haglund.

First things first. Thank you for having posted my earlier comments and for having done it so handsomely. I am grateful, too, for the kind comments made by others about what I wrote.

I hope not to wear out my welcome by sending you these further comments about the five performances that I saw in addition to those earlier reviewed. Because there was so great an overlap in the contents of the performances, it might be more useful to depart from the chronological diary format and to use a more generic and synoptic approach.

BALLETS

After You

After three further performances of this piece I remain unmoved. Some of the particular dancing in all three performances was accomplished and satisfying, but the work itself remains, for me, an extended ballet class in jump-suits.

Monotones I and II

This work was new to me. Because the choreographer was the iconic Sir Frederick Ashton, whose ballets I have watched for years and always with the greatest enjoyment, I was expecting something really great. I have to say that, taken for all in all, I did not think that this was Ashton at his romantic best. It was, of course, interesting to see a choreographer like Sir Frederick, celebrated for producing beautiful classical ballets, producing instead an abstract work. And I daresay that, as I have remarked many times in previous posts, someone with a sure grasp of ballet technique would have seen and admired technical virtuosity of the kind that an amateur like me is not really equipped to assess. It does my aesthetics no credit to say that I kept thinking of the Star Wars films, an impression which was enhanced, as it seemed to me, by the cool, even icy, abstraction of the music of Eric Satie, and by the costumes, which would have been wholly at home in those films.

The Green Table

Two further performances left unchanged my overall opinion expressed in my earlier posting. They did reveal, however, some aspects that I had ignored previously.

First was the music itself to which the ballet is set. The name of the composer F A Cohen, let alone any of his work, was wholly unknown to me. Having listened several times to the score, and with a heightened awareness caused by knowing what to expect as the stage action unfolded, I have to say that I found the music surprisingly accessible.

Second was the quality of the playing of that music. It is played a piano duet. In all of the performances which I attended the players were Messrs LaMarche and Waite. The score spans a very broad range colours and emotions and it can be no easy task for either pianist to have to play it in strict harmony with the other and while seated in the orchestral pit accompanying dancers who are moving on a surface that is significantly higher than his head. Each time I heard again the playing of these two pianists, I was lost in admiration of the skill, virtuosity would not be an inappropriate word, of their musicianship.

Aftereffect

In past days one has so admired Mr Gomes as a dancer that one wishes to be able to say only good things about his emerging new role of choreographer.

One can say, indeed, that his new ballet is very much more effective than his earlier ballet that I saw last year, and I do not intend by any means to damn with faint praise by saying so.

Even so, and if one leaves aside for the moment the performances of individual dancers, the effect overall seems to me to be incoherent. The entry in the Programme carries the caption: "To those who have fallen ... ... ... and those who prevail". I understand the words, in the sense that I can analyse and parse them grammatically, but what on earth are they intended to convey in the particular context of this particular piece of dance theatre? That question, so far from being answered, is made even more difficult by the Programme description of the three principal roles as, "The Man", (a male role), "His Loss", (a female role), and "His Hope", (a second male role).

I imagine that the culture, ( I use the noun loosely), of our times is such that whenever and in whatsoever art form one man finds hope and, therefore, emotional catharsis, in the arms of another man, the default explanation is some degree of homosexuality or perhaps even homoeroticism. I cannot and do not suggest for a moment that Mr Gomes had in mind anything of the kind, but I cannot see any obvious alternative. That is not to say that there is no alternative. It is to say nothing more than that if there be an alternative, I am unable to perceive, after several performance, what it might be.

There are no less than twelve couples cast in supporting roles. The Programme describes them all in the comprehensive words " The Community". This seems to me to make even more obtuse the intended meaning of the ballet. Is "The Community" to be understood as encouraging or as discouraging any, some or all of the three protagonists? The phrasing of the Programme entry suggests that this is intended to be, as least to some extent or other, a story ballet rather than yet another adventure in abstract dance theatre; but, try as I did, the point of it all remained, indeed remains in present memory, obtuse. I am sorry that I cannot be more encouraging of Mr Gomes, but I would be surprised to find that I was the only amateur audience member who was so hoping that he would produce something really good, only to be left wondering what he had actually produced.

There is room, however, for an enthusiastic word about the choice of music, Tchaikovsky's Souvenir de Florence, and for the verve with which it was played.

Company B

After a further three performances I remain as enthusiastic as I was when I wrote my earlier notes. I daresay that to the cognoscenti this piece is unsophisticated, even irrelevant. I don't care. Whenever I see this piece I feel like going to the bar during the intermission and having a glass of champagne to celebrate, rather than to console myself for having had to grapple with yet another obscure piece of abstract technique and simultaneously to steel myself for more of the same. (I should perhaps explain that in fact I did not patronise the bar in quite that way, not at $13 for a glass of something called "Champagne", and $18 for a glass of something called "Premium Champagne").

Piano Concerto No 1

This work, too, was completely new to me. After two performances I found myself rather enjoying it notwithstanding that it consists of sequences of clever, but non-narrative, steps. Once again, the chosen score, Shostakovich's Concerto No 1 for Piano, Trumpet and Strings, made a big difference to the overall effect of the piece itself. The sets and costumes, too, were far more visually attractive than, to point the obvious comparison, the jump suits in After You.

The Brahms-Haydn Variations

I saw the performance which ended the Sunday matinee programme and, therefore, this year's Fall Season. I need not repeat and cannot add usefully to what I wrote in my earlier comments.

DANCERS

Some years ago, and during an intermission at the Metropolitan Opera, I fell into casual conversation with a gentleman seated immediately behind me. He told me that his father and grandfather had occupied the same seat and that he himself had seen many a performance from it. I asked him whether he had ever seen Maria Callas and he said that he had done on many occasions. I then asked, (the question is so trite that I blush to recall it), whether Mme Callas had really been as good as her reputation insists, even years after her death. I remember vividly his answer: " Let me put it like this. When Callas was on the stage you didn't notice anyone else".

At the conclusion of this year's Fall Season, there are two ABT dancers of whom I would say the same: Mr Cornejo is one and Miss Murphy is the other.

In this Season I have watched Mr Cornejo make rivetting even his ballet-class steps in After You; dance the title role in Le Spectre de La Rose with artistry of the finest quality; be a notably sleazy Profiteer in The Green Table; and add a touch of class to The Brahms-Haydn Variations. I remember vividly his Puck; his Peruvian in last year's Gaiete Parisienne; his panache in Seven Sonatas; and the last few moments of The Tempest when, as Caliban, he managed, at least to my eye, to make heartrending what might have been merely histrionic. It seems to me that Mr Cornejo is at the very peak of his art, able to dance with professional skill and polish any role that he has a mind to undertake. I try to see him whenever, and while ever, I can.

I say exactly the same about the professional skill and flair that Miss Murphy brings to her roles. She always looks so good; she always gives her all to whatever part she is dancing at the moment; I have never seen her fall or even wobble uncomfortably, however demanding her steps; she has, at least to my eye, grace and style in spades. In short, the complete professional ballerina.

Then there are Mr Simkin and Miss Copeland. You and I do not see, I think, quite eye to eye about either.

This year it was fascinating to watch Mr Simkin dance in Piano Concerto No 1. He partnered Miss Kochetkova, whom I had never seen. It was the first time I could remember seeing Mr Simkin, who lacks the male ballet dancer's gifts of height and strength of build, matched with a ballerina of whom the very same can be said. The result seemed to me to enhance markedly Mr Simkin's performance. He never gave the slightest indication that he would be making a great effort of will in order to lift this partner. Indeed, there was one sequence in which he was required to project Miss Kotchetkova upwards, her body leaving, ( or so it seemed to me), his hands while she executed splendidly two or three whip-crack revolutions, and he then catching her, as it seemed, effortlessly and moving at once with her into some further difficult steps. These two dancers seem to me to be perfectly matched physically and I hope for the chance to see much more of them together.

As to Miss Copeland, i remain as unconvinced as I was when I wrote last year and for the same reasons. That said, I saw her dance the "Working for the Yankee Dollar" episode in Company B, and thoroughly enjoyed what I saw. I thought that the role fitted her like a glove and that she danced it with some real flair. The jury is, as they do say, still out.

I shall not repeat what I have written on other occasions about Mr Gorak and Mr Whiteside. Of Mr Whiteside I will add only this: I am not quite sure, as earlier noted, quite what he was supposed to be conveying in Aftereffect, but whatever it was, he danced up a storm, much more dramatically effective than anything else that I can recall seeing him dance.

I know that you admire greatly Miss Abrera and so I looked forward keenly to seeing her dance a leading role. Sadly, I saw her only in Monotones, and I did not think that such an idiosyncratic piece could possibly show what she can do in a great classical role. Perhaps next year, Artistic Director?

I need not repeat what I have written on other occasions about Miss Lane. If only the AD would cast her in roles that showed off properly her poise and style and, (dare I say so in this day and age?) , her beautiful and expressive face. Perhaps next year, Artistic Director?

Some Miscellaneous Pleasures:

• #  Mr Forster: sadly underutilized in my eight performances. A pity, because he is always interesting to watch.

• #  Mr Barca: a very spirited Pennsylvania Polka with a lovely and effective Miss Brandt; a very stylish performance opposite Miss Boylston in The Brahms-Haydn Variations; and several small parts in other pieces. He has height and a strong build. When he smiles, he looks as though he is actually enjoying what he is doing. Good stage presence. One to watch.

  # Mr Zang: a new face to me. Very fine dancing in Aftereffect. I would describe, in comparative ABT terms, his height as average and his build as slight, but his movements struck me as being very precise, very graceful and very stylish. Good stage presence. He held his own with striking aplomb even when partnering a stronger and more experienced Mr Whiteside. Another one to watch.

  PROGRAMMING

  Because I can see the ABT only during its Fall Season, programming has a practical importance that it might well not have for someone who can see something in the Spring Season at the Met, as well as something in the Fall. Specifically:

  # Accepting, as I do, that any ballet company either grows or dies and that is therefore necessary to keep refreshing the company repertoire by adding worthwhile new works, the fact remains that when an enthusiastic amateur like me goes to the ballet he wishes and hopes to see a preponderance of great classical ballet: beautiful performances of beautiful choreography set to beautiful music and staged with beautiful sets and costumes. "Beautiful" does not mean in this context chocolate-box pretty. It means pleasing to the eye and ear, pleasing in virtue of grace and elegance, of poise and style, of simple good taste.

  It seems to me to betray the mission of the art of ballet to confine, or pretty much to confine, a Season to modern works, many of which are not really ballet at all but rather modern dance theatre. In Sydney, where I live, we have both the australian Ballet and the Sydney Dance Company. Both are wonderful companies, but they do not simply cover twice over a common body of work.

  The Australian Ballet is a classical company. It includes in its repertoire, of course, short and modern pieces; but they are minor planets revolving around the sun of the core classical canon.I believe that ABT should function in the same way and in both of its Seasons. In the Season just concluded, the great majority of works was modern, abstract, very hard for a non-expert to fathom, and sometimes unrelievedly grim.

  # i understand that the cost of running ABT must be enormous and ever increasing. Even so, could arrangements not be made for Fall Season patrons to see just one of the company's full-length canonical classic ballets? Say, four or five performances would still leave plenty of programming space for a selection, but not a virtual monopoly, of modern pieces in two or perhaps three carefully balanced programmes each of three or four shorter works. Is that asking so very much?

Perhaps next year, Artistic Director?

I conclude by expressing the hope that Haglund's Heel will still be with us at this time next year and that I shall be able to sample, once again, an ABT Fall Season.

 

 

Comments

[Georgiann]

What a fabulous review! Thanks once again for writing, Mr. S. It is my hope that the Artistic Director will take your suggestions.

[SZ]

Thank you, Mr. S, for your very detailed summary of your views and thoughts regarding ABT this Fall. It was a heartfelt, pleasure to read. I so agree with you about Herman Cornejo! He was the brilliant diamond in the crown this season for me. I only wish ABT's Fall season at the Koch Theater was a full month long...

[Haglund]

I am particularly partial to Mr. S's idea about seeing a full length classic during the fall season. We already know that a Giselle production can be fitted to the Koch stage. Paris Opera Ballet sold out most of their eight performances.

There are other classical and neo-classical pieces that ABT could incorporate into their rep that would be appreciated during the fall season: La Sylphide, Etudes, Ballet Imperial, Symphonie Concertante, and the much missed Bruch Violin Concerto.

Why on earth has Clark Tippet's brilliant Bruch Violin Concerto been missing from ABT's rep for so long? The ballet has been staged in other companies. It's beginning to look like maybe this is a case of ABT's artistic director not being able to get along with either the Tippet estate or the person who controls the staging.