Haglund's Heel

NYCB 2/27New swan, new hope

        Not many people know that the Iowa River which runs through the middle of the University of Iowa campus in Iowa City has long been home to a population of trumpeter swans. Most of them nest upstream along the shores near the Coralville Dam just north of the city. But back some 50 years ago, it wasn’t unusual to see them in pairs puttering along close to the campus riverbank when Haglund would walk across the river footbridge to his Iowa Writers’ Workshop sessions. Finding elegant swans in Iowa City where everything was designated as Hawkeye-this or Hawkeye-that somehow always seemed improbable — as improbable as finding an elegant Iowa swan at New York City Ballet where the ecosystem doesn’t include a natural habitat that would suggest one could flourish. 

        Last evening Iowa City native Miriam Miller landed her Odette Swan Queen on the stage in Peter Martins' production for the first time with a massive wingspan, soaring jete, and towering authority. This was a major entrance if ever there was one. Miller, one of the company’s tallest dancers, also had an innate delicacy in her long arms, a gracefulness in her neckline, and a softness to her artistic voice that compelled us to listen to her. We thought for a moment that she might actually wrestle the bow & arrow out of the kneeling Prince Siegfried’s hands as she tried to balance her arabesque against it, but she regained her composure quickly as she did again on a fluke misstep with a pique turn. The jitters evaporated like fog on a lake, and she went on to build an impressively eloquent and articulate story of Odette. The stretch of her arabesque was song-like, and one could visualize the line that ran from the tips of her elegant fingers to the tips of her toes. Her wrists, elbows, and bending torso spoke her sorrow; her legs and feet spoke her determination to find a release from the sorcerer’s spell. Hopefully, there will be opportunities to work on supported pirouettes to make them rotate more freely and also make those brushes from 4th or 5th position into the high ronde de jambe en l’air as stunning as we know they can be. Whether the designated abhorrent tempi will ever permit any Odette to fully point her feet in the rapid entrechat quatre/passe section is doubtful; but maybe it can one day be negotiated for the sake of the art. Not likely, but maybe.

 

        Miller’s Odile was nearly complete from start to finish. This production’s version isn't one of the more challenging versions, but even the basic version done well is highly effective. What we appreciated most was that Miller did not drop Odile’s character when approaching a technical moment where the odds might be less in her favor to pull it off. She maintained Odile’s dark, seemingly impenetrable force throughout and built her performance to a climactic series of centered fouettes that got close enough to the finish line to get the checkered flag. At that point, all the stress was gone and she closed with a 4th act that was filled with soul and easy beauty. 

 

        Chun Wai Chan was everything one wants in a Prince Siegfried. His ballon and batterie were in great form. His partnering was remarkable given that Odette/Odile were a head taller when on pointe. His lifts were spectacular. His character’s searching for Odette, his regret at betraying her, and his determination to save her were all deeply felt by the viewer.

 

        Chan’s Siegfried debut opposite our beloved Yuriko Kayija came in Minneapolis in 2018 with Houston Ballet followed by their local debut that June. Some may recall that Haglund was able to retrofit the Gisellemobile and truck down to Houston at the onset of hurricane season to see that miraculous event. Partnering Miller, though, presented a different set of challenges for Chan. First, there was the issue of her height which he dealt with proficiently and was even able to minimize. He was also now the steadying force for this debuting Odette/Odile with the responsibility to give her everything she needed to succeed. Her performance was in his hands. She couldn’t have been luckier.

 

        One of the unsettled questions that remains with this production after more than 25 years is why Odette turns into a Giselle and returns to the Wilis at the end while Siegfried turns into Albrecht who expresses profound grief at his loss. Von Rotbart's spell was clearly broken with his demise but for some reason, our Odette and Siegfried did not end up together, either dead or alive. Did she refuse to forgive him? What were the choreographer’s intentions? Did it have something to do with a big house fire in Connecticut? We don’t want to speculate, but the finish leaves this ballet unfinished, in our view. Seeing that the choreographer has time on his hands, it would be nice if he would tinker with this Swan Lake ending to make it less ambiguous and also clean up the succotash-inspired costume designs for the rest of the cast.

 

        At this performance, Sebastian Villarini-Velez was wondrous as the Jester. We’ve seen this artist so infrequently due to his injuries that we were happily startled  into remembering just how good a dancer and actor he is. Emily Kikta and Gilbert Bolden III were ravishing in the Hungarian Dance as were Alexa Maxwell and Alec Knight in the Russian Dance.

 

        The H.H. Pump Bump Award, a Jimmy Choo toast to the future, is bestowed upon Miriam Miller for her glorious debut as Odette/Odile.

 

 

 

 

 

NYCB 2/19 Swan Lake -- the funnies version

        Blondie & Dagwood, Marmaduke, Little Orphan Annie, L’il Abner, Barney Google — just a few of the colorful Sunday funnies that came to mind during the opening Swan Lake performance. We don’t often traffic in controversy, but is there any possible quid pro quo that New York balletomanes could offer New York City Ballet to dismiss this production with prejudice? We have to think of something.

        Perfunctory choreography, putridly pigmented costumes, non-set sets, and a general sense to get this performance over as fast as possible — it all stung like a bacteria-filled cat bite on the finger. The only performer who could rise above all of this foolishness was Daniel Ulbricht as the Jester, whose character, ironically, delivered the most intelligent, dance-worthy, fault-free performance. Kudos to the Small Jesters, too, who were obviously thrilled to be on stage with Ulbricht. We’ve never seen the young boys from SAB dance better. 

 

        Prince Siegfried, Tyler Angle, danced Acts 1 & 3 with obvious tongue-in-cheek and a total lack of sincerity. Whenever he approached the Queen mother, goo-goo-goo-ga-ly eyed Marika Anderson, their mocking and satire were thick. There was very little that was special about the steps he danced, and Angle performed them like they were Routine with a capital R. His technique was marginally clear and also made it clear that he should have had the sense to give up this role. But he’s the only male principal with the gut/butt strength to heave Sara Mearns’ Odette/Odile around without risking injury.

 

        And what did we get in the way of Odette? We got Diamonds and Symphony in C and every other adagio where Sara has mastered the downstage walk with eyes on the floor, shoulders raised to her ears and thrown back, head pitched forward, and arms raised too high. Regardless of how wonderful and comfortable it all may feel to do, it did nothing to enhance her Odette and never has. Was there anything artistically distinctive about this Odette? Nothing. It was basic Sara from Instagram. Odile was without an ounce of seduction or evilness or spectacular technique. The best Odette/Odiles spend a lifetime building on their interpretations, not expecting an audience to conflate their personal sorrows on Instagram with mundane stage performances that need to be pumped up. The only thing that matters with Odette in Swan Lake is what goes on the stage. On this night, there wasn’t much swan at all.

 

        The satire continued with the Swan corps that flew on stage like a flock of fussy roadrunners —  beep beep — flailing their legs and arms at high speed. The Four Small Swans arrived excessively jerking their heads around and to the ceiling (Look Ma, just like real birds!). The national dances were transportable to any Nutcracker. 

 

        We’re happy that NYCB marketing could fill the seats. The Russian couple in front of Haglund laughed through the whole cartoonish thing although they seemed impressed with the NYCB Orchestra’s output. The orchestra was good but could not save this night for us.

 

 

 

 

NYCB 2/5 NYCB celebrates Maria Tallchief

        Besides all the blissfully clear dancing in the performances of Scotch Symphony, Sylvia: Pas de Deux, and Firebird, all of which Balanchine created for Maria Tallchief, one other thing was crystal clear: he deeply loved this woman’s artistry. He loved her technical brilliance, her imperial stateliness, and her fire. That love shone in every step of the choreography — most of which was created after the annulment of their marriage in 1952. Annulment rather than divorce. Tallchief wrote that the marriage with Balanchine, who was twice her age, did not enjoy the love and passion that infused their professional relationship. Their marriage occurred at a time when widespread anti-miscegenation sentiments included Indigenous people among those who whites should never marry. Even if there were not laws in a particular state, there was scorn. 

 

        This season New York City Ballet is celebrating the centenary of Tallchief’s birth and her spirited dancing with its own spirited dancing. This particular program, viewed on its first date, included a gloriously danced Scotch Symphony by Indiana Woodward that reflected the spirit of Violette Verdy a bit more than Tallchief. But we could still see where the originator would have illustrated her strength in grace and her understanding of the Romantic style. Woodward’s lush Romanticism left us feeling as though we were watching a dream. None of this would have occurred without Jovani Furlan’s ardent partnering. The soloist in red kilt, Baily Jones, danced efficiently. Among the corps, both Samuel Melnikov and Owen Flacke were standouts for their crisp, elongated lines. Melnikov has undergone a physical transformation much like Russell Janzen did. We no longer wonder whether he has the partnering strength to move into bigger opportunities. Flacke, oh my, barely out of SAB diapers but oh such a watchable, beautifully trained, and compelling dancer already. Stand him up behind Miriam Miller and watch the Disney magic bloom.

 

        In Sylvia: Pas de Deux danced by Megan Fairchild and Joseph Gordon, we had a little trouble connecting the performance to Maria Tallchief who we’re pretty sure didn’t dance it with a cutesy, pixie vibe. Fairchild's technical skills were tops but the dancing was lightweight. The tiny tutu didn’t exactly convey grandeur. It seems ABT has more closely followed Balanchine’s original concept of Sylvia by casting its statuesque ballerinas in the role. Gordon dazzled every moment he was on stage. It is so gratifying to watch him try to squeeze as much as he possibly can out of every moment he is on stage. 

 

        The evening ended with a glorious performance of Firebird. Ashley Hod in the title role embodied the mythical Firebird with glamour and electricity. Obsidian-sharp cool lines, the ability to instantly warm those lines into deep mesmerizing curves, a face that invites attention, beautifully lifted saute de chats, and a well-earned authority all served to make this a commanding performance. Andrew Veyette as Ivan, Miriam Miller as his Bride, and Alec Knight as Kastchei completed the strong cast.

 

        The scenery and costumes by Chagall and Karinska are some of the most overwhelmingly beautiful on NYCB’s stage. Given their continued emotional effect on the modern day audience, it is difficult to imagine how the audience of 1949 might have felt. And what might they have thought about Balanchine’s one-eyed wink by putting a big red feather on the head of his Native American ballerina? Boy, did she ever wear it.

 

        The H.H. Pump Bump Award, flame throwing feathers by Stuart Weitzman, is bestowed upon Ashley Hod for her beautiful performance in Firebird

 

 

 

 

 

 

NYCB 2/6 Paquita 2.0

        New York City Ballet is known for stripping down classics to their essential elements and compressing them for their always-on-the-go audience who only has so much time it can devote to going to the ballet. “Just the steps, ma’am, just the steps” as Sgt. Joe Friday might have said. It was Thursday, February 6th. Me and my partner were working the night watch at New York City Ballet under cover in the shadows of the 2nd ring. We spotted a few misdemeanors in progress but mostly good things were happening in the ‘hood. The usual suspects were staying in line. Nobody was stepping on anyone else's toes.

 

        At times, the new Alexei Ratmansky-driven Paquita had us trying to unravel the scene like Friday and Gannon going over the evidence. Where did this or that part come from? The corps had its assignment down impressively but what were the principals trying to convey? Are these questions even relevant? Turns out not, which became more clear on the second night.

 

        This Paquita, a composite of Balanchine’s Minkus Pas de Trois after Petipa and Alexei Ratmansky’s contemporized reconstruction of Petipa’s Paquita Grand Pas, is actually a throwback to when lines were lines, shape was shape, and the challenges of classical form were revered. Nothing could be better for New York City Ballet these days than this to help it shake off the sloppy sneaker look that has seeped into its daywear.

 

        Thursday evening opened with the Minkus Pas de Trois danced by Erica Pereira, David Gabriel and Emma Von Enck. For the most part, they met the challenges that Balanchine threw at Andre Eglevsky, Rosella Hightower, and Marjorie Tallchief, and made us appreciate what those original artists in 1948 were capable of in terms of technique. Gabriel’s controlled landings, beautiful leg lines in sissone assemble, clear batterie, and sequence of double tours were all accomplished with a burning determination — not just to get through the variation, but to give the absolute most to his audience. The women each excelled in their fleeting foot work and Emma brilliantly finished her phrases with held positions. Nobody likes to do the step-step-grand jete instead of glissade grand jete because it’s so hard to get up in the air without an awkward lurching forward as happened on this night. But Petipa, Vainonen, and others made both men and women do this combination not infrequently. 

 

        The Grand Pas - Ratmansky’s contribution - benefitted from stellar corps work where everyone was hell-bent on holding that arabesque in line for several counts with the arms purposefully placed. Indifference to port de bras isn’t tolerated in Ratmansky’s classically-based works. This might end up being one of his most significant contributions to the NYCB dancers’ growth as he continues as the company's Artist in Residence. While the arm and torso placement was challenging for some of Thursday night’s corps members, others (Meaghan Dutton-O’Hare, Ava Sautter, and Malorie Lundgren) embraced the beauty and demands of precision with enthusiasm that bordered on hunger. They wanted to dance like this.

 

        So did Unity Phelan in her principal variation where she was as Zen as could be and her port de bras looked beautifully intuitive. Every second was grace defined and rich with soft color like a Monet painting. Indiana Woodward flew through her “Amour” allegro like she was riding on a spring breeze. Emily Kikta’s turns were strong and steady as was her rapport with the audience in her variation. Olivia MacKinnon made it through her variation but she definitely had challenges within it.

 

        Perplexing in this opening night cast was the choice of Sara Mearns with Chun Wai Chan for the Pas de Deux. It was difficult to watch Sara because she simply wasn’t prepared to dance this role, didn’t have the required concentration, and may have thought that getting all emotional about her many slip-ups and glaring at her partner would somehow ameliorate them and make her less responsible for them. The relatively simple turns that were supposed to end in point tendu saw half of Sara’s foot on the floor. Arabesques were unsteady, pirouettes were unsteady, staring at the floor didn’t help matters, throwing the arms and shoulders around like she couldn't care less about the requisite style didn’t help. She seemed to be trying to be some kind of character alla zingareze even though Ratmansky had purged this staging of specific characters who are in traditional Paquita stagings. 

 

        Chan managed a more than respectable variation after a sometimes difficult PdD with Sara where neither of them seemed sure where the music was. He treated his variation as he might treat any non-narrative variation — with resolute placement and skillful execution of the grand allegro and his batterie. Loved seeing the eschappes with entrechats six multiple times with each time becoming a bit bolder. Turns a la seconde impressed with their stability without being flashy.

 

        The flash came the next night when Roman Mejia and Tiler Peck led the principals. Pleading guilty here: we loved the flash; we didn’t want to, but we did. We loved the one-upmanship between them. We loved Tiler's double saute de basque and Roman’s triple thingamabob in the air. We could have died happily while watching Tiler lovingly open and close her arm while moving upstage on the diagonal with piques. It was so unexpectedly beautiful and so much more than the perfunctory waving of the arm in and out that we got the night before. We simply loved every blessed moment that Tiler was on stage in this production and are grateful that she embraced the stylistic challenges that Ratmansky threw her way. We’ve also got to mention Emma Von Enck’s “Amour” variation in which her feet and legs bolted across the stage like lightning, only pausing to strike an unwavering pose on pointe before speeding off again. One never sees this dancer accelerate or slow down. She starts at full speed and stops on a dime without decelerating. 

 

        A word or two about other things: The tutus designed by Jerome Kaplan were stunning. The lush pink and red costumes for the Minkus PdT weren’t helped with black sheer tights, especially when worn with black pointe shoes and solid satin ribbons which truncated the women’s leg lines. If the NYCB women insist on wearing sheer tights (whether black or pink), they should switch to sheer ribbons on their pointe shoes. The solid ribbons simply make the leg lines look broken and thick. Dancers know this.

 

        The black tutus with white under-tulle for the Grand Pas principals were just as pretty. So much loving care, exceptional skill, and hours of labor went into these art pieces that it seemed a shame to put them on stage on dancers who looked like it was a rehearsal. Hair strands flying all over, buns that purposely looked like they were about to fall out. No head ornamentation. The whole look was unfinished. And the point of all that was what ? Did they spend all their money on the costumes and couldn’t afford to buy hairspray or put a ribbon or ornament in the bun? To repeat, it all looked unfinished. Please re-think.

 

        We truly enjoyed seeing this Paquita 2.0 at NYCB, but we’re not giving up Pierre Lacotte’s full staging with all that sparkly opulence, those fancy hair combs, and, oh yes, those dazzling fouettes — not in a million years. 

 

        Our H.H. Pump Bump Award, a Louboutin tulle and lace pump, is bestowed upon Unity Phelan for her exquisite performance of the 2nd Variation.