danceview
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Reviews

New York Report

Ballet Memphis, Les Ballets Grandiva, Fort Worth Dallas Ballet, School of American Ballet Workshop

by Mary Cargill
copyright © 2001 by Mary Cargill
Summer 2001

Ballet Memphis made its New York debut in April at the Kaye Playhouse with a series of modern pieces. (Like most visitors to New York, Ballet Memphis left its classics at home.) The program opened with Mark Godden’s Angels in the Architecture, set to Aaron Copland’s Appalachian Spring; while Godden’s audacity was striking, the results were disappointing. The Shaker elements (chairs and brooms) seemed decorative, used as gimmicks not symbols. At one point, the men danced with the brooms; it may have been a subtle comment on New Age masculinity, but looked more like a group of men playing horsy. Nor was the religious flavor of the music developed; at times the women lifted their long flowing skirts over their heads like a row of slow motion can-can dancers, not an evocative symbol of the celibate Shakers. Though the company danced well, the fussy, uncharacterized nature of the choreography left little impression.

George and Betty’s House, choreographed by Danial Shapiro and Joanie Smith, a satire of a 1950’s suburban couple, had plenty of character, and Joseph Jefferies and Maria-Angeles Llamas, with Tom Barker as the really big baby, performed with an unselfconscious conviction. The organization man/TV sitcom nuclear family is an easy target, and the choreography was not subtle (or concise), but their dancing was clear and direct; it seemed like an interesting challenge.

There were two works by Trey McIntyre, Excerpts from Memphis and Second Before Ground. Unfortunately an injury meant that only a piece of the first ballet was performed, a pas de deux danced by Llamas and Andrew Allagreee set to a song by B. B. King. The set, by Thomas Boyd, was simple and very atmospheric, evoking a gritty, urban emptiness, but the choreography seemed to miss some of the self-absorbed loneliness of the song. Hearing “The thrill is gone, I’m free from your spell” while watching dancers grab and grope, however expertly, just doesn’t mesh.

The final piece, an ensemble work, was set to selections of infectiously rhythmical modern African music recorded by the Kronos quartet. The costumes, designed by McIntyre, were lovely; golden brown 1930’s style trousers for the boys, knee-length cream-fading-to-rose dresses for the principal girls, and short gold Poiret-pleated skirts for the corps girls. The setting, a bare stage with a clear view of the unadorned wings seemed to land the audience in Forsythe land, with its subtle contempt for audience members wishing to see the stage as a separate world, but as the ballet progressed, it really seemed as if the high spirits and joy of the choreography could not be contained by the stage and was spilling out into the wings. The choreography for the men was especially striking, with a lot of elegant footwork and delicate, musical little jumps. But the whole piece was pure joy and the program ended on a triumphant note.

Fans of tutus could revel in the return of Les Ballets Grandiva, the recently formed all-male comedy company, which returned to New York in April, performing at the TriBeCa Performing Arts Center. The highlight was the premiere of Peter Anastos’ Serenadiana; Anastos was one of the founders of the inimitable Trockeraderos, and his 1980’s Balanchine parody Go for Barocco is a brilliant, musical send-up done with wit and style. Serenadiana, too, is a wonderful take-off of Balanchine. The obvious jokes are there, of course, with skirts flying all over the place at inconvenient moments. But there are subtle touches, as well. The implicit drama of Serenade is exposed and exaggerated when one dancer frantically and musically mimed Giselle’s daisy scene, and the slightly dazed men of Serenade are parodied by a hapless wanderer wearing blue, increasingly baggy, Dr. Denton’s.

The rarely seen—in the West anyway—Petipaish gem, the Satanella Pas de Deux, was danced by Raymond Von Mason, a pudgy little devil (literally), twirling his tail and Titania Deblockova (in real life the fine dancer Bart Deblock) who danced the female variation without exaggeration or gimmicks. The variation was not played for laughs, and it was oddly moving to see a classical ballerina variation danced with such reverence and style. There were no exaggerated extensions or look-at-me mannerisms, just a lovely line and a pure and quite successful attempt to do justice to the beautiful choreography.

Star Spangled Ballerina, by Marcus Galante (somewhat after Balanchine) was the rousing closer, Stars and Stripes danced by cheerleaders on speed, shamelessly and hilarious vamping the audience. It was a very successful program, witty as well as funny.

Another work by Peter Anastos, Yes Virginia, Another Piano Ballet, his takeoff of the chiffon-drenched, folksy, Jerome Robbins pieces, made a welcome appearance when the Fort Worth Dallas Ballet appeared at the Joyce Theater in June. The timing was perfect; the New York City Ballet was performing Robbins’ Dances at a Gathering, so the pratfalls were even more pointed. The poor dancer cowering before a difficult lift or the girl’s screams as she was being twirled around were even funnier, since many in the audience had just seen the original.

Anastos had choreographed the work for the all-male Trocaderos, but none of the jokes suffered in the translaition, since Anastos’ humor is in the choreography, and does not rely only on the sight of hairy-chested men in dresses. The company danced it very well, playing the exaggerated weltschmerz, the frantic shifts of mood, and the self-satisfied heel-and-toe folk flourishes as if they were serious, which of course made it even funnier. Igor Dombrovsky with his aristocratic disdain and Christy Corbitt Miller with her daffy lyricism were especially funny.

The program opened with Principia, by Kevin O’Day, an energetic piece for four couples, and was followed by Fingerprints by Stanton Welch, another energetic piece for four couples. Principia was choreographed to new-agey music by Steve Martland, which had a distinct rhythm but not much character. O’Day’s choreography for the men was the most interesting, with a brief, blusey duet for two men and a longer piece for all four men (Mariano Albano, Rich Callender, Andre Claude Kaltenrieder, and Michael Clark) with a lot of boxing and rolling. The various pas de deux, performed with the trendy sullen, alienated expressions, were not very individualized, though the charming Bettina Sarmiento could not help but light up the stage.

Fingerprints was choreographed to an amalgam of modern African music; Trey McIntyre had used many of the same pieces in his Second Before the Ground. Welch, unlike McIntyre, worked in African inflections, both in the costumes (long, full black and white pat-terned culottes for both men and women) and in the feel of the choreography. In fact, the actual point work seemed extraneous and frantic; he was most successful when he was most modern and he used an undulating, sensuous walk to great effect. Michelle Gifford, with her long limbs, was particularly effective, and Christy Corbitt Miller, alone on the stage to end the piece, had a touching dignity. It was a shame that the works chosen didn’t allow more of the dancers’ distinctive person-alities and gifts to shine.

There were certainly some distinctive personalities and gifts at the annual School of American Ballet workshop, held at the Juilliard Theater in June. The program opened with Balanchine’s Divertimento No. 15, a difficult ballet for anyone, much less students. The music was played very fast, making it seem a bit rushed and breathless, and some of the soloists had trouble keeping up. But Megan Fairchild, who danced the final variation, was a joy. The old description of dancers making lace with their feet seemed to come to life; her footwork in her solo was sharp, clear, and delicate. She danced within herself, and there were no unseemly grand ballerina airs, just a sense of an elegant young girl having a wonderful time.

Melissa Barak’s Telemann Overture Suite in E Minor premiered as the middle ballet. Barak is a very young NYCB corps dancer, and this is her first piece to be seen publicly; it was an impressive debut. Clearly she has studied her Balanchine and the piece was a formal exercise for dancers in practice clothes. The formations for the large cast were interesting and varied, she moved the dancers around in patterns very well, and she avoided some elementary mistakes. She didn’t pack in too many steps, she didn’t have a lovelorn pas de deux, which would not have suited her young cast, and she didn’t aim for profundity. This was a very well shaped work that suited her dancers’ youth, energy, and style. The solos for the two principles, Carly Sebouhian and Stephanie Sullivan, were distinctive and well suited to their individual gifts. Sebouhian, with her buoyancy and phrasing, was especially impressive.

The program concluded with Nikolaj Hübbe’s staging of Bournonville’s Napoli: pas de six and Tarantella. The deceptively difficult Bournonville style is foreign to most American dancers, and often, so is his generous, modest, openhearted spirit. But the dancers looked relaxed and eager, keeping the legs low and the arms, by and large, gentle. Katherine Bergstrom was very appealing in her solo with the soft flowing sideways jumps and her little kisses to the audience didn’t look forced or coy. Among the men, Ben Griffiths stood out for his control and Andrew Kaminski for his elegance; he has a wonderful carriage and knows how to stand on the stage. The men did not have the traditional hats to toss in the finale, but the audience metaphorically tossed their hats in appreciation of the chance to see the lilting, cheerful, beautiful choreo-graphy danced so freshly.