Dancing Perfectly Free

(photograph by Lois Greenfield)

A few days ago, after my ballet class at Dance New Amsterdam (DNA), I walked through the small second-floor gallery to see “Celestial Bodies”, an exhibit of dance photographs by Lois Greenfield.  The fifteen images show individuals or pairs of dancers suspended in air - never in poses, but rather, caught by Greenfield’s camera at a specific moment as they continually moved.  In an interview held at DNA, which you can watch here, Greenfield explains that she is “anti-posing”, preferring that dancers “be free to experiment with movement” as she photographs them.  She also explains that she likes to portray dancers as supernatural or other-worldly, which is evident not only in this exhibit, but also in the majority of dance photographs she has taken since the 1970s.  Some of the dancers in “Celestial Bodies” hold colorful sheets of fabric that flow gracefully around them, while others hold circular mirrors (or in the case above, jump over a mirror) to show their reflections, creating two different images in one shot.   

The photographs are more meaningful after listening to Greenfield’s interview.  Although I enjoy the pristine, heavenly quality of her work, I have equal appreciation for dance photographs that capture the human aspect of dancers - the sweat, the bruises, a strained expression, a few stray hairs from a bun.  While Greenfield’s photographs make dance look effortless, it’s important to remember that dancers are only human, which isn’t something that always has to be covered up in a photograph.   

“Celestial Bodies” is on display until August 31^st, and is open daily from 9 AM to 9 PM.  More information can be found here, and watch the interview with Greenfield here. 

New York City Ballet’s “Seasons” program presented two distinctly different works that exemplified the choreographic breadth of Jerome Robbins. The dark, meditative Watermill uses the seasons to convey the passing of time and the different stages in a man’s life, while The Four Seasons is a spirited personification of winter, spring, summer, and fall.

Before seeing Robbins’ 1972 Watermill on Saturday evening, I had heard plenty of words associated with this ballet: controversial, long, boring, unnecessary. I think anything defined as controversial is worth seeing, and although this ballet was definitely too long and at times rather boring, I’m still glad I saw it. There is little action throughout this hour-long piece, which presented several fragments - albeit critical ones - in a man’s life. Changes in the moon’s phases conveyed the passing of time. The stage was bare except for three large bundles of wheat and a golden moon on the backdrop. Nikolaj Hubbe, guest starring in the main role, appeared on stage, and after at least ten minutes of walking ever so slowly, he stripped down to his underwear and then sat in the corner of the stage, perhaps reflecting on his existence as the ballet began to illustrate excerpts from his life. The audience saw young boys running with kites, women harvesting wheat, a not-so-subtle sexual encounter (probably the most risqué choreography I’ve seen in NYCB’s repertory), and a young man being attacked by a beast.

(Jerome Robbins’ Watermill, photo by Paul Kolnik)

Robbins used Noh, ancient Japanese drama that is characterized by poetic, slow-moving plays, as the backbone for Watermill. Every gesture, every action, is done incredibly slowly and with purpose. In the lead female role, Kaitlyn Gilliland spent at least ten minutes untying her robe, removing her hair from a towel, and then repeatedly brushing her hair. Perhaps the slow movement and passing of time contributed to the ballet’s dramatic effect, but after a certain amount of time - twenty minutes or so - this device wore thin. The ballet could have been just as effective in a lot less time. It is worth noting that the music for Watermill was played by six musicians who sat at the corner of the stage, playing a variety of bamboo flutes called Shakuhachi. Also of interest: This ballet apparently received a lot of boo’s on opening night, February 3, 1972. On Saturday, I heard a few during the curtain call, as well as several remarks about how “boring” and “ridiculously long” it was.

After such a sluggish and depressing opening to the program, The Four Seasons was a breath of fresh air. With music by Giuseppe Verdi, this large-cast piece portrays each season with a lead couple and corps of dancers. Winter shivered and frolicked about trying to keep warm. Megan Fairchild, Antonio Carmena, and Sean Suozzi - in the leads - all looked a little stiff in their upper bodies, but perhaps they were attempting to convey chilliness in the air? Nevertheless, they were entertaining and cheeky. Spring was a slow waltz, danced beautifully by Sara Mearns and Jared Angle. While the jumping quartet of men that accompanied them was sprightly and full of zip - the way that spring should be - the pas de deux for Mearns and Angle didn’t seem fitting for spring. In fact, I think that Robbins’ personifications of Fall and Spring were mixed up. Spring should have been livelier and more buoyant (at least for the lead couple), while Fall should have been slower, with less perkiness. In Fall, Ashley Bouder’s circle of pirouettes was precise and full of energy, and Daniel Ulbricht’s jester-like jumps were a crowd-pleaser. Bouder and Ulbricht are two of the most technically capable and thoroughly entertaining dancers in the company, so it’s a joy to see them in any role. However, they both seem more suitable for personifying Spring than Fall, but this has more to do with my own choreographic ideas for these seasons than with the ballet itself. Summer was accurately sleepy and sultry. Rebecca Krohn and Tyler Angle captured the mood of this season with their grounded movement and deliberate heaviness, and she ended asleep on his knee.

The Four Seasons embodies a classicism that is more closely associated with Balanchine, and this ballet does, in fact, look like a piece that Balanchine could have choreographed. It is pleasing to the eye and humorous at times, but not one of my favorites of Robbins. However, next to Watermill, it’s delightfully refreshing.

I returned to Chelsea on Friday night with several friends for a second viewing of Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet’s Glassy Essence. I enjoyed it as much as I did the first time, although there were many more people there, so it was a bit challenging to move freely around the space. After telling my friends so much about the installation and encouraging them to attend, I was pleased that they loved it, too. The wall of blocks (shown above) seemed to be everyone’s favorite part.

I planned on leaving my camera at home since I took so many photos the first time I went. In fact, Matt Murphy and I agreed that we should lock our cameras away to resist taking photos at the second viewing. But at the last second, I decided to bring it along. Here are a few final photos of the installation. Also, check out the Glassy Essence photo page to see photos submitted by audience members.

There was definitely a beginning-of-the-season buzz in the air at the NY State Theater on Wednesday night. I heard plenty of snippets of gossip about dancers, and just as many opinions about their dancing. But the mood shifted ever so subtly when Peter Martins came on stage before the performance began. He announced that 25 years ago, to the day, George Balanchine passed away. Martins gave a brief but praiseworthy speech about Mr. Balanchine, who was (and still is) the heart and soul of the company, and explained that even though the majority of the current NYCB dancers never met Mr. B, “they dance as if they knew him”. He then raised a shot of vodka, asked the audience to stand, and we toasted to Mr. Balanchine.

This was a fitting way to begin the evening’s “Symphonic Balanchine” program, which opened with Balanchine’s purely classical Symphony in C, to Bizet’s score of the same title. Four different couples dance in the four distinct movements, along with a large corps, with the women wearing white tutus and the men in shiny black tights and long-sleeved tops. The first section is bright and cheerful, danced with charisma and dynamism by Abi Stafford and Jonathan Stafford (siblings). In spite of the rapid footwork and pirouettes, Abi looked relaxed and utterly happy to be on stage.

Most striking and memorable (for both the dancing and the music) was the slower, more dramatic second movement of the ballet. And luckily, the audience was treated to the gorgeous, lush dancing of Sara Mearns, along with Charles Askegard. Her limbs extended endlessly, filling every ounce of Bizet’s symphony, and her upper body was like liquid as she arched back several times into Askegard’s arms. One of the more exquisite moments of this section was when Askegard pressed his hands against Mearns’ torso, opened his arms quickly and gracefully to the side, and then Mearns slowly fell backward into his arms. The momentum for this phrase of movement clearly started with Askegard’s hands on her torso, and continued seamlessly through her fall.

The third and fourth movements were both allegros that required precise musicality from the dancers, and at this they were successful. The exciting finale included the entire cast on stage, in neat formations, completing a series of pirouettes, jumps, and lifts. This is one of Balanchine’s more technically challenging ballets, but he reminds the audience of the importance of simple classroom exercises when the corps does a series of tendus, extending one leg along the floor to the front, side, or back.

Symphony in Three Movements, which premiered on the first night of the 1972 Stravinsky Festival, is a more neoclassical work that captures the complexity and jazziness of Stravinsky’s score. The piece features turned-in legs, pedestrian walking with pumping arms, and flexed feet. Since this is a “leotard” ballet, the corps wore simple white leotards, while the three lead women wore various shades of pink, all with their hair in high ponytails instead of the more classical bun. Sterling Hyltin and Daniel Ulbricht’s turned-in jumps were athletic, powerful, and high! Everyone gasped at Ulbricht’s first big jump. I sensed that he and Hyltin were competing to “outjump” each other. Adrian Danchig-Waring was an excellent, reliable partner for Savannah Lowery (making a role debut), and he danced with his usual striking poise as well as a refreshing confidence and ease. Wendy Whelan and Albert Evans’s pas de deux reflects Balanchine at his quirkiest, with a series of flexed limbs, angular shapes, and contracted lifts. But rather than appearing merely peculiar, this section seemed to be thoughtful and sincere because of the slower tempo and melodic solo for flute. Whelan infused the movement with a combination of athleticism, grace, sharpness, and fluidity - and a youthfulness that I hadn’t noticed when previously seeing her in this role.

Western Symphony was delightful. And fun! It had been at least ten years since I last saw this ballet - a tribute to American folk dancing - and I forgot how enjoyable it is, and how much fun the dancers seem to be having. With Hershy Kay’s orchestrations of classic American folk songs, the dancers moved in square-dance formations, kicked their legs overhead, and promenaded with their partners. Kathryn Morgan debuted in the second movement, partnered by Adam Hendrickson. The two engaged in a playful flirtation, danced together, and then separated at the end as Morgan bourréed off stage the same way that she entered. Morgan’s timing was excellent, allowing her to hold arabesques for just a second longer than I thought possible. The highlight of the piece, however, was Teresa Reichlen and Damian Woetzel in the ballet’s final movement. Their duet is sassy, flirtatious, and showy. Reichlen seemed much more confident in her sassiness and acting abilities than in the past (she performed similar flirty roles last season in Union Jack and “Rubies” from Jewels), while Woetzel, in spite of his noticeably graying hair and upcoming retirement, looked as youthful and flirtatious as ever. There was no lack of energy in their dancing, and Reichlen’s solid fouettes near the end of the ballet wowed the audience.

I only heard positive remarks about the program as I left the theater. Allegra Kent, who I had the pleasure of sitting next to for the performance, was smiling broadly and seemed generally pleased with all of the dancing. NYCB’s spring season is off to a wonderful start.

For another review of the performance, check out Philip’s post.

I came across this post on Well, the NY Times Health blog.  The reversible image, designed by Nobuyuki Kayahara, shows a spinning dancer that some people will see spinning clockwise while others will see her spinning counterclockwise.  I was not surprised to learn that I saw her spinning clockwise, which suggests that I’m right-brained and creative, as opposed to left-brained and logical.  However, the article points out that the image tells us much more about how vision works than how the brain works.

Click here to read the post and see the spinning dancer.  Also, I recommend staring at the image for a few minutes to see if it flips.  For most people, the dancer will eventually reverse directions, but after about ten minutes of watching intently, she was still turning clockwise to me.  Hmm…

On Saturday around noon, I headed to the New 42^nd Street Studios to watch a rehearsal of TAKE Dance Company (pronounced TA-kay) for their upcoming performances at Columbia’s Miller Theater, May 15-17.  Nine floors above the bustling crowds and noise of Times Square, I entered a beautiful, sunlit studio where about ten dancers were rehearsing a section of a piece that is danced in silence.  The only sounds were the dancers’ breathing and the creeks of the floor as they moved about.  After a few minutes, artistic director Takehiro (Take) Ueyama (who is a former dancer with Paul Taylor Dance Company) broke the silence and gave some corrections regarding the spacing and timing.  Moments later, the dancers started soaring through the space in another section of the piece that was lively, upbeat, and celebratory - and also exhausting, since most of the dancers collapsed to the floor at the end and took deep breaths.  Some parts of the piece needed to be polished, but with three weeks to go until the performances at Miller, the dancers have plenty of time to work out the kinks. 

Next, I watched a trio of duets called “Love Stories”, danced by Nana Tsuda and Kile Adair Hotchkiss.  The piece was poignant and tender, and the dancers’ differences in appearance - she is small and slight while he is much taller and muscular - made it all the more interesting to watch.  After the run-through, Take asked them to work on a lift where Nana runs downstage and leaps backwards into Kile’s arms.  “Higher”, he told Nana several times.  After a few more tries, there was a definite improvement.

What I enjoyed most about the rehearsal was that it was an opportunity to observe the rehearsal process and the way that Take interacted with the dancers, as well as the way the dancers interacted with one another.  The atmosphere was friendly and laidback (several dancers said hello to me and the other bloggers throughout the rehearsal), but everyone was clearly working diligently.  Seeing the studio rehearsal has also increased my excitement about the upcoming performances, as it will be interesting to watch the transformations that take place from studio to stage: costumes will replace sweats and t-shirts; the movement will be more polished; and the dancers will be dancing full-out, with an adrenaline rush that usually comes with performing. 

Many thanks to April Thibeault for inviting me and the other bloggers and greeting us at the rehearsal. 

(In the lobby of the Tilles Center before the performance)

On Friday night, Allison and I took two subway lines, an LIRR ride, and a taxi to get to the Tilles Center on Long Island to see Miami City Ballet, but the trek was totally worth it since the company’s program included three works by Balanchine and our favorite ballet - ever: Twyla Tharp’s In the Upper Room with music by Philip Glass.  We’ve seen this exhilarating, breathtaking piece performed by ABT at least 4 or 5 times, but unfortunately, the company didn’t perform it at last fall’s City Center engagement.  So when we discovered that Room would be performed by MBC - a company that neither of us has ever seen - on Long Island, we jumped at the opportunity to see it. 

Balanchine’s Raymonda Variations was first on the program.  This piece allowed me to see what MCB’s female corps looked like.  Although the women were well-rehearsed, solid on formations, and together on timing, many of them were not as technically strong as I thought they would be, considering that MCB is one of the top ballet companies in the country.  Some pirouettes were shaky and the footwork not very precise.  However, the lone male in the piece, Renato Penteado, was technically impressive, especially in the petit allegro solo.  Still, there was not enough feeling in the movement (from all of the dancers), but perhaps this has more to do with the lack of emotional depth in Raymonda than with the dancers themselves.  

Sonatine is a laid-back duet for a man and a woman, with a pianist on stage playing music by Maurice Ravel.  There’s almost a lazy or sleepy quality to the stylized arm movements, hip swivels, and port de bras that the woman repeatedly completes into the man’s arms, but both Jeremy Cox and Haiyan Wu managed to infuse the movement with energy.  In contrast to this sleepy duet was Tarantella, a duet that requires sharp, rapid footwork, precise musicality, and the ability to use a tambourine while jumping and turning - all at breakneck speed.  Alex Wong (who happens to be a Winger contributor) and Jeanette Delgado definitely had what it took to get through this seven-minute piece.   They interacted well and really got into character.

The evening ended with In the Upper Room, a 40-minute marathon that is the ultimate test of stamina in the ballet world.  The dancers were spot on, and when they were supposed to be dancing in unison, they were truly dancing in unison.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen this piece performed so solidly and with such clean execution of Tharp’s choreography.  The dancers were energetic and experts at attacking the movement, with Wong and the other two “stomper” men, Jeremy Cox and Daniel Baker, deserving special mention.  And yet, there was still something missing for me.  Allison said she was shaking at the end and utterly thrilled, but I thought that this performance of Room lacked the spark - and I’m really unsure about what exactly this is - that made my heart race the first time I saw it.  Perhaps I set my expectations too high, or expected to feel exactly the way I did after seeing Tharp’s masterpiece for the first time.  Hopefully the spark will be present the next time I see Room, or maybe by then I’ll have figured out what the little spark is that makes this ballet - when performed flawlessly - so elating and stirring.

(A curtain call for In the Upper Room)

Many bloggers, including Philip, Matt, and Tonya, have already shared their thoughts on Cedar Lake’s “360-degree interactive piece”, and I encourage you to visit their blogs. But I decided to write a little more about the evening, as well.

The majority of viewers tended to shift away from the dancers, perhaps fearing that they would be in the way as the company members wove in and out of the clusters of people that filled the large space. It would have been interesting to see more people interact with the dancers, or maybe even intentionally walk in their path. In concert dance, we are so used to having a defined barrier between audience and stage, so that once there is an opportunity to break that barrier, we still tend to stay within our comfort zone because we are unsure of the “right” or “wrong” way to engage with the dancers. Of course, there is no right or wrong. The beauty of being in such close proximity of the dancers is the ability to improvise and just see what happens. Every performance will be different, which is why I’m hoping to see Glassy Essence again.

There was often a central couple, soloist, or group of dancers on which the audience focused, while other dancers performed elsewhere in the space, usually in dimmed lighting. I enjoyed watching the less central dances because I was interested in seeing what artistic director and choreographer Benoit-Swan Pouffer had in mind for the “background” movement, which reminds me of my tendency during a ballet performance to watch the corps de ballet even while a lead couple is dancing center stage. And with so much to take in at once, it was nice to wander around and catch glimpses of everything, rather than focusing on one part of the space for a prolonged period of time. In a way, the installation felt like a moving museum, with the “exhibits” constantly changing.

One of my favorite parts of the installation was the wall of blocks - a large flat wall with 3-dimensional blocks of different sizes attached to it. The dancers sat or stood on the blocks, hung from them, and gracefully connected to other dancers’ limbs, all while creating interesting shapes and sculptures with their bodies. It effectively illustrated how a flat, 2-dimensional wall can become a three-dimensional playground that evolves as the dancers navigate its space.

In fact, the piece explored as much space as possible with the help of flying contraptions, the wall, a table, and little square blocks on the floor. Swan excels at experimenting with different surfaces, and figuring out how the dancers can work with (and against) them.

It was refreshing to snap photos throughout the performance (I took over 100), and I’m glad that the company encouraged viewers to do so. There was even a photo sharing booth, where viewers could upload photos after the performance and then let Cedar Lake post them on its website. Some of mine and Allison’s, as well as several from other bloggers, can be seen here. Another high-tech highlight of the evening was the USB bracelet, which Allison photographed on my wrist in her post. The performance was video-recorded and then uploaded to flash drives. On our way out, the bloggers and I each received a USB bracelet with an entire video of the performance. Of course, a video cannot capture the multi-dimensionality of a live performance. And in this case, the video shows the installation from the video-recorder’s perspective. However, it’s still exciting to be able to re-live parts of the performance on video, and I applaud Cedar Lake for being so innovative and progressive with their use of technology.

Glassy Essence was certainly memorable and impressive, and I was shocked to hear from Swan that the company only had three intense weeks of rehearsals. Performances continue this weekend and May 1-3 at 8 PM and 9 PM. Ticket info is here.

More Glassy Essence pictures to enjoy… Check out all the bloggers’ photos on the Glassy Essence website: http://www.glassyessence.com/photos/

USB bracelets with a video of the evening’s performance

I just returned from an incredible evening of dance at Cedar Lake’s space in Chelsea.  The company’s newest installation, Glassy Essence, starts tomorrow, but about 85 people were invited to tonight’s dress rehearsal.  Several other dance bloggers and I - with cameras in hand, of course - were lucky enough to be there.  After the 45-minute piece, we chatted with artistic director “Swan” and the audience outreach intern, Caleb.  Here are just a few photos from the performance.  Much more to come soon!

(Jessica Lee Keller on a wall of blocks)

 (Nickemil Concepcion and Jessica Lee Keller)