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Red Scares

American Ballet Theatre typically holds court in NYC twice a year. Their Summer Season at the Metropolitan Opera House features classical narrative full-lengths, and the Fall Season at the Koch Theater showcases edgier, short-form works. This year, the troupe added a brief Spring Season at the Koch, bridging the repertory gap in the process. For this inaugural March run, they included some narrative dance, but in newer and abbreviated forms. Lar Lubovitch’s full-length “Othello” is from the turn of the twenty-first century rather than the nineteenth. The “Firebird” is perhaps ballet’s most famous novella. And Petipa’s bulky old “Raymonda” was excerpted. Neoclassical pieces by George Balanchine, Jiří Kylián, and Alexei Ratmansky rounded out the programming. I made it to an excellent triple bill featuring Balanchine’s final work, “Mozartiana,” and two by Ratmansky: the devilishly hard pas de deux “Neo” and the acid-toned “Firebird,” from 2012.

Performance

American Ballet Theatre: “Mozartiana” by George Balanchine, “Neo” and “Firebird” by Alexei Ratmansky

Place

David H. Koch Theater, Lincoln Center, New York, NY, March 2026

Words

Faye Arthurs

Catherine Hurlin and Daniel Camargo in “Firebird by Alexei Ratmansky. Photograph by Nir Arieli

The phenomenal Chloe Misseldine helmed “Mozartiana” with elegance and impeccable control. I didn’t realize how much of a treat it would be to see someone so technically assured in the role. “Mozartiana” is usually the realm of the most senior ballerinas, who tend to have beautiful maturity as well as, inevitably, a bit of physical decline. Yet though Misseldine is just entering her prime, she already possesses artistic wisdom beyond her years.  She, alongside New York City Ballet’s Mira Nadon (another surprisingly youthful “Mozartiana” interpreter, though I have yet to see her in it) has ushered in a thrilling new era at Lincoln Center. 

Misseldine lingered in the tricky en pointe transitions from arabesque to passé in the opening Preghiera, softly echoing the Sugarplum Fairy’s snappy version of the step. And she conveyed the same graceful independence in the pas de deux, hitting high and secure fouettés into arabesque balances with little need of her partner, Michael Dé La Nuez. She also threw in a triple pirouette to b-plus and made all the tough swivels in her variations look like parlor games.

My only complaint is that it often looked too easy, though that was largely due to conductor Ormsby Wilkins’s slow tempi. Dé La Nuez and soloist Carlos Gonzales were even more disadvantaged by the sluggish Tchaikovsky, as their roles were less about extensions and balances. Gonzales’s Gigue suffered the most. This witty solo should be brisk enough that the dancer skims rings around the stage like a water bug. Unfortunately, it was so leisurely that every step sequence was isolated and plodding. Dé La Nuez held a few pretty arabesques to flesh out some of his music, but at other times he cheated to be more comfortable—even at that laggy pace. In the pas de deux sequence in which he is supposed to pirouette a split second before catching Misseldine in her own turn, he went much too early, before the music came in. 

Chloe Misseldine and Michael de la Nuez in “Mozartiana” by George Balanchine. Photograph by Natalia Sánchez

Chloe Misseldine and Michael de la Nuez in “Mozartiana” by George Balanchine. Photograph by Natalia Sánchez

Misseldine was very musical, and she handled the many syncopations well. With all that extra time, however, she could have danced bigger (the entrechat quatres should travel, for instance) and more urgently. Though she was gorgeous, she was occasionally too smoothly complacent for the Balanchine style (in which technical ease should only foster more daring). I recently watched Balanchine ballerina Debra Austin coach young NYCB dancers, and she demanded they push past their comfort zones—even when simply entering and posing in the silence before numbers. “Run in like you’re late for a party,” she instructed. Misseldine was not fashionably late for the ball; she was so early I felt I was getting ready with her in a luxury hotel suite for hours beforehand.  

This unhurried, ironed-out approach to Balanchine at ABT always baffles me, because, as they proved in both Ratmansky works that followed, they can dance very big and very fast. Christine Shevchenko moved as wildly as her long swishy ponytail in “Neo,” which followed a brief pause.  James Whiteside figuratively let his cropped hair down too, matching Shevchenko’s abandon in the many Flashdance runs, Rockette kicks, split jumps and head rolls. Their playfulness belied how hard their tasks were, however. “Neo” looks freewheeling, yet it is a technical gauntlet, full of gargouillades, poisson jumps, side-by-side fouettés, forward-traveling arabesque relevés (backwards is easy, forwards is torture) and a tough palm-on-head promenade. 

Delightful contradictions abounded in the staging too. You’d think this circus-y array would be set to bells and whistles, but the surprisingly spare score, by Dai Fujikura, was for a solo shamisen, played live by Sumie Kaneko—who matched Shevchenko and Whiteside’s fiery Moritz Junge costumes with a striking scarlet pantsuit. They were like embers flickering through the hazy black of the stage, which featured a large overhead light and smoke display—by Brad Fields—that resembled the ghost of a Danish artichoke pendant chandelier. Because of the shadows and the shamisen, in its quietest moments, “Neo” gave off opium den vibes. To Kaneko’s isolated, gliding twangs, Shevchenko performed attitude turns that sailed open to à la seconde—perfectly paired choreographic diphthongs.

Christine Shevchenko and James Whiteside in “Neo” by Alexei Ratmansky. Photograph by Nir Arieli

Christine Shevchenko and James Whiteside in “Neo” by Alexei Ratmansky. Photograph by Nir Arieli

This crimson drug trip nicely foreshadowed the blood-red nightmare of Ratmansky’s bold “Firebird,” which I’d never seen before. Brad Fields also lit this spooky environ, replete with hulking charcoal trees with red-tipped witch fingers instead of branches, by Simon Pastukh, and hallucinatory projections by Wendall K. Harrington. As in “Neo,” there was a lot going on. Instead of one firebird, Ratmansky had a flock of seventeen—both male and female—upping the red body count to 20 for the night. They wore Galina Solovyeva’s shiny ruby unitards with massive feather bustles and headdresses. Their leader was the real-life redhead Catherine Hurlin, who blazed tirelessly through her every athletic entrance. (In a “Giselle”-like twist, this Firebird dances everyone “until they collapse from exhaustion.”) 

Onto this pack of avian Fraggles stumbled Daniel Camargo, as the hero Ivan, though he got to their hellscape through a plain doorway in a bare room. He was clad in white satin, the perfect foil to Cory Stearns, as the evil sorcerer Katschei, who sported all black below the neck. On his head he wore a green bride-of Frankenstein wig with black lightning zigzags, which broadcast his puppet-master ties to a harem of captive maidens in matching green harlot wigs and gowns. Sunmi Park, as Ivan’s lost love, led these inmates, engaging in comically exaggerated and grotesque mime with Ivan as he tried to simultaneously woo and rescue her.  

The prisoners’ choreography was often clownish and frantic, including a heel dig step with wheelie arms. Another refrain was a hunched walk with speedskater port de bras. The maidens also performed fast, turned-in pirouettes and skitters on pointe, as well as panting, obedient bunny hops after their evil master. They made a few Busby Berkeley tableaux around him in adoration. It was all a bit icky, as when Kaschei discovered Ivan’s intrusion into his haunted milieu when he kissed Park and her mouth tasted like someone else. This meant, of course, that Ivan had kissed her despite her trancelike state. I don’t know how all this read back in 2012, but today, it sure evoked the specter of Jeffrey Epstein’s grooming and sexual enslavement of young women. Ratmansky, as ever, was ahead of his time.

But overall, this “Firebird” was psychologically rather than politically motivated. Freudian imagery was everywhere: from the beginning, when Ivan crossed the threshold of the unmarked door, to the euphoric ending in which the large cast donned virginal white nightgowns (like Clara/Marie in “The Nutcracker”) and passé jumped for joy in front of a firework display. Even the use of Stravinsky’s lovely Berceuse was emotionally fraught. Where Balanchine used this lullaby to glorify his ladybird savior, Ratmansky employed it as a slo-mo pas de quatre for his main cast—the Firebird, lead Maiden, Ivan, and Kaschei—as they jockeyed for power. At its end, Kaschei and the Maiden lay spooning together. Ivan and the Firebird were only able to break their sexual bond by smashing a giant egg that contained Kaschei’s soul, which was hidden deep inside one of the scary trees. Two more “Firebirds” are coming this spring: from the NYCB and the Dance Theatre of Harlem. But I have a feeling that ABT’s will easily win for most terrifying.              

Faye Arthurs


Faye Arthurs is a former ballet dancer with New York City Ballet. She chronicled her time as a professional dancer in her blog Thoughts from the Paint. She graduated summa cum laude with a B.A. in English from Fordham University. She lives in Brooklyn with her partner and their sons.

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