Tragic Beauty

Where language falls silent, dance speaks. That is the case for balletic interpretations of Shakespeare’s great works—particularly Lar Lubovitch’s three-act “Othello,” choreographed for American Ballet Theatre in 1997. With this piece, American Ballet Theatre artistic director Susan Jaffe says before the start of the program, on the season’s opening night, we can think of “movement as a vessel for human emotion.”

Performance

American Ballet Theatre “Othello: A Dance in Three Acts” by Lar Lubovitch

Place

David H. Koch Theater, New York, NY, March 6, 2026

Words

Rebecca Deczynski

Calvin Royal III and James Whiteside in “Othello: A Dance in Three Acts” by Lar Lubovitch. Photograph by Steven Pisano

The complexity and at times haunting nature of Elliot Goldenthal’s original score—in particular, its use of the celesta—and the layered, Renaissance-meets-contemporary scenic design by George Tsypin immediately set a tenebrous tone for the ballet. But this foundation is matched quickly by the expressive port de bras of Calvin Royal III, portraying the titular character.

As Othello, Royal is a compelling and complex figure. The principal is one of ABT’s most princely dancers, known for his grace and lilting movements. It’s hard, at first, to imagine how he is to evolve over the course of three acts into a paranoid, and eventually violent, man. For the first act, at least, we get him as we’ve come to expect him: a gracious partner to Fangqi Li as Desdemona and a noble actor, contrasting deftly with James Whiteside’s conniving and campy Iago.

Li, playing the wife of Othello, is delicate and entrancing. Particularly when dancing with a partner, the soloist moves with ease and abandon. A central prop of Lubovich’s ballet is a handkerchief, which Othello gifts to his wife amid their wedding celebration. This object signifies love and fidelity, and the loss of it in the second act ultimately triggers Othello’s paranoia and accusations. With it in her possession, though, Li dances joyfully and lithely. As Royal whirls her around in unfolding lifts and turns, she herself has the quality of a handkerchief swaying in the breeze: light and carried by air.

Calvin Royal III in “Othello: A Dance in Three Acts” by Lar Lubovitch. Photograph by Steven Pisano

The trouble for these characters begins when Othello chooses Cassio, played by the charming and formidable Jake Roxander, for a promotion over Iago. And Roxander is ever the perfect part to play a young, up-and-coming threat. Lubovitch’s choreography gives him the opportunity to do what he does best: stun with showy, technically pristine pirouettes and jumps, which he finishes every so often with a cheeky, if not smug, wobble of his head. When Cassio dances with Desdemona—with Othello’s blessing—Li and Roxander move together so naturally it’s even easier to understand how her husband could come to such a false and deadly conclusion.

This cast, as a whole, prove naturally inclined to their roles. Soloist Breanne Granlund is exciting and energetic as Bianca, a woman of Cyprus who, in the second act, leads the corps in a rowdy tarantella. It takes a lot of control to throw your leg in attitude with such gusto and plenty of showmanship to stand out amid a sea of dancers moving their bodies in one mad mass.

Madison Brown—a corps de ballet member who joined the company in 2024—proves her mettle in a soloist role as Emilia, Iago’s wife. Originally assigned to principal Isabella Boylston (who recently announced her pregnancy, Emilia is a challenging role, requiring both deft acting skills and clean, precise technique: the ability to hold one’s own against a longtime principal like Whiteside and a rising soloist like Li. Brown is an emotive dancer with sharp, striking technique and long lines, and a level of visible comfort that allows her to fully embody a role. Her Emilia is heartbreaking in her powerlessness, but powerful in her performance. Brown, it’s clear, has a very bright future ahead.

Even in his role as a principal, Royal, too, shows his development as an artist. It helps to have Whiteside—leaning into his character acting with static, intense jolts of movement—as a foil to Royal’s more lyrical qualities. But Royal’s strongest moment in the ballet is when he’s on his own, dancing a solo that leads him to trade his smoothness for jerking, staccato accents. His Othello is more anguished than angry, and this differentiation is equally attributable to Royal’s artistic breadth and Lubovitch’s dynamic choreography.

Fangqi Li and Calvin Royal III in “Othello: A Dance in Three Acts” by Lar Lubovitch. Photograph by Steven Pisano

The excellence of the solo performances in “Othello” are not to take away from the strength of ABT’s corps, which plays an important role in bringing texture to the overall production. In the first act, pairs of men and women dance—the women in character shoes—both for and around the main characters, creating the effect of a grand ballroom.

In the second act, too, a group of female dancers, barefoot and hair flying, create the effect of a rocky ocean as Desdemona, Emilia, and Cassio, make their way on a ship back to shore. The unison of these dancers in thrashing passages has a mesmerizing effect, which is repeated, albeit with a different tone and tenor, during the tarantella. So often the corps de ballet functions as dynamic, moving parts of the set, casting a constantly moving background atop which the principal roles stand out in relief.

The vivacity of the corps makes it all the more compelling when the stage is occupied just with our main characters. When Othello and Desdemona are finally alone at the end of the ballet, their tension fills the empty space around them. Royal’s hands around Li’s head are tender yet threatening, and with her murder imminent, every movement provokes anxiety. That there is beauty in Desdemona’s death—wrangled by her husband who breaks her neck—makes the tragedy all the more deeply felt. The quiet gasp that Royal lets out, bringing a knife back into his own core, gives it a disquieting sense of closure.

Rebecca Deczynski

Rebecca Deczynski is a New York City-based writer and editor publishes the newsletter Mezzanine Society. Her work has appeared in publications including Inc., Domino, NYLON, and InStyle. She graduated from Barnard College cum laude with a degree in English and a minor in dance.

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