Frankenstein
If the ballet world now seems inundated with Dracula productions, Frankenstein adaptations are a rarer sight.
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The stage is strewn with potatoes. Single straight back chair, overturned. A canteen. At center is a life scale charcoal sketch, unframed on canvas. It looks like a human figure topped by a dark smudge of a head—the shape calls to mind a famous work of Gustav Klimt. A narrator (Viviane Eng) recites a brief note written by the choreographer: “I dance with various You but one at a time . . . Dancing with You brings back memories, but a moment later, I dig my head into the ground, missing You . . .Why potatoes? They are bombs. They are dead bodies on the ground..” The final line is, “I have nothing.”
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If the ballet world now seems inundated with Dracula productions, Frankenstein adaptations are a rarer sight.
PlusIt’s amusing to read in Pacific Northwest Ballet’s generally exceptional program notes that George Balanchine choreographed the triptych we now know as “Jewels” because he visited Van Cleef & Arpels and was struck by inspiration. I mean, perhaps visiting the jeweler did further tickle his imagination, but—PR stunt, anyone?
PlusAs I watch one after another pastel tutu clad ballerina bourrée into the arms of a white-tighted danseur, a melody not credited on the program floats through my brain. You know the one.
PlusMisty Copeland’s upcoming retirement from American Ballet Theatre—where she made history as the first Black female principal dancer and subsequently shot to fame in the ballet world and beyond—means many things.
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