World-class review of ballet and dance.
Balanchine thought that wondering what a ballet was about was like pondering the theme of a flower. Cunningham averred that a dance was as fraught with meaning as stepping in to a diner for a cup of coffee. Puzzling over “themes” in dance marks you as a yokel, and the closest most sophisticated choreographers will come to indulging you is to defer to the music or some other structural element unlikely to yield answers.
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For his first New York City performance, Bronx-born Rudy Perez presented a program of dance solos. It was the mid-1960s, and the venue was one of those “alternative” spaces that sat about 50. As he began the concert, Perez says that he noticed there were only four people in the audience—and they were all sitting together.
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The first thing that you see as you enter the space is the slumped body of performer/dancer Caroline Bowditch on a bright yellow table, looking in a mirror at herself, looking at the audience looking back at her. Such an act is a statement of intent: Edinburgh Fringe sell-out “Falling in Love with Frida” is both self-reflexive portrait and a homage to the great Mexican painter Frida Kahlo (1907-54).
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The two-week fall season of American Ballet Theatre at the Lincoln Center offered the audience the thrill of discovering something new and the joy of reconnecting with much-beloved classics; but most importantly it showed the company in its full power, with the members of the corps de ballet and the soloists sharing center stage with the principal dancers in a variety of short works.
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For Matisse, who ‘carved’ into colour, blue was the sound of a gong. For Kandinsky, blue was instead evoked by the sound of the cello, which he played. For the poet Arthur Rimbaud, blue was the vowel ‘O’, and it was a “sublime Trumpet full of strange piercing sounds.” Arranged in a line, Rimbaud’s Vowels (1871), from ‘A’ to ‘O’ in colour read: black, white, red, blue, green. On Sunday night, Sydney Dance Company became a body of sound to the Australian Chamber Orchestra’s sounding body. For one night only in Melbourne, a soundscape became a landscape! And blue was...
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Coloured fanciful and utterly distorted, the window onto the world, trumpeted the circus of former glory: Let me show you the fantastical, long-necked “cameleopard”[note]The “cameleopard” turned out to be a giraffe, as the mysteries of the world moved from the ‘discovered’ realm of explorers to the big top’s window on the world.[/note] of yore; behold “300 dancing girls in entrancing revels.”[note]Ringling Brothers advertisement from 1913 in Dominique Jando, “Wonders of the World Await You,” The Circus 1870s–1950s, ed. Noel Daniel, (Germany: Taschen, 2010), 111[/note] The promise of “the marvels of many nations,”[note]The world map depicted on W. W. Cole’s 1881 circus courier...
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We could be watching children flit across an imagined stage, constructing a mock performance for their elders or, perhaps, their porcelain dolls. The six dancers here are innocent—ignorant, even. They stretch their arms and snap their fingers. They are focused on perfecting their practice. But they are not trying to charm each other—yet.
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With 24 dancers and six actors, “The Art of Falling,” a collaboration between Hubbard Street Dance Chicago and the improvisational comedy troupe, the Second City, is not only startlingly original, but, in a way, unclassifiable.
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Paying homage to American composers, a new program of five ballets, titled “Americana x Five” and presented as part of New York City Ballet’s fall season at Lincoln Center, covered an impressively broad range of choreographic and musical styles and moods—from classical to modern to Broadway.
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On this evening at the Citadel, the audience were turned longways; the brick wall to our right. We looked from tiered seating to a small white square floor with a good number of coloured lights on the ceiling and at the edges. The set up is important because this performance was about memories, memories from childhood, and how you frame a memory can be everything.
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Finding my seat at Ohad Naharin and Batsheva Dance Company’s “Decadance,” the performance has already begun. In his own private world, on the stage of the State Theatre, Shamel Pitts, in a loose black suit and untucked white shirt, is dancing and I am so glad I have arrived with enough time to catch his playful, loose-kneed, liquid groove. To the side-to-side sway of early samba and late ’50s bossa nova, his moves call to mind how we might all dance if no one were watching. It is the contented, inward, and liberated dance of getting ready for a party,...
PlusWatching Matthew Bourne's reworked version of the “star-cross'd lovers,” I was briefly reminded of Veronica, played by Winona Ryder, in the dark 1988 comedy by Daniel Waters and Michael Lehmann, Heathers, and her line, “my teen angst bullshit has a body count.” Yes, this is the darker side of Bourne's repertoire,...
PlusThe choreographer Alexei Ratmansky reflects on the war in Ukraine, the connection between geopolitics and ballet, and joining the house of Balanchine.
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Beneath blue California skies, manicured trees, and the occasional hum of an overhead airplane, Tamara Rojo took the Frost Amphitheater stage at Stanford University to introduce herself as the new artistic director of San Francisco Ballet.
PlusAfter a week of the well-balanced meal that is “Jewels”—the nutritive, potentially tedious, leafy greens of “Emeralds,” the gamy, carnivorous “Rubies,” and the decadent, shiny white mountains of meringue in “Diamonds”—the New York City Ballet continued its 75th Anniversary All-Balanchine Fall Season with rather more dyspeptic fare.
PlusAn “Ajiaco” is a type of soup common to Colombia, Cuba, and Peru that combines a variety of different vegetables, spices, and meats.
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