For the Muses

While the ghosts of, among others, Judy Garland, Jack Benny and the cast of “All in the Family” might be haunting Television City’s soundstage 33 in Los Angeles, the dancers of American Contemporary Ballet (ACB), took metaphoric flight on Thursday when they performed the world premiere of, “The Euterpides.” Running through June 28, the work, commissioned by ACB director and choreographer Lincoln Jones, featured Alma Deutscher’s gorgeous score, (her first ballet), and was performed live by 17 musicians.

Performance

American Contemporary Ballet:“The Euterpides” by Lincoln Jones

Place

Television City, Los Angeles, California, June 5-28, 2025

Words

Victoria Looseleaf

Kristin Steckmann in “The Euterpides” by Lincoln Jones. Photograph by Anastasia Petukhova

And for those who may not have heard of Vienna-based Deutscher, who flew in from the Austrian capital to conduct the first two performances, she turned—gasp—a mere 20 in February! Having been described by maestro Zubin Mehta as, “One of the great musical talents of today,” the former prodigy, who is also a violinist and pianist and was awarded the European Culture Prize at the Vienna State Opera in 2019, proved a perfect match for Jones’ vision.

At 20 minutes, the ballet has Jones reimagining Euterpe, the Greek muse of music, as having daughters, their mythical names conjured by the choreographer. Portrayed by five dancers, Victoria Manning (Lyra, arpeggio), Kristin Steckmann (Anesis, easing), Madeline Houk (Pneumē, breath) Quincey Smith (Staktē, dripping) and Annette Cherkasov (Hemiola, a temporary metric shift), there is also The Mortal, Matē Szentes, who falls in love with the goddesses and, according to the program notes, will “carry their gifts into the world.”

And what gifts they are: Romantic with a capital ‘R,’ the dance—and music—are decidedly throwbacks to a simpler time, but ones much needed today.

The opening waltz theme (the musicians and maestra Deutscher were situated behind the audience; the sound nevertheless splendid), featured the quintet in fine form, bringing to this reviewer’s mind a gallery of Degas ballerinas come to life: Preening and deploying canonic steps, they also tossed off jetés with ease.

Madeline Houk and Mate Szentes in “The Euterpides” by Lincoln Jones. Photograph by Anastasia Petukhova

Adorned in Jones’ and Emma Beeman’s costumes, simple but elegant tutus with corseted tops, the gals were as graceful as the score, which flowed effortlessly into the Variations’ section, as Brendan White’s piano solo heralded the entrance of Manning. Her deep pliés and elongated arms were reminiscent of Plisetskaya’s “Dying Swan,” as this was beauty personified, with each dancer also embodying Deutscher’s languid phrases to the hilt.

This would have done Euterpe proud, especially in the score’s pacing: Moving from adagio-like to allegro, the dancers brought to life Balanchine’s famous quote: “See the music, hear the dance,” as Smith tossed off a few entrechats, while Houk, Steckmann and Cherkasov entered leaping.

The work then reached new heights with the arrival of Szentes, whose cavalier presence and stunning line, coupled with his pristine partnering, was everything one could wish for in a ballet. His pas de deux with Houk felt akin to, “The Rose Adagio,” where reverence is not only seen, but also felt, as the simple act of turning becomes a monumental gesture, and flow is the order of the day.

Deep arabesques were accompanied by a delightfully vibrant pizzicato led by concertmaster Veronika Manchur, while Martha Carter’s simple but effective lighting added to the wistful atmosphere of this seemingly bygone age, one reminiscent of erstwhile balls, of Anna Karenina dancing with Vronsky, but sans the tragic ending.

The work concluded with “Allegro and Apotheosis,” a series of feel-good, jubilant moves anchored by Szentes that was music-box perfection. In other words, this was an “aMuse-bouche,” but, instead of small bites, the Jones-Deutscher work was infinitely grander.

Annette Cherkasov in “Serenade” by George Balanchine. Photograph by Anastasia Petukhova

The polymath then led the ensemble in the overture to her opera, “Cinderella” (2015), before the company performed Balanchine’s sublime masterpiece, “Serenade.” (His students gave the initial performance on the grounds of Felix Warburg’s White Plains, N.Y. estate in 1934, and was his first work choreographed in America).

An ACB premiere, it was staged by répétiteur Zippora Karz, with Barbara Karinska’s bespoke costumes having been constructed in her “original style” - a solid piece of tulle sewn directly to the leotard rather than using thick elastic waistbands. Making the classic dance even more gobsmackingly gorgeous, the long, flowing skirts boosted the work’s dreamlike quality, as did Carter’s striking, ice-blue lighting.

And from the work’s opening, with 17 ballerinas standing in rows, their arms raised skywards, their wrists flexed as if to capture the moon’s glow on a pristine night, the tableau, which has always been indelible, continues to be one of dance’s most resonant images.

Balanchine, who also made use of moves from real life, including unanticipated rehearsal moments, set the dance to Tchaikovsky’s transcendent, “Serenade for Strings,” further cementing the fusion of sight and sound, and, in the process, generating deep wells of emotion for the viewer. It is Mr. B’s genius, then, for theatrical imagery, paired brilliantly with the music, that magic reigns.

The female corps was enthusiastic and fleet of foot, while principals, among them, Houk, Kate Huntington and Cherkasov, elevated the simple act of creating patterns that, when repeated, featured ingenious variations. And while themes of darkness, fate and death are much too pervasive today, this dance could also be seen as a work about loss, a poetic vision of yearning, but one teeming with the beauty found in bodies that, through 35-minutes of pure movement, also teemed with lunges, legs scissoring in lifts, and an impassioned waltz.

Female-driven, and with no clear storyline—save for the one imposed on the ballet by the viewer—the addition of men, in this case, Szentes and Joshua Brown, nevertheless ups the ethereal ante; pure pleasure bordering on spirituality.

In the final scene, with two parallel lines of women bourréeing in place and repeating the upraised arms image, it’s no wonder that “Serenade” is Balanchine’s most performed work. And pairing it with the “The Euterpides” with Deutscher’s ravishing score (more, please!), signaled a new high for Jones and his troupe: Here was art as the highest form of hope.

Victoria Looseleaf

journalist who covers music and dance festivals around the world. Among the many publications she has contributed to are the Los Angeles Times, the New York Times, Dance Magazine and KCET’s Artbound. In addition, she taught dance history at USC and Santa Monica College. Looseleaf’s novella-in-verse, Isn't It Rich? is available from Amazon, and and her latest book, Russ & Iggy’s Art Alphabet with illustrations by JT Steiny, was recently published by Red Sky Presents. Looseleaf can be reached through X, Facebook, Instagram and Linked In, as well as at her online arts magazine ArtNowLA.

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