A real focus of the night is a rare revival of Jerome Robbins’ “Quiet City,” a near-forgotten piece for three men created in the early eighties for New York City Ballet. The piece is tender and lyrical, a world away from Robbins’ punchier, more character-driven ballets from his tenure in New York. Surrounding the trio is a small crowd of younger dancers dressed in black who part to make room for the main action. The three dancers look somewhat angelic in their white leotards. They’re angelic in manner too, heraldic but fragile, floating around the space as if seeking resonance.
To no avail. The angels retreat to spread their gospel elsewhere, having found no response from the onlookers—who simply return back to their initial clump, unchanged and unmoved by what they saw. There’s a distinctively urban darkness to the work, anonymous and perhaps a little cold in the way one is when trying not to engage a street performer during December in Covent Garden. You feel as if Robbins made one final plea of connection, rallying against the “greed is good” Wall Street mentality that was seeping into the ethos of New York. Robbins here shows purity, clarity of line and generous extensions, bodies that glide through the dark expanse. An earnest and emotional little gem of a work that deserves its place in his canon. Kudos in particular to Arthur Wille, a dancer with a gorgeous facility and an eye for subtlety.
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