Flaws in the Short Game

The American Ballet Theatre’s opening bill was not a hole-in-one, but the ideas behind the programming were sound: feature a new work that builds upon company traditions (Gemma Bond’s “La Boutique”), push the dancers in a different style by a hot choreographer (Kyle Abraham’s “Mercurial Son”), and show off the troupe’s prodigious technical chops in a grand manner (Harald Lander’s “Études”). The second bill, Choreographers of the 20^th and 21^st Centuries, was conceptually fantastic—a birdie. George Balanchine’s “Ballet Imperial,” Alexei Ratmansky’s “Neo,” and Twyla Tharp’s “In the Upper Room” are a winning combination with their sharp contrasts of style, costuming, and cast sizes. Unfortunately, the Fall Gala was a total bogey. The 11 awkwardly framed excerpts had no flow, and the night was further marred by low production value: there were curtain issues, odd costumes, and tacky lighting choices.

Performance

American Ballet Theatre: Fall Gala

Place

David H. Koch Theater, Lincoln Center, New York, NY, October 23, 2024

Words

Faye Arthurs

SunMi Park and Calvin Royal III in the pas de deux from “Great Galloping Gottschalk.” Photograph by Emma Zordan

The evening honored the legendary ballerina Natalia Makarova, who was present in the audience—looking glamorous and spry at 83 years old. Her version of “The Kingdom of the Shades” (after Petipa) turns 50 this year, and it kicked off the show. The processional of 32 veiled women snaking down a hill and around the stage in the moonlight is one of the most famous passages in ballet. Done flawlessly, it has the hypnotic, calming effect of box breathing in yoga. The shades take one count to get into arabesque, one count to hold it, one count to get out of it, and one count to advance forward. This happens 39 times. It got big applause at the gala.

I confess that this has never been my favorite iconic corps parade. I much prefer the similarly winding “Swan Lake” Act II entrance. The Swans’ single file march resembles real ducklings, and I especially favor the more emphatic steps (no matter which choreographic iteration). The Shades’ lilting arabesques are tepid, and my perfectionist eye can’t handle the slight inconsistencies in musicality and execution. The slow, steadying tendu into the lifted arabesque position bothers me, and not just because it goes against everything in my Balanchine training. The shades don’t approach the tendu like a proper tendu, they use it like a kickstand, and it seems to make them balance-check in a distracting way. I’m certain that they could all lunge right into a deep arabesque plié and hold it steady for two measly counts, but for whatever reason, this entrance makes everyone wobbly.

ABT Apprentice ABT Studio Company and students of the ABT Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School in the “Pièce d’Occasion.” Photograph by Emma Zordan

The start of the next ballet, “Pièce d’Occasion,” was even more wobbly. After some speeches and a film tribute to Makarova, the curtain did not quite rise on a horde of students from the American Ballet Theater Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School, members of the ABT Studio Company, and four ABT apprentices. The curtain then lowered and tried to rise again several times. The poor children’s lower legs could be seen scrambling around. One kid fell (or maybe sat?) down in the confusion. Conductor Charles Barker stopped the music, the curtain issue was sorted, and the ballet commenced for real. Some of the students said afterwards that they were laughing and that it helped them relax for their performance. I’m glad if it helped them, for they had very difficult things to do (like double en dedans pencil turns into fouettés). Further interruptions occurred when a bold usher strolled up and down the orchestra aisles yelling at people not to take pictures (there were likely lots of parents in attendance). It was a bit of a train wreck from the house.

This student medley was a lot like “Etudes” and not much easier. ABT JKO principal teacher Rubén Martín, apprentice Brady Farrar, and Caridad Martinez shared choreographic duties, using various pieces of music by Georges Bizet. YeonSeo Choi and Kayke Carvalho led the excellent student and pre-professional body, and there was a clear through line from their tasks to the demands made on the principals later in the program. (One has to start practicing partnered pirouette paddling early, I suppose! Chloe Misseldine and Aran Bell, phenomenal dancers, mistimed the finish of one of their extended paddlings later in the “Sylvia Pas de Deux.”) Throughout “Pièce,” I kept thinking about how oddly militant this dance was, as the students executed their challenges in regimented formations to snare drums and brasses. But drumrolls were a recurrent gala theme; I guess I hadn’t noticed before how integral they are to the company’s rep. “Pièce” had a lot going on: à la seconde pirouettes commenced upstage while fouettés were still wrapping up downstage. It was as exciting and overwhelming as a three-ring circus.

That was the last time audience members had to use their peripheral vision, however. Seven duet excerpts followed in quick succession, blending into each other. There was another blip of a group dance as wunderkind Jake Roxander thrillingly led the Mazurka from “Etudes,” then the show concluded with one final pas de deux excerpt. Nothing lasted long enough to establish a real mood, and the questionable lighting design didn’t help. The cyclorama rotated through garish 80s prom colors: purple, teal, fuchsia. There were no sets, and the curtain never dropped again until the end of the show. No set or lighting designers were credited in the playbill, and I can see why.

Chloe Misseldine and Aran Bell in “Sylvia Pas de Deux.” by George Balanchine. Photograph by Emma Zordan

Like the vast difference between a short story and a novel, pas de deux taken from grandiose narrative ballets are not at all like pas de deux clipped from plotless contemporary pieces. Generally, the more abstract pieces fared the best in this format. Twyla Tharp’s “Sinatra Suite,” Lynne Taylor-Corbett’s “Great Galloping Gottschalk,” and Jessica Lang’s “Children’s Songs Dance” are already abstract and set-less, so they at least set their own terms more quickly—even if they seemed unmoored. But the classical bits were completely out to sea. “Manon’s” ardor is always silly out of context, and the cuts from “Raymonda” and the Rose Adagio from “Sleeping Beauty” felt empty. Also, skipping the variations from all the classical pieces and going straight from the pas into the codas felt cheap.

Petipa’s choreography is tailored to the scale of his productions. His simple, repetitive steps are made to sit within distractingly ornate backgrounds, peopled with retinues of royals and villagers. His uncomplicated, square repeats are as much as one can focus on amidst so much filigreed busy-ness. The Rose Adagio was particularly wan without sets, crowds, and costumes. The men’s generic, jewel-toned tunics by Willa Kim screamed gig, and Skylar Brandt looked so lonely without parents and friends and townspeople to charm: little orphan Aurora. It was glaring that this segment was just about her attitude balances, and the four courtiers were effective ballet barres. Brandt nailed the balances, as usual, but several of the night’s pas included similar balances (“Sylvia,” “Don Q,” “Raymonda”), so this excerpt felt like too much filler for a step that was over-represented.

Cassandra Trenary and Herman Cornejo in “Sinatra Suite.” Photograph by Emma Zordan

So many quick, successive duets were a way to get every healthy principal onstage, but that made the show more of a role call than a performance—and it turned the evening into a competition (or a thoroughbred appraisal). So, who managed to stand out the most in this shuffle? Chloe Misseldine and Calvin Royal III had the best lines. Cassandra Trenary and Herman Cornejo were the most musical, and Devon Teuscher was the best actress. But the dancer who made by far the most impact was Makarova. The film about her life and career featured a string of vivid photographs of her in performance. Even in these still shots, her dramatic personality and lush movement qualities were evident—like in how far she leant back with her hand cupped behind her head in Jerome Robbins’s “Other Dances,” and how extra-deep she lunged in “Swan Lake.” I thought that the film and the program could have gone further—and ABT certainly could have danced all of the “Kingdom of the Shades” in her honor—but at least they tried to convey the full scope of Makarova’s amazing career. The gala desperately needed more such attempts.

Faye Arthurs

Faye Arthurs is a former ballet dancer with New York City Ballet. She chronicled her time as a professional dancer in her blog Thoughts from the Paint. She graduated summa cum laude with a B.A. in English from Fordham University. She lives in Brooklyn with her partner and their sons.

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