Innovations Past and Present

The American Ballet Theater’s Fall Season opened at the Koch Theater with a program called “Innovation Past and Present,” which featured two world premieres and a company staple. The first debut was by former ABT dancer Gemma Bond, the second was by in-demand choreographer Kyle Abraham, founder and artistic director of A.I.M by Kyle Abraham. Bond’s geometric updating of a Ballets Russes narrative classic was worlds away from Abraham’s cold electronica. And the closer was Harald Lander’s classroom behemoth “Études,” which added yet more styles of ballet to the night. This wasn’t my favorite trio of works, but it was an impressively varied bill. Unusually, the whole was more satisfying than the parts.

Performance

American Ballet Theatre: “La Boutique” by Gemma Bond / “Mercurial Son” by Kyle Abraham / “Études” by Harald Lander

Place

David H. Koch Theater, Lincoln Center, New York, NY, October 16, 2024

Words

Faye Arthurs

Ingrid Thoms and Sierra Armstrong in “Mercurial Son” by Kyle Abraham. Photograph by Emma Zordan

Bond’s “La Boutique” very much encapsulated the idea of “innovation past and present”—leaning a little harder into the past part. Bond abstracted the short story ballet “La Boutique Fantasque” (The Magic Toyshop), a 1919 Diaghilev production that combined the efforts of artist André Derain, choreographer Léonide Massine, and composers Ottorino Respighi and Gioachino Rossini. Massine set a version for ABT in 1942 starring Antony Tudor, Nora Kaye, and Jerome Robbins. “La Boutique” nodded to all that ancient history (“Boutique Fantasque” is not danced much nowadays) with its pancake tutus and plentiful harlequin imagery. A recurrent theme of jerky arms en bas suggested dolls or a grandfather clock pendulum. Skylar Brandt and Carlos Gonzalez were like court jesters with their impish grins and technical brio. Cory Stearns’s turned in passés and shrugging, pizza-platter port de bras were extra Petrouchka.

But “La Boutique” wore these accents lightly, humorously. And the ballet referenced other ABT classics too. In the opening passage, three principal couples performed sharp tendus in exaggerated croisée and effacé positions—a winking reworking of Balanchine’s “Theme and Variations.” Similarly, Jean-Marc Puissant’s tutus and tunics were classical in shape, yet they projected Modern Art due to their ornamentation: Mondrian-esque rectangles in red, black, green, and purple. The women wore tiaras, but they were only bejeweled on the back. The fronts of the crowns were matte black. Everything felt playfully, yet tastefully, skewed.

American Ballet Theatre in Gemma Bond’s “La Boutique.” Photograph by Emma Zordan

Kyle Abraham’s “Mercurial Son” premiered next. It started out strong: to a buzzing noise, Andrew Robare flit around a wing with a curlicue of furious chassés en tournant. His shimmering, tiered, magenta dress resembled gossamer insect wings or a glowing neon light in this dervish pass. Just like the droning hum in the score, the choreographic effect was reverberant and gnat-like. Robare was both bug and bug zapper; it was very cool. But as “Mercurial” progressed, there were fewer moments where the steps met the costumes and the score and elevated all three.

“Mercurial” began to feel like a grim take on a Forsythe ballet, with its dark lighting, skimpy costumes with a few gender-bending accents (by Karen Young), and especially its electronic music. Grischa Lichtenberger’s clanging score evoked composer Thom Willems, Forsythe’s longtime collaborator. But where Forsythe is relentlessly hard-hitting to Willems’s metallic soundscapes, Abraham seemed to mostly focus on the impersonal nature of Lichtenberger’s hospital blips, crickets, and windy swooshes. (He has elucidated the texture of less “musical” pieces better in the past, as in his moody solo “Ash.”) Forsythe’s ferocity is also attached to a sort of conquering sexiness: as his dancers whack away at every beep and chime, they appear to have an extreme-movement runner’s high. But save for Robare, who was on fire, the ABT dancers read as curiously cold while they tore through space in “Mercurial.” They projected anhedonia over voracious euphoria.

Abraham assembled a terrific cast of seven, but for some reason Robare was the only one who really came alive—though Joseph Markey made up ground in his final solo. The magnificent principals Cassandra Trenary and Catherine Hurlin danced fiercely and brilliantly, but their solos felt hollow. It was interesting how both confronted a spotlight in an empty corner and put themselves in it for a moment, facing back. This hinted at a divide between interiority and performativity, but that theme was not developed further. And Abraham has teased it out better before (in “Our Indigo: If We Were a Love Song,” for example).

Catherine Hurlin and Joseph Markey in “Mercurial Son” by Kyle Abraham. Photograph by Emma Zordan

Abraham likes a sassy duet, whether male or female, and Sierra Armstrong and Ingrid Thoms filled that slot in “Mercurial.” But they were given such basic, repetitive steps that I found myself bored every time they entered. (They proved they could handle more in “Etudes.”) When they high fived each other after a simple sequence it fell flat because it felt unearned. Normally, Abraham’s cheeky, pedestrian gestures are a slam dunk.

I am a huge Kyle Abraham fan, and erenow I hadn’t seen him miss. At this point, I didn’t think he could miss—he’s always pulling off such improbable highwire acts. (He made Ravel’s cheesy, ubiquitous “Bolero” into a slick and riveting examination of race, for chrissake!) But “Mercurial” just didn’t do much for me. It was not a bad ballet. I wouldn’t avoid it. In fact, I’d like to see it with another cast. But when it comes to Abraham, I am used to having my mind blown: like when he connected dandyism and rap star braggadocio through brisés volés and à la seconde turns in “The Runaway.”

“Mercurial Son” contained many of Abraham’s trademark moves: the brisés, the stepovers, the tendu poses. When Joesph Markey cycled through a rave arm ripple to the Swan Lake fold to a slow-motion run it was classic Abraham—a wonderful juxtaposition of different dance styles and worlds. But through most of “Mercurial,” the temps de la cuisses read as plain old ballet steps. I didn’t sense infinite layers of the onion to peel back. Unfortunately, Abraham has set the bar rather high for himself, and “Mercurial” was more face-value than his other works. To go back to the program title: it recycled his past innovations, and it didn’t feel very present. To namecheck a superior work, it didn’t seem like Abraham was in his feelings.

Jake Roxander, Catherine Hurlin, and Isaac Hernández in “Études” by Harald Lander. Photograph by Emma Zordan

There aren’t many feelings in “Études” either. From the endless, headless tendus at the barre, to the slow grand plié in center in pointe shoes, to the bent-leg fouettés and the possibility of nine consecutive double tours (which weren’t on the menu on opening night), grit, determination, and air-biting are the predominant modes. And yet, Catherine Hurlin managed to compellingly humanize the dry “Sylphide” knockoff sections even as she knocked the ridiculously hard grand allegro and pirouette passages out of the park. And this after her Abraham marathon—what an insanely difficult show! She wasn’t the only one who needed to eat their Wheaties: Robare, Park, Markey, and Carlos Gonzalez all had difficult double headers. (And Brandt danced the pas de trois in “Ballet Imperial” into the stompers in “In the Upper Room” at the kiddie matinee on Sunday—holy hell!) ABT is overbooking personnel as badly as City Ballet these days, let’s hope everyone can stay healthy. But dancerly concern is making me digress . . .

Like most trick-based works, “Études” is clunky. But unlike most trick-based works, it is surprisingly slow-going for all its pyrotechnics. The barre work bits are neat for a minute (and the ABT corps has beautiful lines) but they don’t go anywhere. Every section of “Études” drags by the end, and some drag at the beginning. But the finesse and charm of leads Hurlin, Isaac Hernandez, and Jake Roxander (who made the mazurka section feel like a frat party) steered this bulky ship into harbor. Oddly enough, I thought of both “Theme and Variations” and Forsythe again. Balanchine turned challenging classroom steps into true art in “Theme,” which was choreographed in 1947, one year before “Études.” And Forsythe’s recent Barre Project series is well-paced and continuously inventive. Ironically, this triple bill mostly made me appreciate other innovations past and present, but I certainly admired the hardworking dancers’ tremendous range on this night.

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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