6 posts tagged “christopher wheeldon”
I don't really have time for this right now, but I thought I'd just dash off this post while it was fresh in my mind.
While running a few errands at lunch, I picked up my copy of the latest New Yorker. I was thumbing through it on the subway platform on my way back and saw that the issue included Joan Acocella's review of the recent Morphoses engagement at City Center, which I began reading. I had made it through a couple of paragraphs in disbelief when I picked my head up long enough to see which train was pulling in on the express track. Wrong one. I turned back to the magazine and noticed that there now was a wet spot on the page that had not been there before. It probably was just a drop of gooey muck from the steam pipe overhead, but maybe it was the ghost of some departed New York dance critic--tears or ectoplasm?
I guess we can take Acocella's presence (ostensibly as a dance critic) in the New Yorker as the naturally corollary to the New York City Ballet's supposedly being in an endless trajectory of decline since its glory days under Balanchine. What else can explain this dumb and fatuous shit in the still prestigious publication? I thought that James Wolcott's blog post regarding Acocella's gushy summer promotional piece on Mark Morris, Joanie Loves Chunky, was a bit over the top, but many of the same elements he eviscerates in that earlier writing are also present in what is allegedly a critical review of Wheeldon's new company.
For example, Acocella's utter abandonment of the responsibilities of being a dance critic. Of Wheeldon's Fools' Paradise, she remarks, "I would like to have been able to figure out what it was other than a gorgeous configuration of well-toned bodies." Um, isn't that like why you were paid for the article and got free tickets--to figure it out?
There are other gems to be gleaned from just about every paragraph, but Acocella's bizarre acknowledgment of Maria Kowroski's maturation as a performer (which she credits solely to Wheeldon's inspiration) is particularly gross: "But as one followed her from season to season there seemed to be a blank that she couldn’t fill in. She was the platonic form, all right, but not the earthly enactment. I thought maybe she wasn’t too bright."
Stop talking about yourself, sweetheart.
Further views of Morphoses / The Wheeldon Company:
On Friday afternoon I went to part of the open house public rehearsal held at City Center. I wasn't sure what to expect, arriving a few minutes before the scheduled 4:00 start time. It turned out that I was just able to walk right in, with tickets for assigned seats being handed out by the house doors. Somehow I got given an extra ticket that had been returned at the door for some reason by a teacher who was escorting a school group, so I ended up, somewhat uncomfortably, in the midst of several high school students and teachers. On the upside, the seat was very close to the stage, which gave a different (though still largely obstructed) perspective.
Wheeldon came out promptly at four and seemed very relaxed and affable. He is a very polished public speaker, though it seemed as if some of the terms he was using (like "marking") may not have been as familiar to most of the audience as he seemed to have assumed (a tendency that he seemed to correct as he went on). I also felt as if I sounded a bit like the bartender played by boxer Frank Moran in The Lady Eve, since I was forced to translate some of Wheeldon's Britishisms for a particularly clueless teacher or parent I was sitting near (though frankly I am much more Franklin Pangborn in spirit).
After introducing the international roster of dancers (mad cheers for local hero Aesha Ash), Chris explained what we were going to see: a working rehearsal of a ballet that was to be performed for the first time during the New York engagement, Mesmerics, to music by Philip Glass. They were going to go over some sections that still needed work, do a run through of the whole piece with stage lighting, and then take questions from the audience.
I stayed for about an hour and watched them work on the last few sections. There's always something interesting to see at a rehearsal. Sometimes (as in the few studio rehearsals I've been lucky enough to attend) a piece that seemed exciting in close quarters, ends up looking like crap when you see it in performance. Although it was instructive to watch the process, the dance that unfolded on the stage did not seem very compelling. Is there a worse cliché at this point than a ballet to Philip Glass music? I found it kind of amusing that when they played the recorded track for a particular section even Wheeldon was momentarily confused as to whether or not it was the right one. Monotonous more than mesmerizing.
To be continued
Looking back at my previous post, I see that two out of the three performances I mentioned were in the afternoon and not the evening. When I began that post, I had intended to include an account of my meanderings in lower Manhattan on Tuesday night, but I ran out of energy and interest. Some other time.
Last night I attended the eagerly anticipated New York premiere of Christopher Wheeldon's new ballet company, Morphoses. I am trying to withhold judgment until I see the other program on Saturday (afternoon, I think), but my first impressions were decidedly mixed. And, since the tickets were a present from someone very nice (who, unfortunately, was even less impressed than I was with the event), I've been going out of my way to try and not be too churlish about the whole thing.
I'm sure, like many others, I went more out of a general desire to support the fledgling company and to see our heroes (the NYCB dancers) in action again after the long summer/fall hiatus rather than from a burning interest in Wheeldon's choreography.
Random thoughts:
Despite its storied past and its ambitious current programming, City Center remains a miserable place to try to actually see dance. I have sat all over the auditorium, but I never have found a truly satisfying seat. The orchestra totally sucks (you feel as if you're in a pit) and can't see the floor of the stage (or the dancers' feet). Upstairs offers a slightly better perspective of the stage, but unless you're in the first row of any of those sections (grand tier, mezzanine, rear mezzanine), even the tiniest person sitting in front of you is going to block a significant portion of your view--and even those front row seats have issues as well. In some ways, the front of the gallery (which they don't usually open for dance events) offers a better vantage point. There was a reason that NYCB was happy to leave, after all. I know City Center has plans to do another renovation that will try to address some of these problems at some point, but the sooner the better!
I can see the appeal and advantages of Wheeldon's relationship with City Center, but at this stage in Morphoses' development, it seems like the wrong venue for this small company, with its apparent objective of offering a more intimate experience for the audience.
They also needed to use a theatre that can accommodate a full orchestra.
Having live music was an enormous plus obviously, but oh, the music they wasted it on!
The rep:
There Where She Loved (Chopin/Weill): An earlier work (2000?). The combination of those two composers made me squirm even before I saw it. This was one of those "curate's egg" ballets, parts of it were OK. Essentially, the Chopin parts invoked Robbins' Chopin ballets (mainly Dances at a Gathering) and took some stuff from Balanchine and other choreographers as well. The pas de deux with Sterling Hyltin and Gonzalo Garcia (who I had thought in the publicity photographs looked a bit like Wheeldon, but proved to have very a different movement quality as a dancer) was probably the best section of the piece. The Weill parts used some of my favorite songs from Teresa Stratas' first Weill recording, but both this singer's rendering of them and the dances themselves were quite dull (though I had the most difficulty seeing these, as they seemed to involve the most floor work). The men were all wearing knockoffs of Alan Cumming's emcee outfit from Cabaret. How Decadent!
Then came an intermission, which was followed by a series of three pas de deux (at this program, two by Wheeldon and one by William Forsythe). Each dance was preceded by a short rehearsal video put together by the Ballet Boyz ("the best part of the program," my companion later commented), followed by a projection on a scrim with the ballet's title. The net effect was like being at a fashion show, product launch, or something of that ilk, "the Morphoses Collection." Sadly, the live performance did nothing to amplify the video. Also, it might have been nice to have program notes. Were most of these pieces excerpts from longer works or stand alone pas de deux?
Tryst: This might have been more interesting to watch if it had been surrounded by more varied or substantial pieces. Bussell, whom I have rarely had the opportunity to see, appeared to be in great form.
Slingerland: WTF does the title refer to? Slingerland drums? I was sort of expecting the music to be percussion. Forsythe, whatever you may think of his work, does at least recognizably have a style. This did not seem to be one of his more successful efforts.
Prokofiev Pas de Deux: "Innovative" title, eh? This piece had just about as much character as its says-it-all name. To my tin ear, the music of this more recent Wheeldon work had echoes of the balcony scene music from R & J (in another key?), as did the feel of some of the choreography (homage to MacMillan?). I was pleased to see when I looked it up this morning, that the 2nd Violin Concerto was composed at around the same time as that ballet (though that statement grossly oversimplifies Prokofiev's very complicated life).
Dance of the Hours: I sat through most of La Gioconda at the Met last year just to see this ballet (I had a choice of a free tickets to an opera) and wasn't particularly impressed at the time. Sans the set (and with a smaller corps de ballet?) it looked even skimpier. Several people laughed at the music, though I think the ballet was intended to be taken straight (and I doubt those striplings even knew from Fantasia). It probably was danced better than it had been at the Met, but, again, what a waste of the the phenomenal talents of the current title holder of America's Most Exciting Ballerina.
Another intermission ensued. Followed by Fools' Paradise (I think that's correct title, though I could swear the projection on the scrim omitted any apostrophe). On a side note, I was unwittingly carrying around a waterlogged copy of Eats, Shoots & Leaves and may have had apostrophes on the brain. A longer ballet, which utilized more dancers, Fools' Paradise still had a sameness and predictability about it (I knew from experience that the falling leaves from the first "scene"-- if that's what they were--would have to make a return appearance before the damn thing finally would be over). Indeed, contemplating the appropriate use of apostrophes is a whole lot more compelling and fun than this doodle turned out to be. Maria Kowroski was the one standout, but why, I don't know.
The inevitable standing ovation followed the performance. But how many people really enjoyed themselves, I wonder? It seemed as if quite a few of the audience left during the second intermission (to find better seats, rush backstage, catch the last train--this program was also too loooong--who knows?). Among those who disappeared were former NYCB principal Judith Fugate and her husband Medhi Bahiri, who together run a company whose name has changed frequently over the years, but which is currently known as BalletNY. Ironically, its goals are not dissimilar from those of Morphoses. Although they obviously lack the robust sponsorship and attendant hype that the Wheeldon enterprise enjoys, is the level of talent involved really all that different? Maybe Wheeldon will let them add one of his pieces to their repertory.
Random celebrity sightings:
Fran Lebowitz on my way to dinner. Does that even count?
Caught an early showing of La Vie en Rose, the new French biopic of Edith Piaf. Impressive performance by Marion Cotillard as Piaf, but the film itself is disjointed, repetitive, predictable, and curiously uninvolving for the most part. She sings, she cries, she drinks, she shoots up, she falls down... It doesn't present us with anything more than: wasn't she a survivor, folks? And it doesn't offer enough of Piaf's music (almost all of the numbers are intercut with other scenes or in some other way truncated) for a sense of the artist to emerge.
My internal jury is still out on Wheeldon's Nightingale and the Rose. Another personal triumph for Wendy Whelan. I liked her solo at the beginning and some of the stuff for the white and yellow roses was interesting. I think I may have been adversely affected by some gossip dished to me a few nights before that Wheeldon didn't like Sheng's music and just threw this together to fulfill his obligations. Given the source, I'm not sure if I completely believe that story or not (I wish people wouldn't tell me these things or that gossip exerted such influence over me), but I didn't care for the music. I certainly did not feel as if the music evoked the mood or aesthetic of the Wilde tale very well and I don't like the little changes Wheeldon has made to the story. I will try to give it another go this season. I am willing to see that program again, but more for one last glimpse of Kyra Nichols in Davidsbündlertänze, than for Nightingale.
Spent some time at the Noguchi Museum yesterday (more in watching the
documentary video) than looking at the sculptures. I wonder what,
if anything, they are planning for the Kirstein Centennial. Come
to think of it, Orpheus would have made a better fit on that program than Jeu de Cartes. The garden at the museum was very serene. I did not see any roses.
My horoscope for the day made special note of my extreme fatigue (quite true) and advised, that if I "must work" to "concentrate on routine tasks requiring very little conscious effort." I've been trying to follow that prescription and spent the first part of the morning sorting through a very disorganized batch of photographs. Some success, but I think I need a breather from even that mundane task. Can blogging "require very little conscious effort"? We'll see.
Went to the ballet yet again last night. I was expecting to see what had been widely rumored to be Miranda Weese's final appearance with the company at the State Theater, in, strangely enough, the program opener, Christopher Wheeldon's Klavier. So it was kind of puzzling when the curtain fell and Weese received no special acknowledgment for her performance--no bouquet, no curtain call, nothing. It was only later that I found out that the casting had been changed for Saturday evening and Weese is now scheduled to appear in that evening's closing piece, Evenfall (another Wheeldon work). Whatever the motivation, it's good that she will get an opportunity to dance with the company once more, and, that, presumably, now more fuss will be made over the occasion (and it was very classy of Jenifer Ringer to give up her spot that evening). I'll be curious to see if NYCB promotes this "event" at all. The cynic in me says, "yes," as it was a very empty house last night.
I left after Klavier, having enjoyed it a great deal more than I had over the weekend, which was surprising, because I was beginning to feel as if I wanted to write Wheeldon off after failing to be impressed by a re-viewing of Carousel: A Dance the previous evening. Possibly it was because I was able to hone in more on the music, instead of being focused on the stage. Undoubtedly as well a great deal of it may have had to do with my being in a thoroughly crap mood on Wednesday, but feeling more lighthearted last night (owing to some good conversation and a late jolt of espresso). But more about that and more about Weese some other time. I already had plans to go on Saturday night and I will attempt to do a proper account of that program and some sort of season wrap-up eventually.
Last night I attended a screening of a documentary about Serge Lifar, the 20th century dancer, choreographer (or as he seems to have preferred, choréauteur), and influential ballet master of the Paris Opera and I came away realizing that I knew even less about Lifar than I imagined I did.
Out of pure ignorance, I'd pretty much filed him away in the back of my mind as something of a lightweight. But on a little further reading this morning, it's clear that Lifar's accomplishments were pretty impressive and that he created a substantial body of work. In a cursory search of the web, I came across a recent article by Claire Paolacci in the Journal of the Oxford University History Society (unlikely source!) which I read over lunch (quickly defeating my recent resolve to drink less coffee this year, but at least it was an excellent cup of coffee). In her account of Lifar's activities during World War II, she makes a compelling argument that Lifar's stance was far more patriotic than generally has been portrayed. But is she being too active an apologist here? In one of her notes, she mentions that earlier "Lifar had refused Stalin's offer to become director of dance for the USSR, maintaining that art should be totally independent from politics." But is Lifar's ideal possible? Certainly an interesting thought to kick around in light of the current Simone Clark controversy. I'm inspired to read more about Lifar; I want to check out his autobiography, which is one work available in English translation.
Also, official word came out today, that Ballet's Great White Hope, Christopher Wheeldon, was forming his own company, Morphoses. It will be interesting to see how that plays out, but more power to him I say. Will it be a liberating or humbling adventure, I wonder? He's led a relatively sheltered and rarefied existence so far. While this new venture is hardly a commercial one, it seems that there will be much less of a safety net available to him than in working with the large, well-established companies with which he has been accustomed to working. I like the sentiments he expressed about empowering dancers in the New York Times article, but is he just being naive? It's certainly another bold(ish) act in a series of events that underscores how badly New York City Ballet is in need of some major reform.