Intensio—Daniil Simkin and Friends

Alexandre Hammoudi and Isabella Boylston in Islands of Memories. Photo: Paula Lobo

The most recent ballet vanity project, Intensio (produced by the Joyce Theater), is led by ABT principal Daniil Simkin, who is joined by some talented pals from ABT and Céline Cassone of Les Ballets Jazz de Montreal. While watching these fantastic art-letes provides many pleasures, the evening also raises questions. Are these already accomplished stars drawing resources—money, publicity, presenters—away from independent choreographers? If those indie artists are not able to attract donor and foundation support like the top ballet stars, how is their work produced—does it mean life or death? 

Socio-artistic issues aside, Simkin does have an unusual story, which is told cursorily in a humorous autobiographical piece with "balletography" by Ekman titled Simkin and the Stage (2015). Born in Siberia and raised in Germany, Simkin was taught ballet at home by his mother; his father designs sets including for Intensio's big finale, Islands of Memories. Throughout the program, we absorb Simkin's brilliance and rough edges, a diamond still in the process of being polished. 


At times his brio blankets his weaknesses; charm goes a long way. In front of a projected film of Simkin either repeatedly pirouetting, or training as an adorable child, the real Daniil performs a kind of highlight reel of his most eye-catching moves, such as leaps and tours in the air. His recorded voice tells us his story, and he humorously mimes nuggets like, "I wanted to be a dentist." Preceding this work is a hilarious film (that has been posted online for awhile) of Simkin going about his daily routine on the streets of New York, dressed in white tights and princely tunic and using only ballet vocabulary.

Daniil Simkin and Céline Cassone. Photo: Yi-Chun Wu

These are the most personal works on an otherwise broader slate. Simkin appears in Jorma Elo's Nocturne/Etude/Prelude, a trio with Isabella Boylston and James Whiteside, whose brown hair is now light blue (presumably to age him, but it just looks like cotton candy). Is he an older version of the identically dressed Simkin, his father, or just another man? The dance is a showcase for Boylston, chic in a one-shouldered white dress with a circle skirt (costumes coordinated by Maile Okamura). While the larger men seem huge in the modest-sized Joyce stage, the women—Boylston in particular—appear more vivid, limbs longer than at their normal venues, the Met and Koch. Elo adds dramatic touches, such as Whiteside dropping Boylston into a split and lifting her quickly, and Simkin flexing his hands, palm meat pressed together as he pirouettes.

Gregory Dolbashian's Welcome a Stranger (2015) is more edgy, announced immediately by ambient fog and looped percussion, which cedes to a guitar. Céline Cassone (who set the punk tone with her flame-red hair), Blaine Hoven, Alex Hammoudi, Calvin Royal, and Cassandra Trenary gather, lift one dancer up and over another ("gang chaos partnering," in my notes), disperse, and exit; the movement has an urgency and desperation. Royal shines in a brief solo. His long arms sweep like wings, his phrasing plushly muscular. Hoven and Cassone experiment with one another's weight, actions and reactions. 

Islands of Memories is choreographed by Annabelle Lopez Ochoa to a "recomposition" of Vivaldi's Four Seasons by Max Richter. Dmitrij Simkin designed the nifty set: canted mirror panels show us the stage from above, onto which projected patterns outline and react to the dancers' movements. Ochoa's movement is fluent, elegant, and the dancers look happy doing it. They pair off, springing on and offstage like gazelles. Trenary shows ferocity, and looks fantastic paired with Royal. A woman's pointed toe becomes a protractor pencil tracing a circle around her body, being spun by her partner. Boylston displays her high arches in deep plies. In the group finale, Simkin is one of the gang—the slender kid who can match his mates' spins and jumps—but also the guy who brought the game ball. 

ABT premieres Ratmansky's The Tempest

Marcelo Gomes holding Daniil Simkin in The Tempest. Photo: Marty Sohl

Another major story ballet makes its New York premiere, the third in quick succession—this time, Alex Ratmansky's The Tempest for ABT, this fall at the spacious Koch Theater. The choreographer seems equally comfortable in both plotless and story forms, and here takes on the latter, which is framed in the program as "a fragmented narrative as well as a meditation on some of the themes of Shakespeare's play." The 40-minute ballet is set to selections from Sibelius' sometimes spare, often enchanting music from 1925-26, played live in the pit, with assists from the New York Choral Society and mezzo Shirin Eskandadi. 

The ballet is ideal for lead-casting many of ABT's charismatic men (and one! woman): Gomes as the conflicted Prospero, Herman Cornejo as Caliban, Daniil Simkin as the flighty Ariel, and Sarah Lane (Prospero's daughter) and Joseph Gorak as the young lovers. The latter three have the richest dance passages. In the prologue, Gomes partners Simkin, who is spun so quickly that his legs fly out parallel to the ground; in one scene, he enters with a chain of very high jetés with his legs at a narrow angle, another clever solution by Ratmansky to show off Simkin's buoyancy without having him eat up the stage. We are familiar with Lane's delicacy and precision; Gorak, a more recent, burgeoning revelation, is astonishingly crisp in line and attack, and fills out each movement impressively. They ballotté (a sort of skip and foot brush) in a circle to a particularly sweet musical passage. When Prospero tries to separate them, the three weave through an intense, intricate, curlicue section.

… and Joseph Gorak holds Sarah Lane. Photo: Marty Sohl

Gomes' physical and dramatic power is muffled under a scraggly wig and a drab everyman outfit of a fraying, unbuttoned shirt and khaki clamdiggers. But the predominantly slow, grave movements he is given (often to a harp theme) feel subtly revolutionary: they come across as a language of their own, familiar ballet shapes imbued with meaning but not, per se, descriptive. He repeats a pirouette and a slow leg extension into an arabesque, deepening it to its zenith; relevés in basic positions are held for long moments; he inflates his arms into luminous curves. All of these moves convey control and stability in the face of a shipwreck and power-grabbing by his brother (Sascha Radetsky). Certainly this has been done in previous ballets, but it feels different here; it helps that Gomes has until now typically danced the virile princely role, and not a solemn, more elderly role. 

Santo Loquasto's ornate sets and costumes lend a cursory Disney theme park feel. A fragment of the wrecked ship's prow is the primary set piece, but its zig zag stairs prove awkward for the dancers to navigate gracefully. Caliban's cave is an odd pile of dark stuff that is wheeled around. Four trees reverse to show some, um… sea critters? I'm really not sure, and it didn't help that one nearly tipped over. A set of horizontal silken, wash-painted drops, and a glittery black one lower down, shift vertically to evoke a stormy sky or an angry sea. There is a lot going on, and the dancers do not look all that comfortable. It's so easy to second guess, but a simplified design approach might have benefited this jam-packed production.

Daniil Simkin, in white unitard and a flame-like wig, standing precariously atop the all-purpose edifice, gets to wave large, fluttering red sails like demonic wings. He fares much better than Cornejo, scruffy and maned, keeping low to the ground like the shunned creature that he is. (He would fit easily into the role of Ariel, which would show off his gifts; maybe next time around.) The two most comedically gifted company members, Julio Bragado-Young and Craig Salstein, play amusing servants, freed from decorum. The corps members, elaborately costumed in blue, form and reform as water elements, effectively swirling and arcing. 

Filling out the program: 

• Balanchine's Theme and Variations, to Tchaikovsky, led by Polina Semionova and Cory Stearns.
• From 1947, a prime example of Mr. B's classical oeuvre, with the infectious musicality of its opening section
• New warm-hued costumes by Zack Brown in yellows and apricots
• Semionova's archetypal ballerina physique—very long limbs and high-arched feet—serve the line brilliantly
• Stearns could use more polish and crispness in this very technical ballet, as well as more accentuated rhythm in his turns

• Stanton Welch's Clear (2001) to Bach
• Sascha Radetsky, brandishing his tattooed torso, finds an ideal role in the sharp, rhythmic opening 
• The six additional men showed the depth of ABT's soloists and corps
• Paloma Herrera, the sole woman, is always fun to watch in contemporary stuff 
• This fun ballet is an example of why Welch drew many commissions around then

The season runs through this week with works by Tharp, Limon, Morris, Ratmansky, and more.

Late Model Corsaire

The Corsaire. Photo: Gene Schiavone

Check out this photo of the new pseudonymous ship in ABT's new production of Le Corsaire. Quite a bit more impressive and true to scale than the old version, which looked more like a toy boat than a pirate ship.

Some other notes about the new production which premiered in 2011 at Teatro Colon, Argentina, staged by Anna-Marie Holmes (as was the company's previous version).

Production:

• Sets by Christian Prego make good use of the capaciousness of the Met. In the bazaar, rugs and rickety wooden bridges hang overhead. The grotto scene is from a viewpoint inside the cave looking at the corsaire on the ocean. And the huge room where the final scenes take place is decorated with huge hanging lanterns. 
• The palette has shifted from pastels toward darker gemstone and metallic hues. Gone are the famous turquoise harem pants for Ali, now purple, which I have to admit is a bit disorienting. Medora's tutu is gold, her casual gown pale blue and beaded. Conrad still basically wears all white, for how else would we know he's the big guy?
• The dream sequence, an endless set of variations by women and children bearing floral props, is slightly less cloying, color-wise. And Medora now simply steps into the middle of a floral hoop, rather than having to open a gate of a strange knee-high pen. It's still fairly interminable, coming just before the finale.
• This production is not a revolutionary departure from ABT's prior production, but its more tasteful palette and new sets are a welcome change.

Cast notes:

• Herman Cornejo, now 32, has developed into a very good romantic lead. He's always exuded an inner complexity and sensuality to add to his great naturalistic bravura technique. His arcing leaps and on-point turns appear effortless. But in this age of a so-called "arms race" in ballet (or more accurately, arms and legs race), his highest leaps look merely very good. 
• Ivan Vasiliev danced Ali with the effortful humility required of a principal male at the top of his form wearing sparkly purple harem pants and a feathered headband. (He and Cornejo exchanged roles in another cast.)
• Daniil Simkin is maturing in good ways, filling out and shedding some of his puppiness for yet more confidence. 
• Both he and Vasiliev possess the kind of ballon that arrests movements at their apex. Simkin floats, Vasiliev gets a puff of energy and is more human about descending, but all this extra air time lets them both do one extra, gasp-inducing move per jump.
• Xiomara Reyes' gifts include lightness, quickness, and a sweet expression. 
• It would be interesting to see Sarah Lane, who danced Gulnare exquisitely, in the lead role; unfortunately I thought this many times during the ballet
• Arron Scott danced Birbanto with thrilling verve and precision