It's all about the people

Alex Hammoudi and Devon Teuscher in Swan Lake. Photo: Gene Schiavone

I've compared ballet to baseball before. This time, it’s about how the basic framework, or vehicle, remains fairly constant—nine innings played in a proscribed area; a three-act romantic ballet—but what makes a game or a dance interesting are the ever-changing personalities passing through. (I'll admit it: baseball is fundamentally boring without the varied characters at work.) They all bring strengths and weaknesses; it’s this essential humanity that gives the proceedings drama and makes it palatable to watch the same format repeatedly.

The revolving cast at ABT this season suddenly feels homegrown again, after years of importing guest artists from around the world to pop in for an R&J or two. And with the recent departure of two Russian ballerinas who represent opposite ends of the spectrum—Diana Vishneva, a fiery, precise mover, and Veronika Part, statuesque and lush—it would seem that an era is ending. Not a decade ago, dancers from Spain and Latin and South America dominated the ranks, such as Carreño, the Corellas, the Cornejos, Gomes, and more, alongside the Russian contingent (add to the above Beloserkovsky and Dvorovenko, who since her ABT retirement has notably distinguished herself as an actor in The Americans).

The season-end promotions were just announced, and all four named have risen through ABT’s ranks, in the wake of last season’s promotions of Stella Abrera and Misty Copeland, among others. This year, new principals are Christine Shevchenko (Ukrainian, but mostly raised in the US); Devon Teuscher, who already seems to have an rich inner life to convey along her interpretations; and Sarah Lane, who has largely toiled as a soloist for nine years, with a brief celebrity turn as Natalie Portman’s body double in the movie The Black Swan. Promoted from corps member to soloist is Calvin Royal III, who since 2011 has frequently bobbed to the surface in featured roles and who seems to be on a sure-fire path to prince-dom, assuming some other company doesn’t lure him away. (Case: at NYCB, principal Ana Sofia Scheller, little seen in recent seasons, recently moved to San Francisco Ballet where, presumably, she will get more roles.)

The three women promoted have put in solid principal work already. Teuscher was luminous and deeply empathetic in Swan Lake, Lane sparkled in the premiere of Ratmansky's 

Whipped Cream paired with Simkin, and I heard she was fantastic as Giselle. Shevchenko subbed capably for Gillian Murphy and Part as the female lead in Le Corsaire, doing overtime with four performances. So while these promotions are not a given, it does seem more a formality in the wake of slots opening up with retirements.

Calvin Royal III and Luciana Paris in Don Quixote. Photo: Rosalie O'Connor

Other notable season performances and higher visibility dancers include soloist Cassandra Trenary, who seemed to have prominent roles in nearly everything (e.g., The Golden Cockerel, Onegin, and Aftereffect), besides flashing her social dance chops at Midsummer Night Swing; soloist Blaine Hoven, in Whipped Cream and Mozartiana; corps member Catherine Hurlin, whom we recall as little Clara in The Nutcracker a few years back, with growing poise and technique. Jeffrey Cirio danced often; notably in Don Quixote with Misty Copeland, where alongside Calvin Royal III as Espada, it dawned on me that the top three roles were filled by non whites. Stella Abrera had a grand season, seemingly flourishing as a principal after seasons of injury and recovery; she sparkled as Princess Tea in Whipped Cream, and was a heart-wrenching Giselle on the anniversary of Gomes’ 20th anniversary with ABT.

Joseph Gorak has earned to be seen frequently, with his pristine, artful lines and innate épaulement. He reminds me of a young David Hallberg in many ways—also (unfortunately) in the need to build upper body muscle to be able to hoist women overheard, as he failed to do in the final exit of an otherwise crisp Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux with Isabella Boylston. Speaking of which, Boylston hit her stride this season, endearing herself further with audiences with her courage, commitment, and excellent form; she also seems to have found her match with Lendorf as a frequent partner. I saw them perform Aurora’s Wedding, an augmented act from Ratmansky’s The Sleeping Beauty. While they performed laudably, the piece itself—considered a company premiere—is a lopped off triumphal pageant that carries little of the hard-won dramatic bearing leading up to it, though much of it is still fun to see.

And there’s the return of Hallberg, after two years rehabbing a terrible foot injury, after making front-page headlines by joining the Bolshoi, which defied conventional knowledge and tropes about that company’s style, versus his own, more Mariinsky-like classical sensibility. Seeing him in action again was like seeing a unicorn. His flexibility and ballon remain remarkable, his line exquisite, his upper body strength now reliable. And he inhabits his roles more, rather than wearing them externally. Perhaps the injury did have a silver lining, by causing some soul searching and retraining. In fact he is writing a book on the topic, so we can read firsthand his thoughts.

While one dancer’s departure means another’s entrance, some dancers, like Hallberg, simply cannot be replaced. At least we can look forward to more performances by him, as well as the numerous advancing dancers who have risen through ABT's ranks. 

Ballet & Baseball—Injuries and Breakthroughs

Christine Shevchenko in ABT's Le Corsaire. Photo: Rosalie O'Connor

It's that time of year again when ballet and baseball seasons overlap. This year, the commonality is injuries and ingenues. Not a day goes by without a new team or company member needing to be replaced—often by a first-stringer, but sometimes by an up-and-comer being given a chance to shine.

For ABT, at least last week, Christine Shevchenko stepped it up to sub in four Corsaires, taking the place of both Gillian Murphy and Veronika Part as the lead, Medora. She danced admirably and flawlessly with Alban Lendorf in the performance I saw. Not to sell her short, but I still don't have a sense of her full gifts and her individual personality, but she comes across as the dancer in class or rehearsal who always knows the correct counts and steps. Becoming acquainted with these dancers, whom we grow to know and love, takes time, and also their being cast in ever more visible roles. Just as with Shevchenko.

Switching over to the baseball diamond, specifically the snake-bitten Mets, we have Michael Conforto in the Shevchenko mold. Since finally making it to the majors a couple years ago, laden with tremendous expectations, he pretty much underperformed, zigzagging between minor and major leagues stints, depending on the health of other older, better paid teammates. However, this year, he finally made himself invaluable, with one of the best batting averages on the team, and healthy (until a couple days ago, when his back bothered him enough to force him to rest). He rose to the reputation that preceded him.

Then there are the key performers who, when they go down, leave gaping holes. At ABT, we had David Hallberg gone for two years with a serious foot injury, after making such a splash in the news by joining the Bolshoi, in addition to being one of the most beloved ABT principals. His absence made space for newcomers such as Jeffrey Cirio and Alban Lendorf. And in terms of principals of his height, Corey Stearns and James Whiteside stepped it up.

Matt Harvey, thinking about it. Photo courtesy New York Mets

Over in Queens, Matt Harvey had been flavor of the day after his major league debut in 2012, striking out 11 and getting two hits. The next season, at first he fared so well that he started in the All-Star game, which happened to be held at Citifield, his home stadium. Fast forward, and he had to undergo Tommy John surgery at the end of 2013, which required him to sit out 2014. He returned in 2015, pitching well, and the team made it to the World Series, but was held to a pitch count due to concerns about his long-term health. The next season, he was diagnosed with thoracic outlet syndrome and needed surgery to remove a rib. He has pitched again this year, but with very mixed results, and was just put back on the disabled list with a scapula injury, out for at least several weeks. (Not to mention that he was suspended for three games for missing practice.)

In his stead, Noah Syndergaard supplied the fireworks last year, plus filling the publicity vacuum, and now he's out for a lengthy rehab on a lat. Steven Matz provided some spotty strength before himself succumbing to still-undiagnosed elbow pain, but he's finally back in the rotation, as is Seth Lugo, after some time off after exerting himself in the World Baseball Classic. (Their continued durability remains to be seen.) Jacob DeGrom has persisted, if spottily, and Zack Wheeler returned to the lineup after undergoing TJS as well. Oh, and can't overlook the young, appropriately long locked, gum-chewer Robert Gsellman, who has basically proved his mettle. Bartolo Colon, where for art though? (Though he actually went on the DL in Atlanta recently.)

Then there's the huge absence of team captain David Wright, who has coped for seasons with numerous issues with his back and neck, and then shoulder, and was recently shut down again after starting to throw. Not long ago, he seemed such a sure, long term thing that the team didn't have any viable minor leaguers to fill in at third base. Now they're throwing guys there who aren't at ease, such as Jose Reyes, basically Wright's contemporary. And so it goes.

Personally speaking, I think ballet is one of the toughest things to do. Every part of the body is stretched and pushed to the limit, and when you're the lead in a 2-1/2 hour ballet, there's no respite. In baseball right now, pitchers basically unnaturally overtax their throwing arms and shoulders to the point of near-certain failure. How long this will continue may depend on how many talented young hurlers think it's worth the gamble, and huge salaries nearly guarantee that there's no end in sight.

When major injuries happen to fan favorites, we are devastated. But hopefully, talent will emerge, even if it takes time and enduring rough patches. Life goes on, but memories endure.

***

If you haven't watched any coverage of the America's Cup sailing regatta taking place in Bermuda, you're missing one of the most amazing spectacles ever. It's about strategy, of course, but it's the technology that is most impressive. The vessels—it's hard to even call them boats—foil, or fly, above the water. They're even marked by percentage in the air, with 100% not uncommon. We may still not have flying cars, but we have flying boats. The finals begin today, between the USA (Oracle) and New Zealand (Emirates), which is powered not by guys producing power by with their arms, but by "cyclors," guys on bikes. On top of flying boats. Enough said. 

Mortal Davids

Herman Cornejo in The Dream. Photo: Gene Schiavone

Ballet and baseball seasons coincide, and deep into both seasons, key players are suffering wear and tear, and that has a ripple effect on their colleagues and fans.

Namely, the Davids have been waylaid—Hallberg (ABT, foot) and Wright (Mets, shoulder). I got a hefty, overdue dose of Hallberg in recent weeks, seeing him in Cinderella and then twice in Giselle, the second time when he substituted for an ill Herman Cornejo. Then Hallberg succumbed to an injury last Saturday—perhaps from overwork?—and Cory Stearns stepped in for a performance of Swan Lake. Stearns again replaced Hallberg last night in Frederick Ashton's The Dream (1964) in a double bill of Shakespeare. It was a good opportunity to see him dance, and one I wouldn't have had otherwise.

The best news of last night, however, was that Cornejo had recuperated and danced Puck in The Dream, among his finest roles, and one which he originated with ABT in this production in 2002. It fully displays all of his strengths—his utter naturalness (complemented by his woodland creature costume) in a highly unnatural art form, suspended leaps, a lovely musicality both precise and organic, and dashing wit. And while he is among the most romantic and sensitive of dancers, and is now in the regular rotation in white-tights roles, he remains legend in such spritely  characters.

Sarah Lane and Joseph Gorak in The Tempest. Photo: Marty Sohl

His compact body type is of course not a first in ballet's principal ranks, though it is still the exception. It serves as a fine example for newly-appointed soloist Joseph Gorak, who on this program reprised the romantic duet with Sarah Lane in The Tempest, by Alexei Ratmansky, to music by Sibelius. Marcelo Gomes and Daniil Simkin portrayed Prospero and Ariel, and James Whiteside the beast Caliban (with a fright wig and patchy fur); Cornejo debuted that role last year, although I can't say it entirely rewards such accomplished dancers. Gorak has also been cropping up with regularity in lead roles including in Ashton's Cinderella and Ratmansky's Nutcracker. As previously noted, he recalls Hallberg in his innate nobility and épaulement, elegant line, superbly arched feet, flexibility, and composure. And since there are several gifted smaller women in ABT, he should be busy.

Gillian Murphy in The Dream. Photo: Gene Schiavone

Seeing The Tempest in its sophomore season and transferred to the Met from the Koch, it still reads as overly prop-heavy, which forces the staging into a flat, narrow horizontal area, and it is visually over-busy. Gomes is given solid geometric movements to underscore Prospero's gravity. Ariel is an ideal role for Simkin, freeing him to flit and spin, and fly in one of his signature moves, a low arabesque sauté in which the torso is kept perpendicular. (He is another principal who distinguishes himself best in solo character roles.) As Prospero's daughter, Lane is convincingly girlish and devoted. The corps comprises the ocean, most effective when spilling downstage in a crashing wave, although Santo Loquasto's overly embellished costumes distract.

(In addition to Gorak, other ABT promotions are the buoyant and pristine Isabella Boylston to principal, and new soloists are Christine Shevchenko, who acquitted herself so well in Ratmansky's Shostakovich Trilogy, Devon Teuscher, and ABT's resident actor par excellence, Roman Zhurbin—all deserved and made from within the ranks.)

Back to The Dream, which is such a prime casting vehicle. Gillian Murphy danced Titania with a proper mix of fortitude and flourish, and her auburn ringlets somehow reinforce the fairy tale setting. Stearns seemed more at ease as Oberon than ever, again, finding the right balance of petulant and regal, and properly savoring the moments of technical braggadocio.    Blaine Hoven was Bottom, and while he needs to hone his pointe shoe work, he captured the charm and innocence of his furry, long-eared avatar. The star-struck lovers were Adrienne Schulte, so comically expressive; the plastic-faced Grant De Long, Stella Abrera, convincingly puzzled at being spurned, and Jared Matthews, who once more showed his acting chops, which we will miss as he departs to Houston Ballet with Yuriko Kajiya. 

Heal, shoulder of David Wright.

And as for the other David, over at the Mets (and not the Met)... fortunately, it's just a bruised rotator cuff on his non-throwing left shoulder. He should be back in the line-up this weekend, which is fortunate, as the Mets need him, his bat, his shoulder, and his rally towel. • Frank Cashen, Mets GM during the team's late 1980's golden era, passed away recently. He put together the 1986 world championship team which, in retrospect, was miraculous. Mex, the Kid, Doc, Nails, Strawbs, Mookie, Backman, Knight, Darling... while their fates have mixed to say the least, at least we have the privilege of hearing commentary by Keith and Ronnie, even as they twist in the wind as they cover the lackluster current team. 

David Hallberg, Home Again

Gillian Murphy & David Hallberg in Cinderella.
Photo: Gene Schiavone

It's been a year since we've seen principal dancer David Hallberg perform with ABT, as he began dancing with the Bolshoi and splits his time between Moscow and New York. I guess we should feel lucky that he keeps one elegant foot here, even if it means a reduced spring ABT season workload and no fall/winter New York dates. It would be unthinkable to lose him completely.

In any case, it's wonderful to see him again in well-suited leads in Cinderella and Giselle. He is a natural-born prince (despite—because of?—his South Dakota provenance), with his statuesque height, noble profile, blond locks, and his innate hauteur. In his months with the Bolshoi, he has added welcome upper body strength to make overhead ballerina presses look easy, particularly with the sparrow-sized Alina Cojocaru in last Saturday evening's Giselle (he stepped in for an ailing Herman Cornejo), but also in the case of the substantially taller Polina Semionova earlier in the week.

In Cinderella, he confidently lifted Gillian Murphy above his head and gracefully descended a set of stairs. He has burnished other elements of his partnering studies—the feather-soft placing of the ballerina back on point, firmly gripping her waist as she tilts downward in arabesque, arranging his gaze to complement hers. It's somewhat ironic that the better partner a man is, the more he disappears, but in a good way.

Hallberg in Giselle. Photo: Gene Schiavone

Hallberg's demeanor is less that of an innocent youth now, and grounded with more maturity and intent. When he ponders his fate, it reads as concerned instead of unclear. And his technique remains paradigmatic, amplified through an emphasis of certain details. A leg held at 90º for an added second or two projects into infinity through his gloriously pointed, high-arched foot. As he circles in the forest, a small scissor step has become far wider and bolder, expressing ecstasy but also ferocity. (Has he learned to outwardly savor those moments when he approaches the sublime, as his fellow dancers often do?) And as always, he floats in perfect split grand jetés, defying gravity. One drawback is that he is so long-legged that the Met stage seems too small for him in these leaps.

I would not have predicted that Semionova would be such a profoundly moving Giselle; her rather tall height doesn't lend itself to the girlishness that in part makes the character's illness and death so terribly sad. But she moves with such tenderness and delicacy that she appeared to be moving through water at times. Hallberg is the right height for her, and together they were heartachingly gorgeous. He is tall for Cojocaru, with whom he danced on Saturday, but she gives a powerful portrayal of the broken ingenue. (Plus, how can one quibble with him as a substitute, despite missing Cornejo's only Giselle?) She is a natural fit for the role, seamlessly transitioning from a demure coquette to a tragic spirit. Again, it is a lovely gift that Cojocaru, one of the luminaries of the current generation, guests with ABT.

Alina Cojocaru as Giselle. Photo: Gene Schiavone

David Hallberg will perform in Swan Lake and The Dream in the final weeks of ABT's season at the Met, and in July, with the Bolshoi during the Lincoln Center Festival. When it rains it pours, but don't hesitate to seize the moment as he is a singular talent in a generation of fine dancers.

ABT—Quixotically Entertaining

Say cheese! Natalia Osipova and Ivan Vasiliev in Don Quixote. Photo: Gene Schiavone

The ABT principal Ivan Vasiliev soars so high in jumps that he arrests time to fit in extra tricks. I don't even know the names for some of the things he does... A triple scissor split jeté? (Although for once in a single ballet, more than one man performed an intriguingly named rivoltade—a move is so complicated that I can't even describe it, but it ends by sort of vaulting over your own leg. Joseph Phillips, who shone as the head gypsy, performed it with even more brilliance than Vasiliev.) In his one-handed lifts of his partner Natalia Osipova, he balanced on one leg, which is not the most beautiful pose, but it impressed if simply for hubris. Perhaps even more astonishing is that Osipova soars nearly as high with quadriceps half the size of his, which resemble a bullfrog's. (As Dance Mag's Wendy Perron noted, the on and offstage celeb-ballet couple has been irresistibly dubbed "Vasipova.")

It's all great entertainment on the gymnastic end of the spectrum, and isn't that why we go, at least sometimes? Interestingly, Osipova will soon be partnered in Romeo & Juliet (Jun 14) by Vasiliev's polar opposite, David Hallberg. Obviously they are completely different physical types—one might even believe different species. Hallberg is a bunch taller, lean, loose, alabaster cool, and naturally floats into perfect positions; Vasiliev is coiled, compact, explosive as a powder keg, and brusque. And that's the beauty of ballet, which has room for such disparate artists whose characteristics and gifts can be appreciated on their own merits, but not to the exclusion of others.

And Osipova? Indeed, she hovers between the two extremes, the rare ballerina who can match the ballon of men, and retain precision when snicking through chainés or passés so fast that the orchestra cannot keep pace. (This raises a question—is it proper for the ballerina to dictate such a too-fast pace any more than it is for a conductor to make the tempo too fast for a dancer? I suppose the answer is that the audience gobbled it up.) Yet despite these gifts of power and speed, she can be delicate, lyrical, gamine-like. Her demeanor tends to read as playful and coy rather than maturely romantic, although she is still just 27, with many years of experience yet to invest in suffusing her technical skills with soul.

With the addition of Vasiliev, ABT's principal roster skews a little more rough and muscular. Several additional new imported leading men will dance soon and make their mark, including Denis Matvienko, James Whiteside, Vadim Muntagirov, Steven McRae, and Alban Lendorf, in addition to ABT-seasoned, but still relatively new to lead roles, Alex Hammoudi, Daniil Simkin, and Jared Matthews. None of these fine dancers should distract from the strong middle ranks including the aforementioned Phillips and Joseph Gorak. 

Newish principal women Hee Seo and Polina Semionova have huge role lists this season, as opposed to Gillian Murphy and Alina Cojocaru, who have a lot going on in other parts of the world but will touch down for a few shows (Cojocaru with Herman Cornejo in The Sleeping Beauty on July 3 sounds mandatory). The corps flaunted talent in Don Q: as flower girls, Skylar Brandt danced with effervescence and crispness, and Luciana Paris, heretofore best known from dancing the Sinatra Suite, showed a silken warmth and finesse. 

I've touched on just a handful of dancers, but there are so many diverse artists who deserve attention, perhaps in future posts. ABT may not have a cohesive style, but its dancers range across the diversity of humanity.  

Onegin: Kin of Don Draper?

David Hallberg. Photo: Gene Schiavone

All props to Mad Men's Matthew Weiner for crafting a searing modern tragedy that's as visually indelible as it is dramatically. But watching ABT's Onegin got me wondering... was Don Draper inspired by the unlikable Onegin?

They both are ladies' men, of a sorts. Ennui is their middle name. They both have sadistic streaks. They're both control freaks. They tend to win stand offs, verbal or ballistic. They're both involved with letters tainted with regret. They both wear black and white with panache. They'll both die unhappy and alone, most likely. Hallberg has the hauteur, sang-froid, and beauty to convince, just as Jon Hamm does for Don Draper. 

It's funny, when you think about it, there aren't that many truly despicable lead male roles in the ballet canon (there are grippingly evil ones, like Von Rothbart in Swan Lake, the Sorcerer guy in Ratmansky's Firebird, and Death in The Green Table, all of which have been danced by Hallberg), but if you can think of any, post a comment. Some are caddish, lazy, or unmotivated, but Onegin is just a bad dude. He rejects the affections of Tatiana, flirts with her sister Olga, provokes Olga's beloved into a fit of jealousy capped by a duel challenge, and offs him. Years later, jealous and alone, Onegin tries to win back Tatiana after she is happily married. 

Joseph Gorak, also in Splitsville. Photo: Rosalie O'Connor

The rest of the leads filled out a solid bill. Polina Semionova, as Tatiana, has perhaps the most thankless dramatic role, moping and being ignored for a good spell, until she emerges as her happier married self in a ruby-red dress. Semionova has lovely, long lines and pairs well with Hallberg, but her dramatic portrayals could use some development. Yuriko Kajiya dances Olga with her typical delicacy and sweetness; your heart can't help but flutter and sing when you see her (and yes, bird analogies are inevitable. Happy birds.) And Joseph Gorak's impeccable technique and pristine lines are on full view in the role of Lensky. It's truly exciting to see talent and role match up so fortuitously. And how reassuring to see Hallberg back onstage after dealing with an injury last year that prevented him from appearing at Jacob's Pillow with Jonah Bokaer, among other performances.

ABT—Swan Lake, Swan Song

Thanks, Angel. Photo: Rosalie O'Connor 

Angel Corella's ABT farewell, on June 28, was a bittersweet highlight during an auspicious week of Swan Lakes. The Spaniard partnered another longtime ABT principal, Paloma Herrera. Both were born in 1975; Herrera (from Argentina) joined the company in 1991, and Corella four years later. They arrived to great fanfare, both brilliant and exciting young rock stars (in the wake of Baryshnikov, who left in '90) who garnered general interest beyond ballet's avid fan base. I remember being dumbstruck by Herrera's incredible feet and perfect line. She seemed to mark a new generation of more athletic, yet more refined ballerinas. And Corella could spin like a top, literally, and his charm fairly burst from his compact body.


So it was with complex emotions that I watched them perform this great ballet marking Corella's goodbye, one they've done countless times. Corella is now devoting most of his time to his own company and school, Barcelona Ballet. Even for a man to whom it seemed ballet's riches gravitated naturally, in a country that hasn't had a national ballet company in more than two decades, it hasn't been an easy path. The troupe was relocated and renamed, and commissioned works which reflect the proud, rich Spanish culture. But the country's economy has since been on an inexorable downslide, which can't bode well for national support.

Paloma Herrera and Angel Corella. Photo: Rosalie O'Connor

Corella will continue to dance with his own company, but judging from a recent run in New York (reviewed here), he is predictably dancing roles with more of an emphasis on drama than on pyrotechnics. He has at times appeared heroic in his turns and leaps, but he is human, as hard as it is to accept that. Even last night, he whipped as quickly as ever in pirouettes, his smiling face a blur, so it was easy to overlook his loss of flexibility and ballon. And yet his acting was richer, his scenes of soul-searching more believable than ever, grounded by maturity. 


Herrera was a careful, detailed Odette, giving as much attention to placing her toe on the floor as the tilt of her head. Her deliberation paid off when she extended one leg while opening her arms like a flower blooming, creating a resonant visual tension. Her coolness balanced out Corella's warmth, which hopefully we'll continue to see seasonally with his company's New York visits. His peers lay bouquets at his feet before a blizzard of mylar confetti blanketed the stage. Angel beamed, all that was needed to catch our hearts one last time.

Polina Semionova and David Hallberg. Photo: Rosalie O'Connor

I also caught the cast featuring Polina Semionova and David Hallberg, both absurdly naturally gifted. Hallberg has evolved into the unicorn of ABT, that magical, too-perfect being that could only be imagined, and even though a regular throughout this Met season, has given what feel like rare and infrequent performances because each is so special. (Sara Mearns is his NYCB counterpart.) He has addressed some early soft spots, never dire because of his other plentiful gifts—he has become stronger, more passionate, more fiery, and winning in dark roles. Meanwhile, and this is going to sound weird, but he is more confident with his ethereality, allowing a more fulsome delicacy to pervade his dancing. It is this poetry that gives his sublime lines a true vulnerability.


Semionova is his physical female counterpart—long, gorgeous lines and unimpeded extensions. When Hallberg lifts her in second splits, it's dazzling. But her performance felt  surficial, lacking in psychological depth. Hallberg has channelled his great physical gifts to imbue his dancing with soul. 


In this cast, Alex Hammoudi danced Von Rothbart: The Man, with the fancy purple suede boots. He was dastardly and bewitchingly seductive, and his robust physique is a good foundation for this gem of a role. Despite his corps rank, Hammoudi has been cast in several major roles this season. He should at least be a soloist in the near future.


ABT's Met season wraps up this week with the glitzy Corsaire, another ballet that requires two leading men. Look for Ethan Stiefel (retiring as well) and Ivan Vasiliev (jumps like a kangaroo) as Ali, the slave, in head turning performances.

Ovations for Romeos and Homers

The back of the giveaway t-shirt commemorating the No-han. The front's less graphically appealing. 

The good news
Looks like Johan's okay, two starts after his no hitter, as he led the Mets to a 5-0 win over the Orioles last night at Citi Field. If the game wasn't perfect, the weather was—still spring-cool on the summer solstice and longest daylight day of the year, in advance of a smothering heat wave. Not a full house by any means, there were still enough of us on hand to shower Lucas Duda with ovations as he circled the bases during his home run trot while banking 3 runs. 


Even better news
The Mets' two wins over the Os, dominant in their AL division, continued this season's baffling feast-or-famine streakiness, after getting swept by the Yanks, sweeping the Rays, and getting swept by the Reds. Just another chapter in a season that began if not in gloom then with indifference, but that has blossomed into a fascinating story, not the least of which is the tale of RA Dickey and his knuckleball. A mysterious pitch at the heart of a mystical and mystery-filled 2012 season, which is nearly halfway done, sadly.


Some icing on the cake
Will Dickey start the All-Star Game? Normally I pay little attention to the ritual, as much marketing vehicle as recognition for accomplishments. But with odds on Dickey to start, as well as team leader David Wright at third, I may just have to watch.


Romeos and Juliets
Speaking of ovations, on Monday I saw ABT's Romeo and Juliet, starring Natalia Osipova and David Hallberg. These two have been getting a lot of buzz, and it's obvious why: they both leap like springboks, have heartachingly beautiful lines, limitless extensions, and a charming chemistry. But a season full of similarly dazzling talent (Gomes and Vishneva on Friday were just as moving, in a more mature and grounded way) can present one curtain call and bouquet after another, in a sort of numbing repetition. 

Natalia Osipova and David Hallberg in their command,
post-act 1 curtain call. Photo: Ardani Artists

Ovation as remote control
But after the first act curtain came down on Monday, the applause didn't fade as it normally does after a minute or so. It lulled, then built again, and the stage manager had the good sense to round up David and Natalia and usher them onstage in front of the pulled-back curtain for an impromptu bow. It was something I'd never seen, and reassurance that the audience does indeed play an active part in performances. And it reminded me of a post-home run curtain call that fans demand of sluggers.


Ballet fans answer to practically no one
This is more obvious at the ballpark, where fans are goaded by means of ear-splitting synthetic music and beats to clap and yell as loud as possible. Well, the team has either earned it or not, in my book: a crazy video and loudspeakers aren't going to make me put my hands together otherwise. At the ballet, it's simply earned or not. Even if there were slips and bobbles (speaking of, how about bobble head ballet dancers?), if the dancers poured their hearts into it, they'll be rewarded with ovations. Some ballet fans are as fervent as Mets fans. And some of us are both.

ABT's Bright, Light Stream

David Hallberg. Photo: Rosalie O'Connor

The Bright Stream, by Alexei Ratmansky to Shostakovich, is a big cream puff in the serious, jamon laden banquet of ABT's spring season. That's not to say that La Bayadère doesn't have lighter moments... it's just that the characters don't seem to realize it. But in The Bright Stream, everyone performs with a wink and a nod, and it looks like the dancers are having a blast. Ratmanksy has created an ensemble vehicle that in theory is led by four stars, but the limelight is often stolen by a shaggy dog or a milkmaid. It's all part of the fun, amid Ilya Utkin's etched-effect sets.

Marcelo Gomes, Paloma Herrera, David Hallberg, and Gillian Murphy are the headliners. Herrera and Murphy are both solid, technically outstanding dancers with picture-perfect proportions. Herrera's got killer feet, and Murphy is a spinner. But I have to admit that I have seen less of them in recent seasons with what seems to be an increasing number of fancy-pants guest ballerinas like Osipova (now apparently a regular principal), Cojocaru, not to mention resident Russian star Vishneva. It is a lucky fool's errand, trying to decide on one or two casts to see, but that means I invariably miss others.


There were a few seasons when Herrera (Zina) was perpetually paired with Gomes so that they moved as one. That feeling resurfaced in this performance, especially with Gomes' "aw shucks" demeanor as the Pyotr, the country bumpkin. Hallberg of course stole the show dressed as a sylph, alternating between convincingly feminine affectations and a galumphing guy. His height and long limbs increase the comical impression. Murphy is perfect as the Ballerina, masquerading as a man, bursting across the stage in flat-out split leaps. Supporting, yet key, roles were danced by Craig Salstein, Misty Copeland, Maria Riccetto, Jared Matthews, Martine van Hamel, Victor Barbee, and Roman Zhurbin.


As refreshing as this ballet is, I find the choppy pacing a bit distracting, as well as the plethora of mime. And I know it's all part of the joke, but the extent to which hiding one's entire identity behind an eye mask stretches the limits, especially when the ballerinas have black, blonde, and flame red hair. Still, it's hard to recall the dancers looking as happy while performing, and for that we are thankful.

Cultural debrief—May 20

What's a blog for if not to empty one's head? This week's stuff, unpacked...

David sporting a Ducks hockey jersey.
If you were batting .409, you could
pull this off too.

David Wright and the Mets

David Wright is leading the MLB with a batting average of .411. Only a fool would believe he could sustain this pace through the entire season, so let's appreciate it while we can. And his dugout contretemps with manager Terry Collins the other night may have aired internal dirty laundry, but it was by no means a bad thing, showing the spine that Wright has but hides behind his puppy-like persona. (After the Mets pitcher hit the Brewers' star, Collins pulled Wright to avoid retaliation, as Wright suffered a concussion last year and still has a broken finger.) His usual public face is so affable and conciliatory that we rarely see that fire, but there it was. And the Mets are fun to watch now, with small ball, one sizzling hitter in Wright and another in Murphy, and RA Dickey -- Renaissance pitcher and wiffle ball enthusiast (watch him learning a few things from the kids here) who climbed Mt. Everest and listens to Chopin's nocturnes on his drive home. Whee.

Coda: as of May 20, the Mets have lost 4 of their last 5 games, tied for third in the division. Wright was rested yesterday and is still batting .409.

David Hallberg & Natalia Osipova in Giselle

ABT's overabundant casting

Gomes or Hallberg? Osipova or Vishneva? Everyone should have such problems. With the many international guest dancers that ABT features in addition to its abundant "home grown" ranks, picking which shows to see is a sport. I saw Giselle with Julie Kent and Marcelo Gomes last Tuesday. Kent (born in 1969) is still physically lithe enough, but she's never struck me as impetuous enough to be the rebellious teen called for. Yet she and Gomes have danced together so much that they are perfectly harmonious as partners. Of course the dancers are portraying characters, so the semblance of reality is moot, but some dancers are naturally better suited to roles. Not so Giselle for Kent, I'm afraid. And yet Gomes is the complete dancer now—technically fine and regally handsome, but it is his acting and partnering that vault him above all others.

Natalia Osipova, however, is a natural Giselle—gamine-like, strong-willed, with an inner spark and a preternatural ballon (although her act 2 tutu was about 4" too long). She was paired with David Hallberg at Saturday's matinee for a sublime, possibly perfect performance. Both soar like gazelles, and their chemistry is wonderful—poetic and heartachingly sublime. That Hallberg joined the Bolshoi, in part to dance with Osipiva, just as she left the company only adds to the poignancy.  

Ernesto Neto, photo courtesy Tonya Bonakdar and the artist.

Chelsea Galleries—caught a few interesting ones with some high school pals:

Ernesto Neto (Tanya Bonakdar, ends May 25) is known for his goofy, likable amoebas-in-pantyhose sculptures; here he enlarges the scale of the mesh to fishing net-sized, the sand is now rubber balls, and you can tunnel into them like cocoons.

Tauba Auerbach (Paula Cooper, ends June 9) weaves canvas strips to create subtly textured, variegated surfaces, and paints crinkled, unfolded fabric as subject matter.

Anish Kapoor (Barbara Gladstone, ends June 9) is showing a giant, iron diving bell-like sculpture. You can stand in its hollow and hear your voice ricocheting off its sides; it's impressive for its immensity and weathered, steampunky appearance. At Gladstone's other gallery (which I did not see), in a departure, he has a series of lumpen, dripped, unpainted concrete sculptures that resemble stalagmites.

Richard Avedon (Gagosian, 21st St, ends July 6) took portraits of countless throngs, but this exhibition focuses on four groups of subjects around 1970, including Warhol's Factory klatch and Abbie Hoffman's extended family. Cleverly designed partitions isolate each mural-sized photo, pinned behind huge panes of glass like dead butterflies.

Cindy Sherman (Metro Pictures, ends June 9) shot Icelandic landscapes around the time of the recent volcanic eruptions, herself in vintage Chanel outfits, and Photoshopped the results—bizarre, jarring juxtapositions.

All-Star Break: Kings of the Dance and Tom Gold Dance

Flying Kings: Gomes, Hallberg, Côté, Matvienko, Vasiliev. Photo: Gene Schiavone

Just as Linsanity was peaking, along came the NBA all-star break, when the top players get to show off in a different way. The New York ballet world is undergoing a sort of all-star break itself in the wake of NYCB's winter season. Of course, it's not like NYCB or ABT's dancers are lounging around eating bon bons... they tour between NY seasons, or dance with other companies, so the break, or vacuum, is really for us.

Last weekend, the 2012 Kings of the Dance—Opus 3—performed at City Center. This year’s lineup included ABT’s Marcelo Gomes and David Hallberg (also, Bolshoi), Guillaume Côté (National Ballet of Canada), Denis Matvienko (Mariinsky Ballet), and Ivan Vasiliev (Mikhailovsky Ballet, and until recently, the Bolshoi). The point of this Ardani Artists project, like many in its portfolio, is to allow ballet to fiddle around and experiment with contemporary styles, and to explore other aspects of physical and emotional expressiveness.

The main drag on this program is that the curatorial taste leaned on a certain genre of European, neurotic gesture-heavy contemporary ballet. At the end of the evening, Mauro Bigonzetti (whose work Jazzy Five comprised the first half), Marco Goecke, Patrick de Bana, and Edward Clug’s vocabularies unfortunately blended together in the mind—a mixture of twitches, cause-and-reaction limb work, and dramatically lit musculature. Even these admittedly fantastic dancers found little in this material to make memorable, although both Hallberg and Gomes worked best in their Bigonzetti solos, taking the task to heart, and Vasiliev blasted off earth in his leaps.

A nice surprise—Gomes choreographed KO’d, the appealing finale, set to a symphony composed by Guillaume Côté. Gomes basically hewed to a classical vocabulary, which seemed to relax and liberate the men. Côté exited after a group section and emerged playing the piano for a brief time. (Too bad these guys have no skills.) An easy collegiality made for an uplifting ending on a bill that could have used some more aesthetic variety.

Tyler Angle and Simone Messmer. Photo: Eugene Gologursky

On Monday night, Tom Gold Dance presented a compact program on the ultra-compact stage at Florence Gould Hall. This ex-NYCB soloist put together a ridiculously gifted cast including current principals Sara Mearns, Tyler and Jared Angle, Robert Fairchild, and Abi Stafford (all from NYCB), and the rising star soloist Simone Messmer at ABT. They performed four of Gold's dances which varied in tone and musical genre. The opening group dance, filled with coy touches, was set to Asian-like music by Alexandre Desplat. Three lovely duets to Romantic piano music (played live), danced poetically by Messmer and Tyler Angle, showed Gold's knack with creating interesting finishes. Three couples performed the more classical Mozart Variations; Stafford, of smaller build and refined features, especially shone in this close context.

The ensemble crammed onstage for Tango Fantasie, in which Fairchild showed his magnetism and cool style, and partners Tyler Angle and Sara Mearns smoldered. Of course, we want to see this caliber of performer as much as possible, but it was hard to see the dance for the dancers. No doubt the performance was meant to entice further support for future programming on a larger stage, a chance Gold certainly merits. Especially if he can assemble all-stars like this.

American Ballet Theatre Achieves Perfection with Giselle, 6/2/11

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American Ballet Theatre Achieves Perfection with Giselles starring Marcelo Gomes, Diana Vishneva, David Hallberg, Hee Seo

http://www.thirteen.org/sundayarts/blog/ballet/american-ballet-theatre-achieves-perfection-with-giselle/1334/

Diana Vishneva and Marcelo Gomes in Giselle. Photo by Gene Schiavone.

Perfection is a dangerous word, especially when applied to a subjectively perceived art like ballet. But I have no doubt that it applies to ABT‘s Giselle as performed by Diana Vishneva and Marcelo Gomes on May 27. These two artists have worked together many times in different roles, so a bit of complacency might be expected. On the contrary, they seemed to inspire one another to reach deeper into their characters, tapping their formidable technical and artistic skills. As their roles dictate, they united in spirit, and worked together physically as one. When he partnered her in a series of bounding lifts, it was impossible to tell whether she was aloft or standing. Gomes has long been the company’s finest partner (you may recall me using the term “Gomes bump,” a guaranteed increase in duet quality for any lucky ballerina), but here, he surpassed previous performances with an attentiveness, and framing of, Vishneva. How he manages to essentially reflect and illuminate her while commanding the stage space himself is one of the great, euphoric mysteries of this dancer.

How About a Subway Swan Lake?, 2/16/11

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How About a Subway Swan Lake?, Wishing that David Hallberg and Sara Mearns would partner...

http://www.thirteen.org/sundayarts/blog/ballet/how-about-a-subway-swan-lake/1069/

Jared Angle and Sara Mearns in Swan Lake. Photo by Paul Kolnik.

New York City Ballet is performing Swan Lake,choreographed by Peter Martins after Petipa/Ivanov/Balanchine to Tchaikovsky’s score, a few more times through the end of its winter season, which ends on February 27. The women dancing Odette/Odile vary fairly widely, from allegro dynamo (Ashley Bouder) to willowy and lyrical (Teresa Reichlen). But I can’t imagine anyone fitting into—no, seizing—the role better at the moment than Sara Mearns, whose style expands easily, incomparably, into the more elusive “black swan” range. (My only reference, I promise.)

Mearns is on the taller side, with long limbs and a heart-shaped face. But her expression doesn’t emanate just from her facial expression. It’s in every cell—her carriage, the openness of her torso, her flexible spine, her épaulement. She’s a skilled technician with great dramatic range, extreme flexibility, and a go-for-broke daring. And she has the rare ability to truly transcend self-consciousness onstage while inhabiting a role, a trait managed by very few of even the finest dancers.

Kings Dance Among Us, 2/22/10

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Kings of the Dance at City Center

http://www.thirteen.org/sundayarts/blog/ballet/kings-dance-among-us/802/

Ballet can be a spectacle, but the big companies tend to sublimate this aspect in deference to emphasizing the classic stories, its rich history, the ever-present sublime beauty. So there’s something refreshing, if blunt, about the frank populist appeal of Kings of the Dance which took place at City Center last week. Produced by Ardani Artists, if the artists involved weren’t truly world-class, the title would be more humorous than serious. Fortunately, the cast boasted local stars Marcelo Gomes, Jose Manuel Carreno, David Hallberg (all ABT), Desmond Richardson (Complexions), and Joaquin de Luz (NYCB), plus Guillaume Cote (National Ballet of Canada), Denis Matvienko (Mariinsky), and Nikolay Tsiskaridze.

This year’s densely-packed 2.5 hour program was well put-together for such a star vehicle. It led off with Christopher Wheeldon’s gentle For 4 (2006), which opens with the four crisply silhouetted like a pantheon of, well, kings, with each man’s solo overlapping with the next to Franz Schubert’s music. I think the men were striving to look relaxed, but at times it bordered on feeling unrehearsed. Given the demands on these artists’ schedules, that would be understandable.