ABT Moves Toward the Future

Isabella Boylston as Odette. Photo: Gene Schiavone.

The portion of ABT's two-month spring season—Sylvia, La Fille Mal Gardée, Corsaire, Swan Lake, and Romeo and Juliet—felt more stolid than ever, particularly in contrast to the other half, by Alexei Ratmansky. There will always be fans of these foundational ballets; no doubt the ironclad Swan Lake drew the largest audiences. But as noted in previous posts, Ratmansky is not only making new versions of classic ballets (his Sleeping Beauty winds up the season this week), but finding new (or new old) ways and forms in which to use the language of ballet.

Another evolutionary shift was seen in the rising popularity of homegrown stars, most obviously in Misty Copeland, whose presence in mass media is unprecedented by a ballet star, at least in recent decades. Stella Abrera finally got her turn in leading roles after 20 years. Gillian Murphy was probably the most reliable from a popular and technical standpoint, with Isabella Boylston and Hee Seo proving to be solid and versatile principals. Soloists Alex Hammoudi and Thomas Forster were given lead and major roles in most ballets, and alternated with Roman Zhurbin in some of the saucier character roles. Skylar Brandt was given prominent roles, and with her dash and presence, she showed us why. Joseph Gorak continues to impress with his elegance and noble line. Arron Scott seemed to be in every show, as did distinguished corps member Gabe Stone Shayer.

Some star power was lost with David Hallberg and Polina Semionova not dancing the season. Alessandra Ferri made the most prominent one as Juliet paired with Herman Cornejo. Marcelo Gomes is the most distinguished and reliable male principal, as he has been for years, but the transition door opened a bit further with his character role appearances, particularly as a bawdy Widow Simone in Fille. He adds this to his resume, which now includes several choreography credits.

Swan Lake

Isabella Boylston is asserting herself as one of ABT's most versatile and solid home-grown principals. On June 18, she danced Odette/Odile partnered by Gomes. Her confidence and boldness suggest that she might be a natural Odile. But as Odette, her skilled technique provided a serenity and precision that helped to define her solitude as the vulnerable swan. Gomes—smooth, powerful, and an unmatched partner—never flags from inhabiting Albrecht, even while standing on the side, observing others dance. Thomas Forster did justice to the suave purple boots of the human Von Rothbart. Like Ali the slave in Corsaire, it's a part with little stage time, but lots of juiciness. Forster's long legs and arched feet gave the phrasing polish and a knife edge.

Marcelo Gomes in Swan Lake. Photo: Gene Schiavone.

Romeo and Juliet

I caught the Diana Vishneva/Gomes cast. It seems that she is dancing less than ever this season; perhaps it’s due to other obligations as her career is quite active apart from ABT, starting with the Mariinsky. But she shouldn’t be taken for granted in New York. She invests every move and gesture with a profound expressiveness. Combined with her wonderful technique and pliant back, she remains the ideal dramatic ballerina. It had been a couple of years since I’d seen Gomes as Romeo, and was delighted by his exuberance as the playboy and the depths for which he fell for Juliet. Forster made for a fierce Tybalt, and the sword fight between he and Romeo was the most convincing I’ve seen.
Fast dwindling are the days when the men of ABT were dominated by dancers from South America or Spanish-speaking countries. Those who have risen at ABT are distinguishing themselves, even if they aren’t among the globe-hopping stars who alight briefly for one or two roles. And the current company is lucky to have the chance to be raw material for Ratmansky, who is still young and clearly has fresh ideas to explore. It's an exciting time to be a ballet fan.

ABT's Abrera—Real-life Cinderella

Joseph Gorak and Stella Abrera in Cinderella. Photo: MIRA.

ABT's annual two-month Met season, was, as usual, largely about classic stories dramatized through ballet. But more so than in recent years, the season itself took on dramatic twists and turns that unfolded as the weeks passed. Injuries deprived audiences of David Hallberg (his absence months foreseen), but during the season, Polina Semionova and Natalia Osipova, among others. Strategic one-shot guest casting made viewing scheduling unusually difficult. Misty Copeland's promotion to principal marked the season's crescendo in the penultimate week, whipping into a frenzy not only ballet fans, but the popular media—sure to continue with the announcement that she will replace Megan Fairchild in On the Town on Broadway.

At last Saturday's Cinderella matinee, the other newly-minted principal, Stella Abrera, danced the lead role. Not to be overly ham-handed, but the fairy tale felt analogous to the real-life situation. Abrera has been with the company for nearly 20 years, and after working diligently in major supporting roles such as Myrtha and Lilac Fairy, emerged as the princess. The confidence that came with her promotion no doubt bolstered her strong performance, in which she seemed especially luminous. She has (as have most dancers) been through some injuries, which sap self-assurance and can imbue performances with tentativeness; hopefully healthy, she will continue to expand her confidence. She danced opposite Joseph Gorak, who is living proof of the emotional potential of technique done well, as he did a triple pirouette at a relatively slow tempo, and unfolded his raised leg in a développé that wafted in the air, weightless. In the finale, with sparkling mylar confetti raining down on the pair as they looked toward a bright future together, it felt like a version of the rags-to-riches story come true. 

It also underscored why we fans love ballet. It's not just the pretty tutus and sets, the technique, the romance and time-honored stories. It's the dancers we've followed for years, watching them grow, develop, mature, undergo hardships and injuries, and at savory moments such as these, triumph. Newly appointed soloists also proved Kevin McKenzie's wisdom in promoting, including Arron Scott, Skylar Brandt, Cassandra Trenary, and it-girl Misty Copeland dancing a fairy role, the kind of role that she'll most likely dance less and less. Soloist Devon Teuscher danced the lead fairy with a tender strength.     

Evgenia Obraztsova as Juliet. Photo: Rosalie O'Connor

Ballet fans get excited about new productions of the classics because they are the vehicles in which our favorite dancers get to shine, and (with any luck) they must withstand repeated viewings. Recently, Alex Ratmansky's The Sleeping Beauty, for ABT, became the latest major production to take flight, and it is successful enough to anticipate its return for many seasons to come, and not simply to amortize the steep production cost.

Gillian Murphy as Odile. Photo: Rosalie O'Connor

In Kenneth MacMillan's weathered but reliable version of Romeo & Juliet, one of the male stars of ABT, Herman Cornejo, danced recently with Evgenia Obraztsova, guesting from the Bolshoi. Given a ballerina with such an illustrious pedigree, but not having seen her previously, the few expectations I had were high, and she exceeded them. Of course her technique is impeccable, and she easily ranges between ingenue and wizened lover, which can be a stretch. She is a combination of delicacy and strength, and size-wise matched well with Cornejo, the most naturalistic and suave of ABT's men. I can imagine rehearsal time was minimal, which is one big drawback with the guest artist system, but they fared well no matter.

ABT's Swan Lake is another well-trod production (by Petipa/Ivanov/McKenzie), which many find moth eaten. But I have affection for it, even for the silly stuffed swan prologue stand-in for Odette. It's a compact two acts, and no scene lasts too long, not the opening birthday celebration with a pas de trois and townsfolk dance, or the later scene containing international dances. The two pas de deux between Odette/Odile and the Prince remain the tentpoles of the ballet, plus a saucy solo for the human Von Rothbart, usually parceled out to a principal male. Many of the acts are fleshed out by the mesmerizing swan corps. And as always, Tchaikovsky's sublime score supports the ballet.

At June 22's Swan Lake, starring Gillian Murphy and Marcelo Gomes, everything whirred and clicked into place. Murphy has long been perhaps the company's strongest woman technically speaking, but her persona has, oddly, contained so much confidence that expressing vulnerability can be a stretch for her. But here, she conveyed emotional fragility as Gomes enfolded her into his arms, while paying great attention to the dual role's array of delicate details. And naturally, as Odile, she was able to flash that terrific confidence, dazzling us and her prince in her fouette pirouettes, which alternated between triples and doubles with her arms in a V. Just when you thought you'd seen it all!

Marcelo Gomes in Swan Lake. Photo: Gene Schiavone

At the end of the Act 3 pas, as she and Gomes snapped into place at the precise ending beat, so did the outstanding corps of swans. It was a rare moment of complete synchrony, and you felt that the collective years of all of the dancers onstage were coming to fruition. Gomes, of course, showed again why he's so beloved. Every moment onstage he IS Siegfried, so we read even the smallest thoughts as they flicker through his mind. He elicits the most from himself, his partner, and everyone around him, including us. At this point in his career, such roles as these are in his blood, so he is ever more free to interpret their nuances, pushing ever farther the parameters of the role.

ABT—Dark the Soul, Bright the Stars

Julie Kent & Marcelo Gomes in Othello. Photo: Gene Schiavone

We love ballet because it can defy mortality. The grace and ease with which the pros do the most difficult steps refutes gravity and the way most of us clump along, meat bags with a few muscles and bones. On the other hand, many of the full-length ballets in ABT's current Met Opera House season underscore the frailties and downfalls of being all too human.

Lar Lubovitch's Othello is revived every so often in part to showcase a powerful male dancer at the peak of his powers, and ABT has no better embodiment than Marcelo Gomes. Although the role was set on Desmond Richardson, it seems built for Gomes. As the curtain rises, simply sitting on his throne, clutching its arms, head bowed, he commands attention. The muscles on his bronze breastplate may not be his, but we don't doubt the power implied (we're also familiar with Gomes' strength).  

Xiomara Reyes, soon galloping into the sunset, in Rodeo. Photo: Gene Schiavone

It never hurts to have a good tale behind a story ballet, and Shakespeare's deeply troubling examination of loyalty and deceit reveals the darkest side of man's nature. James Whiteside made for a believably sinister Iago, slithering and scything his way around the stage's perimeter like an angry shadow. Julie Kent's Desdemona is effectively naive, and Stella Abrera, as Emilia, perfunctorily foreboding. The addition of Bianca (Misty Copeland) and Cassio (Joseph Gorak), who become vehicles for betrayal, flesh out the stage action while clouding the narrative. Still, these two magnetic dancers have some of the best sections of dancing, unchained from the text. The white scarf becomes a searing emblem of love; the more hands that touch it, the more tainted it becomes as a symbol of devotion. 

Agnes De Mille's Rodeo, on the other hand, begins with its lead cowgirl, Xiomara Reyes, longing for the camaraderie of the posse of cowboys, but being ignored until she accedes to at least some feminine conventions. Xiomara Reyes is retiring this season, but her lead performance makes that hard to believe. She's as sassy and tomboyish as ever, in this, one of her best dramatic vehicles. It highlights a buoyant sense of humor that can be buried in formal ballets, albeit where she excels technically. She will be missed in this role. James Whiteside danced the role of the cowboy who moves from buddy to beau, including a lighthearted tap segment.

Isabella Boylston as Giselle. Photo: MIRA

Giselle as well ponders the foibles of the heart, both figuratively and literally. Albrecht falls for, and guilelessly deceives, the frail Giselle, who after death is consigned to join the Wilis (basically, ghosts of unmarried women who taunt men and make them dance to death). Certain ballerinas are born to perform the role of Giselle, and Isabella Boylston is one of them. Her size, her ballon, and flexibility all contribute to a fine characterization. But it is her sublime delicacy that distinguished her rendition in May 23's matinee. When she lifted her leg in an arabesque early in the Act II duet with Alex Hammoudi (Albrecht), the movement was barely perceptible, floating upward steadily, like a feather on the slightest pulse of wind. Battus resembled the beating of a hummingbird's wings. Other dancers—particularly Russians, it seems—milk the drama more, or emphasize athleticism, but Boylston gives a nuanced, quietly magical performance free of histrionics.

Hammoudi, a soloist, is maturing into his princely physique. He is on the way to becoming a much needed leading man of a large size. His long legs only accentuate the height of his grand jetes, and he can finesse the details in traveling steps with beats. It can't hurt to play against the company's finest character dancer, Roman Zhurbin, who succeeded in bringing some empathy to the beleaguered second fiddle, Hilarion. This young cast supplied rewards of a different kind than expected from the company's headliners—a variety of stars populating ABT's galaxy. 

A company is always in transition, but it feels as though ABT is going through more changes than in recent memory, with three principal women retiring (Kent, Herrera, and Reyes), a recuperating David Hallberg out for the season, the oft-cast Polina Semionova injured, and young dancers being groomed for promotions. So while there is Gomes, a fully matured artist in complete command of the repertory, we watch for greatness to emerge from surprising places. 

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. 

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.

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.