Dance Moves Forward — Support, Watch, Learn, and Toast

The dance world has been hit especially hard by Covid 19. Here are a few events—digitally accessible—happening soon, of interest. Help support dance and experience some amazing stuff. 

Kyle Abraham/A.I.M

Abraham/A.I.M have put together Homecoming Week (Oct 12—17), a varied slate of events to raise awareness and funds with an eye toward continuity:

Oct 12, noon (bid through Oct 16, 6pm): Silent Auction
Lots include a solo performance by Kyle Abraham; a private Zoom class with newly appointed ABT principal Calvin Royal III; a behind-the-scenes tour of Gramercy Tavern's kitchen by Executive Chef Michael Anthony; a pass for a MasterClass of your choice. 

Oct 14, 7pm: Homecoming Night
Line-up features a conversation between Kyle and Misty Copeland, principal with ABT (Misty performed Ash, a solo by Kyle created for City Center's 2019 Fall for Dance); plus appearances by artists Carrie Mae Weems and Glenn Ligon; Bebe Neuwirth; and A.I.M dancers. Streaming for free.

Oct 17, noon: Open level Masterclass with A.I.M dancer Tamisha Guy
Sliding scale donations welcome, including sponsoring another dancer's participation.

City Center — Fall for Dance

Dormeshia. Photo: Christopher
Duggan Photography

Two programs boast four world premiere commissions and an all-star cast performing on City Center's stage, hosted by Alicia Graf Mack and David Hallberg.

Oct 21, 7:30pm: Ballet Hispanico, 18 + 1; Jamar Roberts commission, Morani/Mungu (Black Warrior/Black God); Martha Graham Dance Company, Lamentation; Sara Mearns & David Hallberg, commission by Chris Wheeldon, The Two of Us

Oct 26, 7:30pm: Ashley Bouder, Tiler Peck & Brittany Pollack in excerpts from Balanchine's Who Cares?; Calvin Royal III, commission by Kyle Abraham; Lar Lubovitch Dance Company with guests Adrian Danchig-Waring & Joseph Gordon in Lubovitch's duet from Concerto Six Twenty-Two; Dormeshia, commission, Lady Swings the Blues

$15 per program for digital access through Nov 1

Michael Trusnovec. Photo: Mohamed Sadek

Joyce Theater — State of Darkness and Choreographers and Cocktails

A bold move by the Joyce to appeal to fanatics (but accessible to all)—a solo interpreted by seven fantastic performers at different times.

Oct 24—Nov 1: Molissa Fenley's 1988 solo, State of Darkness, to Stravinsky's Rite of Spring, interpreted by Michael Trusnovec, Cassandra Trenary, Annique Roberts, Shamel Pitts, Sara Mearns, Lloyd Knight, and Jared Brown — over several nights. 

Access to individual performances (viewable until Nov 7) is $12; $150 nets you a household pass to see all seven, plus a talk with Fenley and the dancers, led by Peter Boal — and a cocktail recipe. 

Fisher Center at Bard—The Four Quartets Experience

Pam Tanowitz's highly praised Four Quartets (2018 world premiere performance) screens Oct 31—Nov 1 at Upstreaming, Fisher Center's online platform (access starts at $10). 

In addition, a new film screens: There the Dance Is, documenting the dancers' experience of performing Four Quartets, plus an audiobook of actress Kathleen Chalfant reading T.S. Eliot's pseudonymic poem (streams free from Oct 31—Dec 31). 

Tanowitz speaks by video with critic Alastair Macaulay on Oct 30 at 7pm ($100 includes a virtual toast plus access to the archival performance stream and the audio recording)

Unexpected Combos

Misty Copeland in Ash. Photo: Stephanie Berger

Now 16 years old, Fall for Dance’s audience has lost some of the mania that was a given years ago, with viewers shrieking and whooping for, improbably, ballet dancers doing fouettés. But after the first act of 2019’s opening night, which included a solo for Misty Copeland choreographed by Kyle Abraham, the latter was returning to his house seat, and got a standing ovation from the intermissing crowd. After a shy wave and a smile, he was followed by his lighting designer—who also got an ovation, if less fervent. Such is the crowd at New York City Center’s FFD—taking ownership of the art form onstage and in the enthusiastic house.

In her solo, Ash, Copeland flitted and spun in short, cursive phrases punctuated by poses that articulated her muscular, curving limbs. The stage was bare except for a big lighting rig which held a spotlight trained on her. She wore Bartelme + Jung’s costume of a gold panné leotard under vertical widths of chiffon that poofed out as she moved, evoking a jellyfish pulsing through the water. Her aspect felt private, internal, and not directed at pleasing the audience, though that’s exactly what she did.

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—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. 

Marth Graham Dance Company Finds a Groove

Misty Copeland & Lloyd Knight, At Summer's Full. Photo: Brigid Pierce

Martha Graham Dance Company is celebrating its 89th year with a two-week run at the Joyce, with the theme Shape&Design. Misty Copeland guest starred on the opening night gala program in At Summer's Full (1940), a joyful dance that is part of Letter to the World, with new costumes (the originals were destroyed in Hurricane Sandy). While Copeland is not a native Graham dancer, her natural luminous stage presence and fully-articulated lines sang the choreography beautifully.

Michelle Dorrance's Lamentation Variation. Photo: Christopher Jones

The new Lamentations Variations show how a good idea can develop into a grand one. A film clip of Graham performing it leads off, a reminder of how fully integrated for her were form and message. Liz Gerring's displayed the drama she can squeeze out of simple stage formations. Michelle Dorrance's played on the snappy and jangly rhythms of the music, which included her own tapping. Kyle Abraham's tender duet articulated difference and harmony. Sonya Tayeh maximized the visual impact of the muscular dancers' limbs and feet, akin to So You Think You Can Dance, for which she has choreographed. This modular Lamentation series, which recruits new choreographic talent to the troupe, also demonstrates how small blocks can build a substantial edifice—much as Graham Company has done since its renascence.

Steps in the Street. Design by Frank Gehry. Photo: Brigid Pierce

Hewing to the season's theme of shape, Frank Gehry designed visual elements for Steps in the Street, Graham's classic war-time suite. The projected result is an animated illustration, a sort of volcano-shaped massing of lines that swiveled and blurred but remained secondary to the vibrant urgency of the womens' actions. Despite the mixed combined result, the attempt to enliven the repertory is admirable. Experimentation is once again a driving tenet.

Dance-theater artist Annie-B Parson was commissioned to create a premiere, The Snow Falls in the Winter. Her work is based on the Ionesco play The Lesson, and it fits surprisingly well within the Graham canon. Much of the movement is mime, or stage direction-type bursts (such phrases comprise part of the ample spoken text), but Parson puts the highly-trained dancers' skills to use in deep lunges, layouts, and extended legs held high (XiaoChuan Xie even waves a hand fan with her foot at one point). Technique aside, the company is comfortable with dramatic demands. 

In a direct line to Graham's work, Tadej Brdnik repeats some of the Minotaur's steps from Errand into the Maze, which had preceded Snow Falls on the program. The short-act tempo makes for lively viewing. Various props are clues to an admittedly absurdist affair—children's furniture, mics, a mysterious package, a dropped book, the fan. The Eagles' "Hotel California" is, intriguingly, played backwards (music is credited to David Lang), lending another element both familiar and disarming. 

Annie-B Parson's The Snow Falls in Winter. Photo: Brigid Pierce

Andonis Foniadakis' Echo, created last year, was performed again. The dance intrigues with the choreographer's opulent, circular movement style, enhanced with long flaring column skirts for all. PeiJu Chien-Pott was ravishing and forceful, buzzing like a live wire and swinging her long ponytail like a lasso, ready to rope anyone nearby. But the work runs too long, indulging a recurring and extended male duet (Lloyds Knight and Mayor) to the point of exhaustion. 

Artistic director Janet Eilber is succeeding in honoring Graham's legacy, enlisting artists to add to the repertory, resurrecting damaged sets and costumes, and engaging audiences with her pre-performance notes, which have become a familiar element at the company's performances. It's a positive takeaway as the Graham season closes on the eve of the first Paul Taylor's American Modern Dance season, which is promoting the incipient inclusion of works by choreographers who are not Paul Taylor—this year, Doris Humphrey and Shen Wei. To be continued.

Slapstick and Absorbing Formalism at ABT

Hee Seo and Marcelo Gomes in La Gaîté Parisienne.
Photo: Gene Schiavone

ABT's Classic Spectacular program is a palate cleansing bill of two Balanchine hits, plus La Gaîté Parisienne, a big old banana split of a ballet admirable for its insouciant emphasis on style over substance. This 1988 production of the 1938 one-act story ballet, by Leonide Massine to music by Offenbach, is staged by Lorca Massine with assistance from Susan Jones, and most memorable for the lavish costumes by Christian Lacroix. The womens' skirts are marvels of construction, structured to fit snugly at the hips before cascading into conical poofs underlaid by tulle, and in the case of the can can dancers, ruffled pastel underskirts. Details such as appliquéd gloves for the Glove Seller (Hee Seo) offer a visual abundance.

The men fare less well, costume-wise. Under a fuschia jacket, the Baron wears candy-striped tights, giving the apollonian Marcelo Gomes the appearance of abnormally big thighs. Other men wear beige plaid suits or baggy soldiers' uniforms; the Peruvian (Craig Salstein) an embellished, white satin getup, curlicued locks of hair decorating his cheeks.  

And what of the dance, you're wondering? Much of the movement is gesture, to define caricature in broad cartoon strokes. The Glove Seller is the mysterious, magnetic woman to whom all the men are drawn, and they tussle for her attention. Of course the Baron prevails, but now without some serious slapstick hilarity from the Peruvian. Salstein was born to play roles such as these, and is great fun to watch, though Misty Copeland as the Flower Girl (in place of Luciana Paris) is somewhat buried under all the frivolity. The can-can dancers have some fun with their kicks and splits, better to show off the ornate costumes.

Eric Tamm and Misty Copeland in Duo Concertant, © The George Balanchine Trust. Photo: Gene Schiavone

Artistic director Kevin McKenzie was wise to balance this puff piece with two of Balanchine's finest, Theme and Variations (1947), and the very different Duo Concertant, part of the 1972 Stravinsky Festival. T&V, a sibling work to the great Symphony in C, is an homage to imperial Russia. The leads on this night were both a bit of a surprise. Isabella Boylston danced in place of Gillian Murphy, fighting an injury; she was squired by Andrew Veyette, a guest from neighbor New York City Ballet. They complemented one another well physically, and both radiate great energy and charm, as well as being technical whizzes. The opening measures of Tchaikovsky's score are hummably dancy, and the pair exuded élan from the first notes.

Duo is quite familiar to regular NYCB fans, a staple of repertory that is a relatively brief work for duos of dancers and onstage musicians (piano and violin). It showcased Misty Copeland and Eric Tamm. Copeland makes clear shapes with her curvaceous legs, and is capacious and grand in her presentation. Tamm, handsome as a Ken doll, has excellent posture that might be slightly overly proper for this casual interplay of dance and music, but his line is geometric and assured. Interesting that Massine's ballet tells a story, albeit a slight one, while Balanchine's two dances largely formal ballets come across as substantial. Amidst a season of comfortable, sometimes threadbare ballet war horses, these repertory programs are welcome changes of pace.  

The tyranny of pointe shoes

Ready, aim, fire: Australian Ballet's Kevin Jackson and Lana Jones in McGregor's Dyad 1929. Photo: Lisa Tomasetti

There are many reasons to be infatuated with ballet, but one major element has become a double-edged sword—the use of pointe shoes. Yes, they elevate the dancer off the floor for a weightless look; they make for sleek lines and endless weaponry/spider metaphors; spinning on them looks effortless and just plain cool; and they're usually pink and shiny. But as much as I have affection for them, I think they've fostered a sort of modern day tyranny over ballet.


Choreographers seem obsessed with using them, even when there's a lot of running, or work not on pointe. (I'm always fearful that a dancer will slip; occasionally one does, and it's nearly always because of the ludicrous lack of traction from walking or running, flat-footed, on pointe shoes.) Obviously traditions within the classical repertory, such as Swan Lake (which ABT performs this week), demand their use, but it is surprising to me that so much new choreography utilizes pointe. It is the one choice that will automatically dictate many things within a ballet, more than the music or story.


For women dancers, it will implicate many of the standard steps done to emphasize the line on pointe: pirouettes, fouettés, developpés, arabesques, attitudes, and the thrilling fast chainés or piqués. Even the smaller steps are made extra refined, such as tendus, échappés, and standing on pointe. I won't deny that these lines are superbly elongated and pleasing. At the same time, it will vastly inhibit a dancer's ability to run, walk, corner, and change direction. This reluctance will be diminished as much as the dancer is able, but she will be reticent about these simple human moves.


It will induce the choreographer into more traditional role casting. For the guys, this means more partnering women in pirouettes, which leads to making very pretty poses in arabesque on relevé, with the man always behind, shadowing and supporting the woman. Which leads to dips and tilts where the toe shoe is the only point of contact between the woman and the earth, dragging the woman on the box of her toe shoe, then little lifts, then big lifts through splits, or overhead. It's a predictable menu of actions that limits artistic expression, even as it produces the desired traditional effects and predicates gender and psychological determinations.


Then there is the issue of technique. We in New York are spoiled brats, seeing the very best of the world's ballet dancers all the time, and whining about how there's too much to see. This means Osipova, Copeland, and Murphy at ABT, and Peck, Fairchild, and Mearns at NYCB as our usual fare. These women are basically superheroes, making this gritty, tough work look like swinging in a hammock. But not everyone is Tiler Peck.

The complicated process of physical selection, the mastery of dancing on pointe at a standard of world-class excellence, plus the ease of global travel and dissolution of nationalistic tendencies, has allowed the finest dancers to become our home-town heroes, but these standards are ridiculously high.

The world's leading companies make it their business, for better or worse, to prove themselves on New York stages; the Australian Ballet recently showed how excellent its dancers are. But there are many smaller companies, including local ones, that perform here regularly, and often the toe-shoed women are simply not up to expectations. But it's that omnipresent ideal—tyranny—of the pretty ballerina on pointe that provokes this backlash. It's a choice the choreographer makes, in a way reflecting the seductive gloss and promise of Ballet. 


One work presented by the Australian Ballet instigated this post: Wayne McGregor's Dyad 1929 (which I reviewed for Dance Magazine). The women changed from pointe shoes to soft slippers as the piece went on, except for one. This shift was not some major dramaturgical fulcrum: to me, it emphasized that traditional expectations need not be fulfilled in order for work to have artistic merit. And was a subtle statement on the future possibilities of dancing at times in soft slippers, which opens up so many options. Now that so many women are as athletic as the men, why not let them back down to earth once in awhile so they can show us?


Note: Here's a fascinating video on pointe shoes, featuring NYCB's Megan Fairchild. It's a reminder of the time and material resources consumed by the prevalence of the iconic shoes. They estimate that principal dancers use a pair a day, which must include breaking them in (these somewhat barbaric rituals include slamming the boxes with doors, and using files to increase friction), sewing ribbons and elastics, and getting them to conform to one's feet, or vice versa. Just the management of shoe inventory alone is a major task. 

Ratmansky's New Firebird for ABT

Herman Cornejo and Misty Copeland in Firebird. Photo: Gene Schiavone

Any new ballet to Stravinsky by ABT is a major deal, as is any premiere by resident choreographer Alexei Ratmansky. In the face of high expectations, Ratmansky's new Firebird contains many strengths. It reflects the choreographer's charming, musical, conversational ballet phrasing; his affinity for choreographing dorky, lovable characters; and his ability to describe the essence of a role quickly and fancifully. 


Last week, I saw Misty Copeland in the title role with Herman Cornejo as Ivan. But both dancers possess an internal complexity and the pyrotechnique to add some welcome sparks. But surprisingly, or maybe not, the choreography for these lead roles hewed to a romantic, heroic, conventional route. A bit of a shame as it is another major role for Copeland, whose star is on the rise.


By contrast, sections featuring Maria Riccetto (Maiden) and Roman Zhurbin (Kaschei) were full of quirks and characteristics. The 13 maidens in emerald green dresses and matching fluffy hats, move like klutzy, faux-naif ballerinas. They were led by Riccetto, who is one of ABT's best comedians. The role of Kaschei seems to have walked out of a Tim Burton movie, with his white face, debonair tails, and practiced evil, clearly delineated by Zhurbin, a stellar character-role dancer. Clearly Ratmansky had lots of fun bringing these personages to life. 


The story is full of turns of magic that make for a head-scratcher of a synopsis. In short—the Firebird helps Ivan free his gal pal, the Maiden, and her pals from Kaschei's spell by offing him: cracking an egg containing his soul and power. The maidens' lost lovers are liberated from the vault-like trees, which open to reveal techie-looking shiny innards. Happiness for all except the Firebird, who shall never truly find peace. The freed maidens emerged wearing uniform bad blond wigs and peasant-like muslin sheaths, which didn't seem like any sort of upgrade to me. 


Simon Pastukh designed the spooky set—dead, limbless tree husks on fire—enhanced magically with projections by Wendall Harrington that layered the signature image to create the illusion of receding arcades. Special effects were used effectively, such as how the flying Firebird was represented by a shooting, pulsing red light (lighting by Brad Fields), and how the trees emitted puffs of smoke, rather than your standard-issue blanket of fog. These all contribute to the visual entertainment of the ballet, which is likely to find a regular spot in the repertory rotation even if it isn't Ratmansky's finest. There are several additional performances of it next week.

ABT's Inspired Casting Draws from Home and Afar

Alina Cojocaru & Ivan Vasiliev. Photo: Gene Schiavone

ABT's casting for the May 24th performance of La Bayadère argues strongly for both home-grown talent, and for featuring guest principals. On behalf of the latter, Alina Cojocaru of London's Royal Ballet danced with Ivan Vasiliev, late of the Bolshoi and now with the Mikhailovsky Theatre in St. Petersburg. This pairing as Nikiya and Solor is the ballet equivalent of a fantasy baseball team, possible in theory and only on paper. And yet there they were onstage together, in the flesh. At least, in Vasiliev's case, in the gigantic bullfrog quadriceps; with Cojocaru, lean muscles on a tiny frame. 


Vasiliev is not the most subtle dancer. One explosive leap in, you realize exactly what he's famous for. Ballon for him includes a little turbo boost at the acme of his grand jetés, after hanging in space for a millisecond. He does what we all hope to: defeat gravity, at least temporarily. Yet even compact of stature, he is surprisingly expressive, for example, in a posé—a full extension of his line, from pointed tendu through an attenuated, arched back, through the electricity that seems to shoot from his fingertips. Cojocaru is full of radiant pathos, legible in her expressions and her perfectly placed extremities. Vasiliev hits your gut, and Cojocaru your heart.

Misty Copeland as GAMzatti. Photo: Gene Schiavone.

And then there's Misty Copeland as Gamzatti, who joined ABT's corps in 2001. Basically a home-grown star, she's quickly distinguished by her curvy, yet athletic, shape, her muscular legs' slightly hyperextended knees accentuating these fluid lines. She is familiar as a warm presence, so her strong portrayal of this rather devious woman is admirable and pleasantly surprising. You can't help but cheer for her success, which seems so inevitable, and yet in the growing model of casting international guest principals, also unattainable. And yet we should treasure the appearances of these remarkable stars as well, cheering them equally loudly if for different reasons. Copeland will be dancing the title role in Ratmansky's new Firebird in June. Catch her if you can.